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megalony · 10 months ago

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She's My Daughter

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine based on a few combined requests. I really had fun with this one and might do a few more parts if anyone would be up for it. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts

911 Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is ready to introduce his family to his team, but introductions go a little wrong when his wife has a seizure and his daughter crashes into the station... quite literally.

Enjoy.

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"Is that a thing… bringing families to the station?" Eddie looked around the table of familiar faces, gauging their reactions to see if this was a joke or if Hen was actually being serious.

Eddie had done a lot of different, odd jobs since coming out of the army and none of those jobs had felt so much like a family as this one. He had never been that close to the people he worked with. Becoming a fire fighter and working in the 118 made Eddie feel like he had a proper family, not like the loose, estranged one he had back in Texas. He felt like he had a father in Bobby, a brother in Evan and another sister in Hen.

He stabbed a bit of pasta on his fork and waved it around his plate before he looked over at Bobby for confirmation.

"Yeah, families are always welcome here. We throw parties, barbeques and cookouts and everyone is invited. Do you have people you'd like to bring round?" Bobby leaned back in his chair with a gracious smile.

He tried to let all of his team know that family always came first. They were all welcome to bring their families to look round the station, meet the team and get to know everyone. They were all a family here and therefore Bobby wanted it to feel homely and for everyone to get along and know each other.

A gentle smile formed on Eddie's lips as he set down his fork and interlaced his fingers together beneath his chin.

"I uh, I'd like my family to meet you all, if that's okay?"

He had been working here for over three months now, it felt the right time to introduce his family to his team. They protected him at work every day, they had a right to meet the people they helped send him home to after every shift.

"Bring them for dinner one day this week."

"So, who are we meeting? You said you have a few sisters, right?" Evan reached out and patted his hand against Eddie's shoulder with a grin that started to morph into a confused frown when Eddie shook his head.

"I was thinking more about my wife and kids."

"You have kids?" Hen smiled, but she couldn't keep the surprise from her voice or stop her brows from arching up. Eddie never said anything about a family. He talked to Evan and opened up to him more than the rest of them, but he hadn't mentioned a family. They only knew he was married because of the wedding ring on his finger and Eddie didn't even talk about his wife to them so nobody asked.

"I have two girls and a boy." Eddie's face lit up into a grin at the thought of the four people he had waiting at home for him.

"How old?"

Chimney thought Eddie seemed the fatherly type. Whenever they were out on a call and kids were around, Eddie could always take charge. He talked to them in that soft voice and bent down to their level and seemed to understand whatever they were talking about or going through. But Chimney wouldn't have guessed he had so many kids.

"Bella's fourteen, Chris is nine and Rosie is only four months, we had her just after we moved to LA."

It had been a hectic time to decide to move away from Texas, but it had been the right thing to do. Eddie had a turbulent relationship with his parents, his dad had never really been involved in his life and as much as he loved his mother, she was overbearing.

It was hard when Eddie first came out of the army and had his parents around almost every day, acting as if he couldn't look after his two kids. Eddie brought up his sisters when he was a teen, he had been the man of the house while his dad worked away. He didn't want his parents on his doorstep everyday and everyone hovering around his kids or telling him his job wasn't right for him.

As for (Y/n), her relationship with her own mother was strained and she had no contact with her dad, so moving was a fresh start for everyone.

Eddie did his training for the fire department back in Texas, found the 118 and got his application all sorted and agreed before they moved. Three days into living in their new house in LA, Rosie decided she wanted to be born three weeks early so Eddie couldn't start with the department for a few extra weeks.

Now they were all settled into their home, the kids were settled at school and everything seemed to be slotting into place.

It was time Eddie introduced them to his work family.

***

Sinking back on his heels, Eddie swiped his bare arm against his temple and did a quick sweep around the truck. He tapped his fingers against his thighs and shuffled to lean over the side of the truck. He had fixed the ladder back into place and given the fire truck a quick clean while Hen worked on restocking the equipment in both the truck and the ambulance.

"Heads up, someone's got a clipboard handy."

Eddie pointed towards the stairs and gave Hen a certain, knowing look because he knew what was going to happen. She was going to argue with Evan because he was on one of his checklist rants. He was a menace with a clipboard and Hen lost her patience with him nine times out of ten.

He grinned at the way Hen sighed and planted her hands on her hips and silently shook his head with a raised brow.

Turning around, Eddie pushed up to his feet and slowly headed to the end of the truck towards the mini ladder to get back down.

"Excuse me… stop… stop!"

Eddie tilted his head up and glanced around, trying to locate Bobby when he heard his rather panicked voice. His eyes narrowed and his hands planted down on his hips as he stayed on top of the truck as his eyes landed on his captain.

Bobby was stood to the front of the station near the open shutters, holding both his hands out in front of him towards a car.

The car was juttering back and forth and whoever was driving had their foot on the gas pedal, reving the engine as if wanting to make an entrance and gain everybody's attention. But they weren't slowing down. The car jolted backwards, then surged forwards and sped through the shutters. No one was supposed to drive into the station. There was a car park round the back for staff when they arrived and a small car park at the front for any visitors or emergencies.

What on Earth was the driver doing?

Panic shot through Eddie's chest and his complexion paled when he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at the number plate.

Oh God.

That was (Y/n)'s car.

"Fuck!" Eddie turned on his heels and clambered to the end of the truck, grabbing the handles of the ladder so he could slide down and jump down to his feet. His boots thudded against the floor and his knees jerked from the impact but he paid it no mind. "That's my wife's car!"

His feet moved faster than his mind could comprehend and he sped past Hen who followed hot on his heels. He weaved past the ambulance and moved towards Bobby who was stood in the middle of the station floor, his arms still out in front of him to try and stop the car from crashing into any equipment or the ambulance.

"Christ- (Y/n) stop the car!" What the Hell was she doing? Eddie tangled one hand in his hair as he held his breath. His wife wasn't a bad driver. She was quite a good driver considering she hadn't been driving for very long. She knew what she was doing and she knew not to drive into the middle of the station like this. She must be having some kind of emergency to be doing this.

Eddie's hand fell from his hair and he surged forward when the car juttered again and almost hit Bobby. And when Evan ran into the situation, he planted his hands down on the bonnet and hit it a few times to try and get her attention and make her stop.

A sudden burst of anger radiated through Eddie when he leaned down to look through the window. That wasn't his wife.

He got close enough to grab the handle and wrenched the door open, letting it swing far and wide before he leaned down and pushed into the car. His knees hit the chair and his shoulders pinned up against the roof as he leaned in the middle and yanked on the hand break to stop the car rolling backwards or surging forwards and running over his colleagues.

As quick as anything, Eddie unclipped the seatbelt before he wrapped his hand tightly around her arm and pulled back, yanking her out of the car with him.

"Isabella Diaz! What the Hell are you doing?!"

Eddie took a few steps back and pulled his eldest child along with him. His chest heaved and his lungs burned as he tried to take proper breaths but it felt like he was being suffocated.

His hands moved out to cup Bella's face and he tilted her head up so they were level and he could look her over. His eyes swept up and down her frame, looking for injuries or any signs of a problem or an issue. But all Eddie could see was her face turning a dark shade of red, her eyes puffing up and tears drenching down her face.

"That's uh… that's your wife?" Evan clamped his hands down on his hips but he frowned when Bobby hit him in the shoulder as a silent bid to tell him to be quiet. But Eddie was the one who said it was his wife's car coming into the station.

If that was his wife, then there were a few problems around here.

"Dad!" Bella moved her hands up to cup Eddie's wrists and took a second to try and catch her breath.

She had done it. She had gotten the car down to the station- the right station, where her dad would be. She had gotten them here in one piece and now she could get them to help her mum.

Fury bubbled up in Eddie's eyes when he looked over at Evan. He was starting to think of Evan as one of his closest friends. But he didn't think Evan would actually believe that this was his wife. As if he thought Eddie was some kind of weirdo who would go round marrying someone over half his age? What did he take him for?

"She's my daughter." He snapped back, somewhat rudely before his attention turned back to Bella and he started to smooth his thumbs beneath her eyes. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, silently telling her to talk to him and explain.

"Mum- mum's had a seizure," Bella pulled on Eddie's hand and pointed into the car.

She watched the way his shoulders slumped and his face fell completely and his jaw slacked but he couldn't fathom what to say.

His hands left her face and he turned around and propelled himself around the car. His hand scraped against the bonnet to help guide him round and stop him from skidding as he nudged past Evan to get to the passenger side. He opened the door and crouched down beside the chair to look over his wife.

"Can someone get the kids out please?" Eddie's lips pursed when he glanced in the back and felt his heart dropping down to his stomach.

Chris and Rosie were in the back.

Bella had driven all the way here with the kids in the back and (Y/n) mostly unconscious in the front seat. She could have gotten them all killed. She didn't have a licence and she didn't know how to drive. Bella shouldn't have been on the road and if her parking in the station was anything to go by, she would have been a menace on the roads.

Hen mumbled a quiet 'Hi cutie' as she unclipped Rosie from her carrier and gently picked her up, shushing her when she began to scream her little head off. And Evan moved round behind Eddie and grinned down at Chris who had a teddy pinned to his chest and was rocking back and forth in a mixture of stimming and panic. He picked him up when Chris didn't object and moved to stand over beside Hen while Bobby moved to kneel behind Eddie.

"Baby… baby, you with me?" Pushing up, Eddie moved his hands to cup (Y/n)'s face and gently tilt her head from where it was slumped against the door frame and the seatbelt.

He pushed his thumbs against her cheekbones to try and stimulate her before he moved his hand round and pressed his fingers against her neck to check her pulse.

A light tremble was rattling through (Y/n)'s body that was pushing back into the seat and Eddie could see a trail of blood trickling down her lower lip towards her chin. She had bitten her lip or her tongue during the seizure enough to make it bleed.

Her eyes were closed and when Eddie pulled up her eyelid to try and check her pupils, he growled. Her eyes were rolled to the top of her head.

"I take it this is your wife? Is she epileptic?" Bobby rested one arm on the roof of the car and leaned in to try and take a look at (Y/n).

They were supposed to meet Eddie's family in three days, he was going to bring them down to the station for dinner so they could all be introduced and get to know each other. This was not the way Eddie wanted them all to meet and this wasn't the kind of situation he wanted his kids to be involved in. His daughter had been panicked enough to try and drive the car down here to get help.

"She was diagnosed four years ago, but she hasn't had a seizure in months. She has absent ones, not like this." The last seizure Eddie could remember (Y/n) having was when she was pregnant with Rosie and that had been a small one while they were at home in the evening. She hadn't suffered with them for a long while.

When she first got diagnosed, (Y/n) was having two or three absent seizures a week and the odd tonic seizure where she tensed up and jerked around. She had been put onto meds to stop them and her meds had been reduced last year because she was doing so well not having any.

"Alright baby, let's get you out." With one arm around her back, Eddie unclipped her belt and slipped his other hand beneath her knees.

He pulled back and shuffled (Y/n) into his arms, letting her head loll on his shoulder with Bobby's hands on her neck to try and keep her steady and stop any damage from happening. Eddie stood up and took a few quick steps away from the car and over near the ambulance before he went down on his knees and eased (Y/n) down to the floor.

He laid her down and knelt down behind her, resting her head and shoulders over his lap before he started to run his hands up and down her arms to try and stimulate her and bring her back around.

"I'll take the kids up to the kitchen, come on." Evan gently eased Rosie from Hen and into his own arms and moved his free hand against Chris's back. Gently urging him to walk with him. He would get Chris a drink in the kitchen and settle him in front of the tv to try and calm him down and let him know that everything was alright now.

"Is mum okay?"

Before she could stop herself, Bella curled her hand around Hen's upper arm and stood close to her side with her left arm wrapped tightly around her middle to try and calm herself down and make herself breathe better. She leaned her head on Hen's shoulder, unable to stop the tears from falling again.

She had done well not to cry or burst into sobs while she was driving down here. Bella had told herself to be stern and calm so she didn't crash and hurt her whole family. It had worked. But now she was here, safely where she wanted to be, she could feel herself starting to shake and her chest was tightening up.

"Amor what happened?" Eddie lifted his head to look over at his daughter who took a few daring steps forward with Hen who was comfortingly holding her wrist and smiling at her. "Why did you drive here? You could have called 911." He couldn't see why Bella would take the risk of driving down here instead of calling for an ambulance.

She could have asked them to inform Eddie of the situation or call him once she'd called for help. It seemed drastic for her to pack everyone into the car and drive down here when she didn't know how to drive and Bella had been adamant she never wanted to learn to drive. She thought it was too scary.

"We were driving and mum felt sick, s-she pulled over but when she got out… she collapsed on the pavement. She had a seizure and I panicked… I p- I got her in the car, we were only f-five minutes away so… so I drove."

Tears drenched Bella's face as she tucked herself more into Hen's side and coiled both her arms around her chest, swaying back and forth.

She didn't know what to do.

One moment, (Y/n) pulled over and got out the car saying she was going to be sick, but the next thing Bella knew, her mum was on the floor having a seizure. And not the kind of seizure she usually had. She was flailing about, jerking, hardly breathing and biting her lip so hard she was froffing blood. When it stopped, (Y/n) wasn't talking and she was barely moving.

Bella didn't want to call an ambulance and leave the car on the side of the road and have to get Chris and Rosie rammed into the back of a crowded ambulance. She knew her dad was only five minutes down the road and it seemed like an easy task to drive straight down the road and turn a corner and reach the station.

And it was an emergency. If someone pulled her over, she would still get help either way.

So she managed to hoist her mum up and help her flop into the car and she did her best to drive down here while her mum had another seizure on the way.

All she wanted was Eddie.

"Cap…" Hen looked between Bobby and Bella until he got the silent message and nodded. They needed to switch places so Hen could help Eddie get (Y/n) stabalised and sorted out and someone needed to stay with Bella and calm her down.

Hen gently eased herself from Bella's side when Bobby walked over and curled his arm around her shoulder to try and give her some comfort. But just as Hen reached into the ambulance and grabbed her medic bag, she froze when Bella cried out and a few Spanish profanities slipped past Eddie's lips.

Eddie's hands moved to hold (Y/n)'s shoulders and he shuffled back before he tried to turn her over. He eased her onto her left side and knelt behind her with one hand cupping the back of her neck and his other hand lightly rubbing up and down her arm. She was going into another seizure. He kept her head tilted forward, Eddie didn't want to risk (Y/n) biting down again and choking on her tongue or on the blood welling up in her mouth.

"Alright, I've got you baby, it's okay." Eddie pressed his knees into her back to keep her kept on her side while Hen knelt down in front of her with her medic bag at her side.

While Hem rummaged around for some meds in the bag, Eddie swiped the stethoscope which he tucked into his ears and carefully pressed down between (Y/n)'s shoulders to listen to her breathing. He then curled his chest over her arm and pressed it beneath her shirt to listen to her heartbeat.

"Breathing's good, heart sounds fine."

"Pushing diazepam,"

Eddie gripped (Y/n)'s upper arm and tried to hold her trembling limb steady so Hen could inject the diazepam into her shoulder. It was the safest palce to administer meds when the rest of her body was violently jerking back and forth. And (Y/n) was already bleeding from the mouth, they couldn't administer any emergency tablets under her tongue right now. This was the next best option to try and stop the seizure and spasms.

"Dad…" Bella tried to run forward but Bobby reacted faster. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest, almost lifting her from her feet to stop her from reaching her parents. It wasn't safe for her to try and get involved. (Y/n) was being looked after.

Eddie lifted his head and tightened his hands over (Y/n)'s arm and neck when his eyes locked with his daughter who was almost the double of his wife.

"Carino stay with Bobby. It's okay." Eddie nodded his head until Bella stopped writhing in Bobby's hold and settled down. He didn't want her getting distressed either or trying to bustle over here. She needed to stay there, safe and out the way.

"It's working, she's calming down." Hen found a saline bag and the necessary needles in the medic bag and placed them by her thigh, ready to give to (Y/n) when the spasms fully wore off. The last thing she needed was to try and push an IV into (Y/n)'s hand and have her go back into another seizure and rupture a vein.

"She's gonna be sick."

Eddie reached his arm out and pressed his hand into Hen's shoulder, trying to nudge her to the right to get her out the way.

He moved his hands back to (Y/n) and tilted her chin down, keeping his fingers curled around her neck to keep her head down so she didn't choke. While he brushed her hair behind her ear and reached down to cup her wrist and pull her hand back.

He could see the way her stomach was tensing and sucking inwards and her chest was pushing forward instead of convulsing.

"Let it out, baby. Good girl," He leaned over to kiss her shoulder and slipped his hand from her wrist to grip her hand. Both he and Hen watched her chest closely and made sure she was still breathing and not choking.

A wave of relief tremored through Eddie when he felt (Y/n)'s fingers twitch against his hand and her arm suddenly jerked out. She coiled her arm to her chest, pulling Eddie's arm along with her which made his chest press down into her shoulder so he could curve around her.

Her knees tensed and kicked back and forth in an attempt to try and bring her knees up to her stomach. A burning gasp mixed with a cry vibrated past (Y/n)'s lips and her temple bashed into the floor when she tried to turn her head and press her face down into the floor.

With a deep breath, Eddie inched himself backwards and gently scuffed (Y/n) along with him to get her away from the puddle of sick. He let go of her hand and moved his arm around her waist and with his other hand against the back of her head, Eddie gently lifted her up. He reeled her up and let her flop back into his chest with a thump. Her head lolled into the crook of his neck and her temple pressed into his chin with a groan.

While she started to take deep breaths and murmur incoherent noises against Eddie's neck, Hen reached out and pulled her hand onto her thigh. She quickly slipped the needle into her vein and capped the IV in, keeping the tube wide open to let as much saline flow through her veins as possible. The seizures would have taken a toll on (Y/n) and they needed to boost her levels back up and get her back to normal again.

"It's alright baby… are you back with me now, hm?" Eddie kissed her temple and kept one hand pressing down on her stomach while the other hand feathered up and down her arm.

(Y/n) turned her head from left to right, wincing and whining when Hen pulled her eyelid up and flashed a light across her pupils. At least her eyes were now back down and looking ahead instead of rolled up to the back of her skull.

"Eddie,"

A spasm rolled through (Y/n) and sent her right side jerking out with her foot scraping the floor, her leg jostling from side to side and her right arm bashed down into her chest making her cry out. It was like the last waves of electricity were rolling through her on their way out of her system.

She could feel sparks flying down to her toes and her fingertips had gone stiff like they were turning to stone.

The feeling of Eddie's lips pressing into the side of her head was comforting and his hands were squeezing her skin with his arms wrapped around her like a security blanket. But (Y/n) couldn't work out why Eddie was holding her. Why was he here? When did he get here? What were they doing?

"Yeah, it's me baby."

"Home?"

"Home? No, you're not going home mi amor." Eddie sighed into her hair and smothered the top of her head with his lips as he tightened his arms around her waist.

There was no way he was taking her back home. He had to take her down to the hospital along with the kids to get her checked out before he even thought about taking her home.

"Home… you- you're home," (Y/n) tried to keep her eyes open but everything was so bright she wished the world would shut down and turn pitch black. Her face pressed as deeply into Eddie's neck as she could until she was almost smothering herself and she could feel very bob of his Adam's apple and each harsh breath he took.

"You're not at home, baby… you're at the station. You were driving, you and the kids, in the car…?" Eddie wasn't used to (Y/n) being this confused after a seizure. But then again, she'd had about three of them in the last hour from what Bella had told them. She was bound to be confused and agitated and scared.

He could feel (Y/n) shaking her head into his neck, she didn't believe or understand what he was telling her and he knew it was pointless to try and talk her through it now.

(Y/n) could barely see a thing when she managed to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. She tightened her right hand around Eddie's palm but when she moved her left hand to try and reach up to hold onto him, something caught her eye. Her blurred vision tried to focus on her hand and her lips curled into a frown when she noticed a pastel white and leaf green plastic cap in the back of her hand, connected to a thin tube.

Whatever that was, (Y/n) didn't want it.

Her hand let go of Eddie's palm and before he could ask what she was doing, (Y/n) huffed and scratched off the cap in her hand.

"Oow," Tears stung in the corners of her eyes and she whimpered when her left hand started to spasm and a trickle of blood started oozing down and slithering between her fingers.

"Baby!" Eddie scolded through clenched teeth. "No- no, stop. Baby let me fix it, okay?"

Eddie perched his chin on (Y/n)'s right shoulder and wrapped his right arm around her chest, pinning her arm between them so she couldn't fight him or try and stop him from patching up her hand. He held her left wrist in both hands and pushed his chin down into her shoulder both to comfort her and make her stop wriggling.

He held her hand out towards Hen who was quick to run a swab over her hand to clean the blood before she carefully pushed the needle back into her hand and connected the tube back up.

"Bandage it please." Eddie whispered quietly, relieved when Hen smiled and grabbed a small roll of bandage.

Eddie had had this fight hundreds of times when (Y/n) was admitted to the hospital. Especially after she gave birth. She never wanted the canula in and always tried to take it out until Eddie bandaged her hand up so she couldn't see or touch it.

"Mum?" Bella pushed forward when Bobby let her out of his hold and allowed her to rush over and kneel down beside Hen.

She reached her hands out and wrapped her arms around both her mum and her dad, wedging (Y/n) between them in a hug. She tucked her face into (Y/n)'s neck, unable to stop crying when she felt her mum kiss her temple and try to hold her hand.

"Bella, wait here for a minute please while I move your mum." Eddie curled his fingers in the back of her hair and kissed her temple before he motioned for her to shuffle back a bit. He slipped his arms back around (Y/n)'s back and beneath her knees to pick her back up, relieved that she could seemingly move again. She hooked an arm around his neck and closed her eyes, tucking her face into his chest as he aimed for the ambulance.

Eddie knew the moment (Y/n) woke up properly and became aware of where she was and what was happening, she would kick off. She didn't like hospitals and she wouldn't want to be in an ambulance, but he had to get her to hospital. And he wanted to at least lay her on the gurney so she could start to come back round properly.

"I'll be two minutes, baby, I'm just gonna get the kids. This is Hen, she'll wait with you."

Once (Y/n) was laid on the gurney, Eddie kissed her temple and brushed his thumb over her cheek. He had a feeling she would pass out and have a nap, she didn't look like she could stay awake for much longer and he wouldn't blame her. It would be easier to transport her if she went to sleep for a while.

He patted Hen's shoulder, whispering a quiet 'thank you' in her ear before he climbed down and moved over towards Bella who was stood off to the side. both arms cocooned around her chest that was trembling and tears were flushed down her face.

The moment he was within reach, Bella tangled her arms around his torso and buried herself into his chest. He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and each quiet sniffle she let out as she trembled so much she made Eddie start to shake back and forth. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tangled his other hand in her hair, cupping the back of her head while he leaned down to kiss her temple.

"Shh, it's alright carino."

"I- I'm sorry… I'm sorry daddy-"

"It's okay." Pulling back, Eddie moved his hands to cup her face so he could tilt her head up while his thumbs swiped away the tears tracing down her face. "I'm not mad, I swear."

"But… but the car…"

"I don't want you driving the car again, I mean it. But I'm not mad, you panicked and you came straight here, you got help. But next time, you don't try and drive the car with the kids in the back. You call an ambulance and then call me and I'll always come get you. Okay?"

There was no way that Eddie could be mad at her. She had been in a stressful situation and in her panic, she made a decision. It might not have been the right decision in the long run, but she had gone along with it and got everyone here in one piece. She brought (Y/n) somewhere safe and got her help and everyone was okay which was the main thing.

But if something like this ever happened again, Eddie needed Bella to call for help rather than take it into her own hands to find help herself.

She could have gotten herself into serious trouble if someone reported her or witnessed her or if she crashed. She could have made everything worse if she crashed the car with her unconscious mum and younger siblings in the car with her.

Eddie was going to be having nightmares about this for weeks, he could feel it.

"Okay," Bella nodded frantically before she pushed forward and tucked herself back into Eddie's chest, binding them both together like she was never going to let him go. Her arms stayed tightly bound to him until he held her shoulders and gently nudged her back so he could turn towards Evan who was walking their way with Rosie in his arms and Chris by his side.

"Everyone okay now?"

Eddie sighed through a smile and nodded his head, leaning forward to kiss Rosie's forehead before he reached over for Chris and picked him up. He kissed Chris's cheek and sat him on his hip although he could still feel Bella stood close to his side with her hands wrapped around his arm.

"Mummy okay?"

"She's fine, buddy. We're gonna take her down to the hospital though to get checked over, okay?" Eddie leaned back and took a glance over his shoulder towards the ambulance. He could guess that since (Y/n) wasn't arguing or shouting or crying out for him that she had indeed fallen asleep.

He could get Bella to ride in the ambulance with (Y/n) and the team while he took Chris and Rosie in (Y/n)'s car and followed behind them.

"Bell went through a red light," Chris leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder and grinned when Bella reached her hand out and lightly tapped his arm before she pressed her finger to her lips.

Her head tilted down and her eyes stayed on the floor when she felt her dad's piercing gaze fall on her and she could feel his elbow jutting into her side when he clamped his free hand down on his hip.

"Did she now?"

Lifting her gaze, Bella tried to smile but when she looked across at Evan, he was grinning at her and silently gave her a thumbs up with his hand hidden at his side so Eddie wouldn't see. "You said you're not mad at me," She whispered sheepishly, to which Eddie hummed with pursed lips.

He couldn't tell her off when he'd already explained he wasn't ngry and he knew she had acted out of panic. He just had to pray that within the next week, he wouldn't get any phone calls or letters to the house saying he had a traffic ticket for going through a red light or being caught speeding.

The only upside was that if that happened, Eddie could have a word with Bobby. He knew his captain would gladly talk to Athena and anyone else at the station to explain what had happened. They couldn't exactly charge Bella with anything when it was an emergency situation and she had done the right thing.

But Eddie's brows narrowed his chest tightened when he felt Chris lean up and whisper in his ear, "Bell hit a lamp post too."

"Isabella!"

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #bobby nash

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writers-potion · 8 months ago

Text

International Slang, Slang, Slang!

I'm sharing this list of slang in different languages (English, British English, French, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Malaysian, Russian, Hindi) to use for dialogue:

English Slang

LOL = laugh out loud

OMG = oh my god

Noob = newbie

LMAO = laught my ass off

SFW = Safe work work

HMB = hit me back

XOXO = hugs and kisses

Txt = text

msg = message

cuz = because

kinda = kind of

outta = out of

'bout = about

C'mon = come on

'em = them

lil = little

lotsa = lots of

nope/nah = no

wanna = want to

dunno = don't know

lemme = let me

TBH = to be honest

gotcha = have got you

jack around = waste time

jillion = an immense number

nuke = destroy, delete

bushed = extremely tired

fab = fabulous

chicken = coward

grabbers = hands

grub = food

vanilla = plain

peanuts = very little money

British English Slang

skive = lazy or avoid doing something

knackered = tired

nicked = stolen

bugger = jerk

zed = equivalent to zzzzzz

nosh = food

dog's bollocks = awesome

bog roll = toliet paper

nutter = crazy person

punter = customer/prostitute's client

fiver = 5 euros

toff = upper class person

taking the piss = screwing around

pissed = drunk

wonky = not right

gutted = devastated

Tosser = idiot

Cock-up = screw up

Bloody = damn

Wanker = idiot

Fancy = like

Lost the plot = gone crazy

Kip = sleep or nap

Bee's knees = awesome

Dodgy = suspicious

Wicked = cool!

Know your onions = knowledgeable

Chuffed = proud

Bespoke = custom made

Give you a bell = call you

Hoover = vacuum

Tad = little bit

French Slang

Spanish Slang

Tu (me) fair chier) = (literally: you make me

shit) You are pissing me off

Ca me saoule = I'm sick of this

J'en ai ras le cul = I'm sick of this

Fringues = clothes

Grailler = to buy/steal/take/eat

Crever = to die

Crevant = exhausting

Gerber = to throw up

Defonce = stoned

Glander = to procrastinate/to do nothing/to

lay around

Va craver = go die

J'ai la dalle = I'm hungry

Avoir la flemme = not wanting to do

something

Japanese Slang

Tio = dude or guy

Guay = cool/great

Currar = to work

Fome = boring

Value = okay or sure

Colega = buddy or friend

Pasta = moneu

Majo = nice or friendly

Flipar = to be shocked

Bocachancla = gossip

Raro - weird

Papear = to eat

Resaca = hangover

Plomazo = boring

Loco = crazy

Chafa = Lame

Baka (ばか) = Stupid or idiot.

Bucchake (ぶっちゃけ) = To be honest or frank.

Chiruru (チルる) = To chill or relax.

Chō (超) = Very.

Dame (だめ) = No good or not allowed.

Dasai (ダサい) = Uncool or out of style.

Disuru (ディスる) = To disrespect or talk down about someone.

Egui (えぐい) = Awesome or incredible.

Gachi (ガチ) = Serious or real.

Ganba (がんば) = A short version of “ganbatte,” meaning “do your best” or “good luck.”

Guguru (ググる) = To Google something.

Gyaru (ギャル) = A fashion-conscious young lady with tanned skin and long nails.

Honto (ほんと ) = Really or for real.

Ii kanji (いい感じ) = To have a good vibe or feeling about something.

JK = High school girl.

Kimoi (キモい) = Creepy or gross.

Kira kira (キラキラ) = Sparkling, cute, or beautiful.

Kireru (キレる) = To snap or lose your temper.

Maji (マジ) = Seriously or really.

Moteru (モテる) = To be popular or attractive.

Mukatsuku (むかつく) = To be irritated.

Nampa (ナンパ) = To chat or pick someone up.

Sugoi (すごい) = Amazing or incredible.

Uzai (うざい) = Another word for annoying.

Wakannai (わかんない) = I don’t know.

Yabai (ヤバい) = Anything from “awesome” to “oh no.”

Russian Slang

Долбоеб (dolboyob_) = Fool, Idiot

Иди на хуй (idi na hui) = F*ck yourself

Сволочь (svo lach’) = Trash, Scum, Jerk

Жопа (zho pa) = Brat (typically used towards children)

Гавно (gav no) = Sh!t (used more when speaking to yourself rather than to insult someone)

лох (loh) = Stupid, Idiot, Sucker

Гандон (gan don) = Condom (Whilst calling someone a condom in English is just not a thing, it’s quite common in Russia. Used to refer to someone weak or just plain irritating)

Чушь собачья (chush’ sobach’ya) = Bullsh!tter

Malaysian Slang

Трахни тебя (trakhni tebya) = F*ck You

Ти дегхенераат (ti degheneraat) = You’re a degenerate

Отыебис от меныа! (otyebis ot menya!) = Move your ass / Get the f*ck away

чертовски дно (chertovski dno) = F*cking bottom (would be used when referring to hitting rock bottom.)

Bo jio = use when referring to friend who didn't invite them to a gathering (e.g. 'why you bo jio?)

Ýum cha = hang out over drinks or food at local coffee shops

belanja = I got you covered

Potong Stim = killjoy

Boss = waiters refer to their cusomters as boss, and customers call out for waiters using the same term!

Tapau/Bungkus = take-away

Ang Moh/Mat Salleh = "Western foreigners"

Kantoi = being cuaght red handed

Paiseh = shy or embarrased

Walao Eh! = brother

Macha = good friends (equivalent to "fam" in English)

Alamak! = shock, surprise, or frustration (punctuate with 'face palm' for dramatic effect)

Lah = This one really has no meaning, used to add "emphasis" and "flavor" to sentences. It is rather addictive...

Kawan baik = best friend

Jom = let's (inviting someone to do something together)

Best gila = crazy good, crazy fine (like "amazing!" in English)

Kantoi = busted

Fuyoh = WOW or OMG

Cincai = whatever

Italian Slang

Ma Dai = come on, imagine, stop it (express surprise, amazement)

Chi Se Ne Frega? = Who cares?

Scialla = stay calm

In Bocca Al Lupo = Good luck

Come Il Cacio Sui Maccheroni = like sheep's milk for the macaroni

Come Te La Passi = How is it going?

Trescare – Have a flirt

Camomillarsi – Calm down

Sbalconato – Be out of your mind

Incicognarsi – Get pregnant

Citofonarsi – Call someone by surname

Tirare tardi – To be late

Inciucio – Intrigue, a cheat, a mess

Un carnaio – Many people together in the same place

Abbioccarsi – falling asleep unexpectedly

Bordello – Problematic, confusing, and chaotic situation

Fottìo – Something that has happened or occurs in large quantities

Svalvolare – Loss of control

Rosicare – To be envious of something

Scazzato – A state of mind of malaise

Che pizza – a boring or bad thing

Sbroccare o sclerare – Getting angry and making a scene

Raga – Guys

Tranqui – abbreviation of the word “calm,” it means to stay calm

Che Figata – Cool

Meno male! – Luckily or thank goodness

Che schifo – How disgusting

Vivere alla giornata – Live in the moment

Pisolino – An Italian slang word that means “afternoon nap”

Hindi Slang

Yaar = Friend, used at the end of sentences for casual social interactions (including shopkeepers/autorickshaw drivers)

Achcha = good/okay/really?

Thik Hain = okay (+ head nod)

Arre = hey (with a higher tone = surprise, lower tone = exasperation)

Bas = that's it

Chakkar = dizziness

Funda = fundamentals

Ghanta = Yeah right

Jugaad = hack

Bakwaas = nonsense

Chalega = That will do

239 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 5 months ago

Text

Señorita Nothingburger

🎶When you see her, say a prayer /And kiss your heart arse goodbye 🎶

Lauren 2.0. Wow: after The Paid Companion, The Wannabe. Unlike the first round of revelations, this time the output has been totally disappointing. Very few things and zero context, which I have to say I was totally expecting, because it didn't exactly fit the agenda being pushed by Marple (amen!). Lightning never strikes the same place twice, right? And then, we had The Follow - a very interesting foolish, yet telling move: but on this, a bit further down the road, mind you.

So, let's ask ourselves along with La Ciccone: '¿Quién es esa niña?' For once, his IG follow has been very explicit:

Leading whoever to this account...

Elix Wellness is offering a very specific range of treatments, of which the one for hangovers really got me interested:

And yeah, even if I have apparently been scooped out by Marple on this one (my bad for sitting on it for a day), shamelessly using my patented methods (that is a lame joke), Lauren 2.0's LinkedIn account is, for once, very clear:

Her contract as a Travel RN was over by August 2023, as pointed out across the street:

And then she decided to go independent and open her own company. So, by far not a hooker - decent education, even, at NYU.

Lo and behold, who had Ibuprofen in his hotel room, in May 2023, when they were spotted on that NY Soho terrace, having lunch (didn't we laugh? you bet we did, it was one of my first posts in this fandom!)? S, of course. Hangovers could use both ibuprofen and a good IV cleansing treatment ( see above - such a common offering in that particular town, soon to be out of fashion - but hey: if she believes it can bring money, not my problem).

But... dating her? Not a chance in hell. You see, just a cursory survey of her IG account between the moment her contract as a Travel Registered Nurse was over and the moment her company started to be active, reveals a very busy Mediterranean summer, hitting all the possible cliches:

Before ending that contract, even, some days in Paris with her real interest, (again) checking all the tourist/romantic tropes you can imagine, from dining at the Au pied de cochon restaurant to having a quick macaron bite in the Luxembourg Gardens...

... then off to Paros, a posh island Greek destination, very much in vogue with the creative crowd, followed by (we are talking mandatory island hopping, here) Mykonos (unapologetically posh and very expensive, LGBTQ+ friendly destination - also beloved by the glam and glitz crowd)

Oh, hello Soho Roc House, part of the Soho Houses network - rings a bell? What a small world, really.

... a couple of days in Rome, followed by some quality family time (Mom and Pop, at a minimum) in Puglia, then Croatia (again, the glam crowd of Hvar island), back to Paris for a girls' trip (Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower and a couple other spots in the Marais and around the Rue de Rivoli - cliche forever):

... then back in Rome for cacio e pepe pasta, Piazza Navona and the Pantheon oculus (artsy girl, told you), followed by Positano and Capri (with Mom and Dad, again). Nothing to write home about, but still trying to sell herself as an up and coming influencer of sorts, perhaps.

Nowhere near S for the entire 2023 Sassenach Summer Tour. How is this equating with dating, that is really beyond me. Seriously. For instance, just before the second sighting, in NYC (June 10, 2023), she was having fun in the Algarve region and Lisbon (of course, Portugal). Probably posted those pics upon her return to NYC:

Dating? More like convenient pretext. He knew people would hang around that hotel (fans, autograph hunters, etc), especially during OL promo peak time. And he knew someone will take that pic, which was then conveniently placed in *urv's lap, for lengthy talks and more innuendo. Just as the first sighting was conveniently placed in Marple's inbox, to see if topic garners interest and sticks around/can be reused for further shits and giggles. Innuendo and nothing more would be my best bet: neither *urv, nor Marple had ANY positive idea about who she was, back at the time.

And now, the third drop was again placed in Marple's inbox, because attention had to be redirected to this particular gossip topic, in rather dire circumstances following Lauren 1.0.

And for your information, she does not follow S and he does not follow her. But he follows her newly opened joint: hangovers are a bitch, I know.

Why? I think it is clear enough why.

Who dunnit? I will let you draw your own conclusions, really. Again, it is rather plain to see. My belief is that this is not TPTB. And for once, I do not think he met her via Raya. Nope.

I took one for the team and listened to that podcast (if you are very foolish or brave or foolishly brave, you can do the same here: https://youtu.be/vBmcnhe2kwg?si=rRu5YCLHS3eZhuFs ). I mean, what is WRONG with those women? That is legit 14 year old bullshit talk about relationships (or the immature impossibility to have a satisfying one). They essentially explain in that podcast they have trouble decoding 'the man' in some relationships and the way they play out. I was laughing so violently my abs (or lack of them) hurt. At some point, I even thought it was some sort of sophisticated second degree, but NO (#cringe).

Also, I think I should be burning my pineapple pajama summer pants. Seriously. If you listen to the whole bullshit, you'll see there is no damn way to substantiate anything based on that. Zero connection.

#fandom #shitshow #Lauren 2.0

96 notes · View notes

oneshotnewbie · 5 months ago

Note

Carina&Maya x daughter

Daughter is old enough to go do things on her own or with a few friends like go to the movies or a restaurant. All she has to do is tell her mom’s where she’s going. Daughter is informed about a little get together at a friends house after going out for dinner, daughter told Maya and Carina she was going out for dinner but not the “after party.” Daughter knows she wouldn’t be allowed to go because it was at a house her moms were unfamiliar with.

Daughter ends up going to the party and tells herself she will only be another hour or so, but time slips away. The party is held in the basement so cell service is pretty much zero.

The party has drinking but daughter know better than to take it. However daughter has a severe allergy to peanuts. There was a table full of snacks and miscellaneous things, nothing was labeled. Everyone was having a good time and daughter wasn’t thinking about anything, she was eating a cookie that was on a platter on the table and she really enjoyed it. The person who brought them said to her “oh yeah those are my mom’s famous cookies” about 5 mins later daughter started to feel really warm and her face was becoming very red and patchy. She collapsed. Her one friend asked what was in the cookies and sure enough they were peanut butter cookies. All of the underage teens were freaking out while someone called 911

Carina was working but Maya had the day off. Andy and Victoria arrived to the house with the aid car. They got to the basement and realized it was (daughter) and acted fast and took her to the hospital. Once settled in the hospital Andy got ahold of her moms to tell them.

So sorry this is long! Thoughts? I know a peanut allergy is cliché but I didn’t want the daughter to drink knowing she can’t go behind her mom’s backs like that. It was just a bunch of preteens thinking they were cool cause they stole a few drinks from their parents cabinets (I’m thinking parents aren’t home) anywhooo I hope this is okay :)) -🦋

ᕚ---ᕘ

Maya Bishop and Carina Deluca were preparing for their upcoming shift at Station 19 that afternoon. The sounds of running engines and the occasional ringing of the duty telephone filled the air as the blonde checked the equipment. Carina, meanwhile, counted the supplies so that the aid car team could make the best possible care of an injury before she made her way back to Grey Sloan.

The two of them were completely absorbed in their work and did not notice a person, a young girl, walking through the open gates, a bright smile and lively eyes betraying anticipation. "Hey, mom, hey mama." You greeted your mothers cheerfully and they both turned around in shock, but returned the smile when they noticed that it was none other than you.

"Hey my sweet. What brings you here?" Maya asked, now completely turning away from her work and giving you your full attention.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going out to dinner with some friends at a restaurant tonight," you explained excitedly, pushing yourself into her outstretched arms. "It's nothing special, just a casual meeting."

Maya and Carina exchanged a look and couldn't suppress their smiles when they heard the news. "That sounds great, y/n. Thanks for coming over and letting us know. Which restaurant are you going to?"

You thought for a moment, briefly checking your phone to tell them the real name of the restaurant. "We decided on a restaurant named 'La Trattoria'. It's not far from here and apparently has great pasta. Y/bf/n drives us there and she also takes me home afterwards."

"That sounds like a good choice, bella," Carina agreed, giving you a small kiss on the cheek as a late greeting and early goodbye. "Have fun and take care. Don't forget to let us know when you're home safely."

"Of course, mama. I'll watch the clock and send you a text. See you later!" you nodded to them as you waved goodbye and left the fire station. A contented sigh escaped the brunette as she watched you go. "Our daughter is growing up, isn't she?"

Maya nodded to her and crossed the last few centimeters that separated her from her wife. Her arms wrapped tightly around her middle from behind while her head rested on her shoulder. "Yes, she's getting older and more independent. But as long as she always informs us where she's going, everything will be fine," she murmured, her gaze shifting towards the open gates where you had recently disappeared entirely.

Meanwhile, your best friend intercepted you on a corner near the fire station and took you with her. You entered the cozy Italian restaurant 'La Trattoria' and were greeted by the tempting smell of pasta and pizza. You both looked around for your other friends and found them already sitting at a table near the window, waiting for you. With a smile you both walked over and sat down.

As you ate together in a cozy atmosphere, the conversation was lively and funny, and you felt comfortable in the company of your closest friends when suddenly one of your friends' cell phone rang. He immediately pulled it out of his pocket and saw a message from one of her friends sending him the address to a party.

"Hey, did you also get the chain message from the party?" he whispered excitedly, placing his open phone on the table to show everyone the online flyer he had received. You raised your eyes and listened intently, not focusing on the phone. "What party do you mean? Where is it?"

Your friend grinned widely. "A huge house party at Jason's, the guy a grade above us. Everyone's talking about it. It's supposed to be legendary!"

You felt a tightening in your stomach and your heart began to beat faster. A party sounded tempting, but you also knew that your mothers had only allowed you to go out to eat with your friends. The idea of telling them you wanted to go to a party afterwards made you feel uneasy.

"When is the party?" You asked uncertainly, taking a sip of your cool drink, not knowing if you should go. "It's supposed to start at 9 p.m. That's still two hours away. Are you in?"

You hesitated for a moment, torn. Should you go? Your mind raced as you weighed the consequences. On one hand, you knew that it would be a violation of your mothers' trust if you just went to a party without telling them. On the other hand, you also knew that you probably wouldn't get permission to go there if you asked.

"What's up, are you okay?" your best friend asked, noticing your hesitation. You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. "It's nothing, I'm in."

Your friends cheered and immediately started making plans for the party as they got back to their food. You tried to suppress your rising doubts. It was just a party for 9th and 10th graders and you were only going to stop by for an hour anyway. What could possibly go wrong?

When it came time to leave for the party, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had decided not to say anything to Maya and Carina and you really hoped that everything would go well.

On the way to the party, you tried to get excited about the night ahead, but a small part of your conscience nagged at you. You knew you should be honest with your mothers, but in that moment you couldn't ignore the urge for freedom and adventure.

Several minutes later and a sigh of inner conflict, you entered the basement to the party and immersed yourself in the vibrant atmosphere of the night. The music was ringing in your ears and people were happily dancing together, immediately feeling alive. You glanced at the clock and repeatedly promised yourself that you would only stay for an hour.

But time flew by. The music, the laughter and the excitement of the people around you captivated you. Hours passed and you found yourself getting deeper into the party. But at some point you noticed that your cell phone had no reception when you wanted to look at the clock. Panic rose in you as you realized that you couldn't tell your parents that you were going to be away longer than planned. But the thought was quickly overshadowed by the party atmosphere and you decided not to worry. It would be fine.

As the night progressed, the celebrations became wilder. Drinks were passed around with a stronger percentage and you were asked to join in more often. But you knew you couldn't go too far. Despite the fun you had, you kept a clear head and stayed away from alcohol. Instead, you decided to indulge in the delicious snacks that lay in the corner of the room.

The table was covered with a variety of goodies: chips, candy, cookies and other tempting things. You smiled as you approached and began exploring the different options. You grabbed a small plate and began placing a selection of the snacks on it.

As you looked further around the table, you noticed a platter of particularly tempting looking cookies. They were perfectly formed and looked incredibly delicious. You couldn't resist and reached for one of the cookies.

You took a bite, closing your eyes in pleasure as the taste unfolded on your tongue. It was incredible - the perfect mix of sweet, soft and crunchy. You couldn't help but let out a contented sigh as you enjoyed another cookie.

Suddenly you heard an unfamiliar voice, that came closer to you. "Oh, there's someone enjoying my mother's famous cookies," she spoke and you quickly opened your eyes, looking up at the older girl. “Your mom makes really amazing cookies,” you remarked, nodding and reaching for another one.

The party continued to rage around you, but for a moment you were just lost in the delicious world. You savored every bite while chatting with your friends and living life to the fullest. But after a few minutes you started to feel uncomfortable. Your skin began to tingle and you felt heat flood your body.

Panic rose within you as you realized what was happening. You had an allergic reaction. Your thoughts were swirling and you tried to stay calm, but the symptoms were getting worse by the second. Your best friend immediately noticed the change in your face and became increasingly nervous as your face became red and blotchy. "Are you all right?" She asked worriedly and you tried to answer but your voice failed and you could only shake your head helplessly. Soon after, everything around you started spinning and you fell tot he ground.

When your friend realized the danger, she pulled out her cell phone and immediately called 911. "911, what is your emergency?" asked the voice on the other end of the line. "My friend has a peanut allergy and she just ate peanut butter cookies. She has an allergic reaction and it is gonna turn into a allergic shock."

Meanwhile, the other party guests reacted to the emerging panic and some of them tried to calm you down. Some of them tried to help with first aid while others stood around you worried.

Meanwhile, Andy and Victoria, who heard about the emergency call, rushed to the house to help. When they arrived, the scene was chaotic, but they immediately put their medical training to use. But when they saw who needed their help, they realized the urgency of the situation.

“Andy, it’s y/n!” Victoria said, lowering herself to the floor next to you. She made sure you were stabilized and acted quickly and effectively while Andy coordinated the situation and asked the young people to give them some space. "Y/n? Our y/n? Damn it!"

Victoria gave you a makeshift supply of adrenaline that she injected into your thigh. "Hey, sweetie. Are you with me?" Andy asked, patting your cheek a few times as she knelt down next to you. You nodded, your eyes focused on her. A smile of relief graced her lips.

Together they carefully picked you up and carried you to their ambulance, which was already waiting outside. They put you on the stretcher and immediately took you to the hospital. Along the way, Victoria kept a careful eye on you while making sure your vital signs remained stable. The ride was eerily quiet as they hoped for your speedy recovery.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were immediately taken to the emergency room, where a team of doctors and nurses were ready to help you. Andy and Victoria stayed by your side while you were examined and treated by the doctors.

At the same time, your mothers were immediately informed by the two and it didn't take long for the two to arrive in the emergency room after receiving the call. Carina stormed towards the two women with concern, her heart beating wildly with worry. Her eyes were wide open in fear as she looked into the treatment room to see you lying on the gurney, surrounded by medical staff. "What the hell happened?" She asked as she wrapped her hands around her torso and chewed her lip nervously.

Maya followed shortly after, her expression marked with worry and fear. When she saw you, she was relieved that you seemed stable so far, but also angry that you hadn't informed her where you were. "Allergic shock. Apparently she ate something she shouldn't have. The caller said it was peanut butter cookies."

"Yeah, yeah. She's allergic to peanuts," the blonde spoke and both women grabbed each other's hands as they nervously waited for the doctors to finish with you and give them an update. "But she knows that too. She pays very strict attention to avoid exactly that."

As the four of them waited in silence, the attending physician came out and explained to Maya and Carina that you were stable, but that you needed to remain under observation due to the severe allergic reaction and that they would do everything they could to make sure you recovered quickly .

Maya and Carina breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed past him with a thank you to get to you as quickly as possible while Andy and Vic stayed outside. "What happened and why didn't you tell us you went to that party?" Maya asked, her voice full of worry and anger.

You lowered your gaze to the blanket, a feeling of shame overcoming you as the two sank into the chairs next to your hospital bed. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to worry you. There were cookies there, unlabeled. It was stupid of me not to say where I was."

Carina sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder. Despite the fury of betraying their trust, they were grateful that you were now in good hands and that you had been taken to the hospital in time. "We're not mad at you, love. But you should have told us where you were going. What would have happened if y/bf/n hadn't called or Andy and Vic hadn't been there on time?"

Maya nodded, agreeing with her wife as she took your hands in hers. "You could have been in serious trouble. We understand that you wanted to have fun, but safety always comes first. We are here to look after you, but we can only do that if you let us know."

You looked at the two of them as their mothers' words resonated within you. You knew you had made a mistake and you would learn from it. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I promise next time I'll let you know right away."

Maya and Carina hugged you tightly as they discussed the importance of communication and safety with you. Despite the frightening experience, you had grown even closer to your mothers, and you were determined to make sure something like this would never happen again.

76 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 8 months ago

Note

Hey Sam. If you're so inclined, could you recommend a few 'must eat' places in Downtown Chicago? My hotel will be near the Red Line (Grand station) and I'm fine walking a good 10 minutes for awesome food. I'm planning my trip and trying to put together a few food places for lunch and dinner and such. Pizza, burgers, bbq, donuts, steak, sushi..., I'm flexible!

You know, honestly, I don't eat out much anymore so I'm not sure where the best places to get a bite are. I'm going to make some recommendations but they're about to be a mixture of "If you come to Chicago this is somewhere everyone goes" and "This is somewhere Sam personally likes to eat but which you may not go for." :D

So, if you're at Grand, you are pretty much on top of the Weber Kettle Grill. Weber Kettle Grill does GREAT grill food and my parents always want to eat there when they come into town. If you ask to sit at the chef's table, you'll be seated at what looks like a bar, but it also looks all the way down the row of giant indoor grills the chefs use to cook the food. If you want something quieter and less busy they also have a fairly large dining room.

If you want a real Chicago experience, there's a Portillo's pretty close to you (that one's called "Portillo's & Barnelli's"); Portillo's is a local chain that does burgers, dogs, and crucially Italian Beef. Italian Beef is my go-to Chicago food for people who (like me) don't want to eat Deep Dish Pizza. It's a crusty roll filled with shredded braised beef; you can get it with sweet peppers, hot peppers, or no peppers (they might call it "giardinera" which is the local term for the pepper relish they use). If you get it "dipped", once the sandwich is made it's dunked in a flavorful jus before being wrapped up; if you don't like wet bread I'd skip this, but I love it. If you REALLY don't like wet bread, maybe get a Chicago Style hot dog instead. Portillo's is also famous for being The Place Where they make you a milkshake with an entire slice of chocolate cake in it. You can also just get a slice of cake, which is fantastic.

There's also an Al's Italian Beef near you if you want a more local experience. Locals absolutely can and will eat at Portillo's, the food's not better at Al's, it's just a bit more tourist-friendly than Al's tends to be.

If you want that true authentic Chicago deep dish experience (pie crust filled with cheese and then topped with sauce) Pizzeria Uno and Pizzeria Due are very close by; they vie for the dubious honor of having invented the deep dish pizza. I can't recommend it, but if you want it, hit one of those.

If you're not from the midwest and would like to sample a decent approximation of Detroit style deep dish (thick bready crust topped with cheese and then sauce) Jet's Pizza likely delivers to your hotel. I can't recommend going to a Jet's, many of them don't have anywhere to sit and eat, and for a pizza joint they're a bit costly, but it's very good pizza. My Detroit friends say it's a perfectly acceptable pie by their standards.

Volare Ristorante is a nearby hidden gem if you're in the mood for upscale Italian; I really like their pasta, but they are on the pricier end. If you're walking east on Grand to get there, you do have to go under Michigan, and you will likely fear that you will be stabbed and left for dead in this weird underground cavern, but I promise you, it's smelly but safe.

Goddess And The Baker and Beatrix are both good places to pick up breakfast. If you wish to glimpse Hell, the Starbucks Roastery at Michigan and Erie is one of the largest buxes in the country (possibly the world?) and is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE to navigate, but it's certainly an experience.

If you're venturing into the Loop, Russian Tea Time is a fun place to have afternoon tea and the a la carte food is also quite good; they're very close to the Art Institute. There's not much to eat if you're going to the museum campus, and my favorite Greek place closed down, but Minghin Cuisine is a good Chinese place (I've eaten there) and AO Hawaiian Hideout is supposedly some of the best Chinese in the city (I have not eaten there).

If you are craving Chinese, you can also catch the Red Line directly to the Chinatown stop and browse, I've never had a bad meal in Chinatown. When you get off the train, if you go north to the station exit with only stairs, you can exit, look left, and see the "new" Chinatown that's basically an outdoor mall; if you go south to the escalator exit, once you leave turn right and you'll see the big pagoda entrance to "old" Chinatown, which is more shops than restaurants. New Chinatown has some excellent bakeries, and also a Korean fried chicken place, Bonchon, that's extremely good. Usually when I take friends we go to Joy Yee which has a huge menu and also bubble tea.

As a final plug I'll list The Berghoff, which is in the loop (off the Jackson Red Line stop); it's pretty hefty German cuisine, all excellent food, and also is a top notch place to take anyone with gluten issues -- the owners have a kid with a gluten intolerance and the restaurant has an exceptional gluten-free menu with unusually strict protocols to prevent cross-contamination in the kitchen.

And if you want to get a little baked first, you are pretty close to Sunnyside dispensary, which is a very nice dispensary with super friendly people. If you take the Red Line to Roosevelt or are in the area, Grasshopper Club is less expensive, just as friendly, and Black-owned, and they've been my go-to for a couple of months now. At either one you can walk-in to speak to a budtender about what you'd like, or you can preorder online, but be aware that there are limitations on what out-of-staters can purchase. Having sampled most of the gummies out there, I'd recommend Mindy's (any flavor is good but the black cherry is my preferred). Do bring ID, you will be carded.

I hope you enjoy Chicago! If you have more questions feel free to hit me up here or at [email protected] if you'd like to have more of like, a dialogue :) Have fun and eat well!

#chicago #chicago food #food #dining

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kscheibles · 1 year ago

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e la vita ch. 1

content warnings: f! reader, drug mentions, drinking, emetophobia, bisexuality (homophobes and biphobes begone I will block u so fast)

word count: 3.8k

I didn’t want to be in Italy this summer.

That makes me sound ungrateful or something, but it’s the truth. Three months ago, I had planned to stay in Brooklyn with Claire all summer long. Hosting dinner parties, eating greasy breakfast sandwiches, dancing to old $1 records in our cramped apartment, picnicking in Prospect Park, and being totally, delusionally in love.

That was before things went south, she stopped trying and left me with more rent than I could possibly pay in the city. When Christina had first mentioned that a group of her friends was headed to Italy for the summer, I’d dismissed the possibility of going with them. Not only did I dread cohabitating with her wealthy, influencer friends who seemed to deal only in clout, I thought I’d be otherwise engaged. Weeks later, I’d gone back to her groveling, asking if I could sleep on the pull-out couch in Nina’s family villa for the summer. Luckily, the sofa was still available.

Now I sit at a wrought iron table – lease broken and all of my belongings sold to wealthy Manhattanites – in the warm yellow light of the Lombard sunset. Around me are chatty, outgoing girls, each more beautiful than the last. They gab about clubs and brands and boys. In the sea of Botox and iPhones, I cling to Christina like a life buoy. I push my tortellini around my plate to make it look like I have an interest in food, but I really don’t. I’m jet-lagged and uncomfortable. And even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, relying on oat lattes and dirty water dogs to keep me alive.

“Try the pasta,” Christina jabs, “trust me, you’ll have a lot more fun this summer if you lean in.” I break the shell open with my fork revealing succulent ricotta curds and bright green spinach. The filing swims in a sauce of brown butter and fragrant tarragon but doesn’t affect me as it should. Nothing does anymore. The group’s conversation interrupts my train of thought.

“They’ve come every summer since the nineties, same as us,” says Nina, smirking at the girl to her left. “Hottest little accents you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Who is she talking about?” I whisper to Christina.

“The boys in the other house,” she says, “the one you see on your way up here.” Nina’s family’s home is at a higher altitude than the rest of the city, necessitating a laborious hike to the bottom to actually do anything while in town. I’m sure that they’d been sold on the privacy of the location, but its impracticality left me wanting. The only other villa nearby sat at the base of the lush green hills before the road disappeared into winding dirt.

Another girl chimes in, “I saw them last year at a dinner in the city. They’re cute, too,” she coos.

“I kissed George the summer I turned fifteen,” brags Nina and the whole table breaks into oohs and aahs. I usually have a shut-up-unless-spoken-to policy at group dinners, but I know Christitna is right. If I don’t lean in then the credit card debt I’d amassed to buy my plane ticket and the back problems I'm sure to contract from sleeping on a pull-out couch for a whole summer will have been for naught. Think of it as an acting exercise, I tell myself, a performance of the girl who is totally not hung up on her ex and excited for a fun summer with her friends.

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “who are these guys?”

“They’re in a band,” says Nina.

“Like a real one?” I ask. Years of living in New York have taught me that all bands are not, in fact, real ones. Nina laughs.

“You’re funny,” she muses, “yes, a real one. They’re like famous. We’ll go over eventually, they throw the best parties you can find around here. Get real drugs, too. Not just liters upon liters of Aperol, not that I mind that either.”

With my question sufficiently answered, I return quietly to my pasta, cutting each shell into impossibly smaller pieces until it’s rabbit food that will glide down my throat and do the hard job of nourishing me without any work on my part.

–

After dinner, I tuck into the pull-out couch in the villa’s spacious living room. The lack of A/C and the balmy summer air make it impossible to enjoy the luxurious wool blankets Nina’s family no doubt splurged on. I allow myself to eavesdrop on the elated sounds coming from upstairs: women confiding in each other, commiserating about their troubles, and shrieking excitedly at each other's successes.

I first try to doze off at 10:15, hoping that an early night will be exactly what I need and I’ll wake up refreshed and on Italian time. After an hour of staring at the popcorn ceilings and trying to suppress my crippling fear of missing out, I’ve tired my mind out enough to begin slipping toward sleep. I have fewer and fewer thoughts until I’m jolted by a hip-hop bassline. It resonates through the trundle bed and rebounds off my ribs, cozying itself into my heart. As I begin to come to, I recognize the chords of a house track that used to play at the girl bar Claire and I frequented in Green Point. The melody is warm and familiar and undeniably annoying. How loud must the music be for it to affect me so acutely even as I’m a few kilometers away from them?

I decide I’m pissed – and yes I decided. I’m freshly single, broke, jet-lagged, and fucking pissed at those entitled rich assholes. I slide my sandals on and head out down the hill in my sleep clothes.

I step outside onto the winding dirt road that leads the way to the boys’ home. The night is dark, lit by stars much brighter than I’m used to seeing in Brooklyn. I tilt my head back to look at them, trying to identify the big dipper. After a few seconds, I’m dizzy. I shake myself and trudge ahead, almost lulled into submission by the constant chirping of cicadas and the sweet fragrance of orange blossom that wafts off the bushes.

With each step I take towards the boys’ villa (what were their names again? Nina said one was called George), the music, electronic and fast-paced, becomes louder.

When I first knock on the faded wood door, I’m quite sure no one has heard me. I stand outside for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should knock again or cut my losses and return up the hill. I decide I may as well disrupt their party as some kind of karmic retribution for keeping me awake even as I’m exhausted from a transatlantic flight. I raise my fist and rap harshly at the door. A moment later, it flies open, revealing a curly-haired boy. Well, not boy, I decide as I inspect his features – lines decorate his forehead, and gray peeks out at me from within a ringlet that hangs over his eyes. He gives me a once over and can immediately tell I’m not here for the party.

“Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed. His accent lilts and falls over the words. All of a sudden, I feel insecure in my braless and plaid pajama-clad state. He’s beautiful – and exasperated by me. I double down on my own annoyance.

“Would you mind turning the music down?” I ask, still cordial, “I’m staying at the house up the way and I can’t get to sleep.”

The guy in front of me purses his lips and considers me for a moment. I feel itchy and uncomfortable. He’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes, to my soft hips and painted toes and peaked nipples.

“Let me show you around, gorgeous,” he smiles, “then maybe you won’t mind so much.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the party. A warmth covers me as I cross the threshold into the villa. The inside of the home smells like college: cheap weed, sweet sticky mixers, and sweat. My sandals stick slightly to the floor, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be here right now. Like the alcohol that’s been spilled on the ground is some great cosmic interference to convince me to go home and get the rest I ought to.

Suddenly, a big hand falls on the shoulder of the boy who’s pulling me by my limbs.

“Matty!” says the man. I can make out enough to see that he’s tall and devastatingly handsome.

“George!” the boy – Matty, I remind myself – drops my hand and fully embraces the bigger guy. “Was just showing…” he nods at me to introduce myself.

“Y/n.”

“Around,” Matty finishes. George gives me a once over.

“Did she just roll out of bed? Or get released from prison?”

“Y/n came to ask us to keep the noise down,” Matty declares with fake sincerity, “Not a partier, are ya love?”

“Under the right circumstances, I can be,” I retort. Matty and George’s eyebrows raise in amusement, faces breaking out in smiles. That sounded much more cunning in my head. Now I feel like a toy they’re playing with, winding me up to see what noises I make. It feels infantilizing. I’m uncomfortable, crawling in my skin; pride battered and desperate to go home as soon as it doesn’t look like I’m running away from a fight of my own picking. “I’d better be going actually,” I assert.

Matty puckers his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll show you out, princess.” It’s a sweet nickname but it tastes bitter out of his mouth. He seems to twist everything good and make it unbearable. I resent him for it. I trudge in front of Matty towards the door with steadfast focus. As I cross the threshold, I turn to meet his gaze.

“Thanks for nothing,” I say calmly. Matty breaks into a devilishly smug grin. His eyebrows tilt a little and his lips reveal a few crooked teeth at the bottom of his mouth.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” he says. I scoff and turn on my heels, leaving Matty in the dust.

–

The scent of freshly chopped garlic fills the kitchen as I stand in an assembly line of young women with cutting boards and chefs knives, each diligently chopping an ingredient for the bruschetta.

In front of me is a bunch of basil, perfectly fresh and green. I gently remove the leaves from the stem and create a pile in the middle of my board. It reminds me of when I would be tasked with raking the leaves as a kid. Too distracted by my childish whims, I would create more work for myself by piling the leaves on top of each other and taking a grandiose dive into them before scooping them up into a trash bag and discarding them. Each leaf was like a piece of confetti, a celebration of the season and of youth. Now I do these things to prove to myself that I’m young and that I can still conjure up that imaginative, playful nature if I try hard enough.

As I rock my knife back and forth over the soft leaves, Christina asks me where I was the night before.

“I came out around eleven to invite you upstairs, but I couldn’t find you,” she says.

Embarrassed, I train my eyes to the task at hand. This is not the group to look like a tattle-tale in front of. Actually, there’s very few groups in which that would fly. My penchant for playing God and divvying out karmic consequences to everyone whose path I cross is a part of my nature I’m not particularly fond of. I’m not keen to share it, especially around people who are still making up their minds about me. Despite my steadfast beliefs and borderline-outlandish behaviors, I maintain a fervent desire to be liked. It’s pathetic.

“I stepped out for some air,” I murmur.

“Really?” she nudges, “Because I didn’t see you on the porch.”

I turn my basil bunch 90 degrees in a flourish, beginning to chop it lengthwise.

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because of the music,” I spit.

“And…” Christina has always been too good at getting me to reveal my true feelings. She goads me torturously until it’s easier to say what I’m thinking than to conceal it.

“And I went to ask them to turn the music down,” I finish, “There, are you happy?”

“Very,” she smiles.

I pick up the chopped basil, letting the pieces float through my fingers and deciding I need to chop them smaller, still. I whack at the pile haphazardly, ruining the lovely squares I meticulously crafted earlier.

“They didn’t turn it down, if you were wondering,” I pant, “Pricks.” Christina chuckles to herself.

“No one ever does.”

–

The music of the club is omnipresent as I enter hand in hand with Christina. On my feet are heels too high to be comfortable, but the perfect lift to accentuate my calves. As soon as I cross the threshold, I drag Christina to the bartender, ordering two negronis. We idle by the bar for a moment and I take in my surroundings, savoring the bitter aftertaste of my drink and the waltz of the lights that flicker and cover the dancefloor with reverie. I listen to the synths and flourishes of the melody that envelop my senses. I hadn’t expected to like the music, but the DJ is spinning disco and it just feels right: the cold Italian aperitif, the funky basslines, and the tranquil nighttime air. I almost wish I’d left my phone at home. Nights like these aren’t compatible with phones anyway. The atmosphere feels like a relic of a bygone era, full of free love and intoxication.

Nina and a friend of hers find Christina and me at the bar and run up to us with inebriated bravado. “You guys made it!” she squeals. Little does she know we were pre-gaming at the villa in anticipation of this exact moment. I couldn’t handle Nina while sober tonight, that much I was absolutely sure of. It also didn’t help that I was alone – for the first time in several years – in a romantic foreign country without the girl whom I still loved. As unhealthy as it was, alcohol made that reality hurt a bit less. Nina grabs my hands and leads Christina and me away from the bar.

“I need to introduce you to the DJs!” Nina exclaims. I glance at Christina to communicate that no, I’m not particularly enthused at the prospect of meeting some Eurotrash guy whose head is shaved and whose torso is covered in Gucci logos. She returns the glance, silently begging me to behave. I relent.

Nina leads us around the side of the floor to some kind of dark stairwell. Rationally, I should be scared of being kidnapped but my drunken stupor inspires more carelessness than I would usually indulge in. I watch the sway of Christina’s hips and follow her like a lost puppy. Finally, we reach the top and the DJ deck is revealed. It’s shadowy and hazy. To the left is a corner booth with a straight couple making out in a way that really ought to be illegal in public. Past the lookout, laser lights flicker and sweep across the dancefloor, catching on the artificial fog and filling the air with psychedelic color. My eyes fall on the backs of two figures at the DJ booth, smoke rising above their heads. I can make out that one has headphones on and is faffing with the turntable while the other has their hands in the air and the small, flickering glow of a lit cigarette dancing around their figure. I’m dragged towards them by Nina who throws an arm around each of their necks in greeting. As soon as the one with the cig turns around, I catch his eyes.

It’s Matty. Selfish, arrogant Matty. I nod my head and flatten my mouth in a kind of recognition. The room is spinning from the alcohol and my skin is buzzing with discomfort. The bass of the music resonates in my ribs, teaching my heart how to beat. My mouth tastes salty and my knees feel weak.

I’m running to the corner where I can see a bin. Tears prick at my eyes and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I swiftly empty the contents of my stomach into the small trash can. I kneel on the rough carpet and brace myself on either side of the bin with my hands. Between heaves, I lift my head to shake my hair off the back of my neck. The cool air feels grounding, but I’m soon back with my head in the can. I feel a hand on the back of my head, wrangling my frizzy hair off of my shoulders. I gasp, looking back for the sisterly comfort of Christina’s bottomless, cerulean eyes. Instead, I find a pair of brown, honey-flecked irises: Matty’s. I’m reeling too severely to be upset or confused; I’m just grateful when he uses his free hand to sweep my damp bangs out of my face and nods at me.

“Go on,” he encourages, “better out than in.”

I bury my head in the bucket again.

“Atta girl,” Matty coos in my ear. I can almost notice his hand rubbing circles on my back. Even when I’m quite sure I’m finished, I keep my head down for a moment savoring the last few seconds that I don��t have to look Matty in the eyes. Curse him for helping me. I wouldn’t know how to interact with him under normal circumstances, much less when he’s been nice to me – and watched me unceremoniously blow chunks into a bin.

“You feel better?” he asks. I lift my head tentatively, still scared another wave of nausea will hit me.

“I think so, yeah,” I mumble. Matty searches my eyes for any warning sign that I’m still sick.

“Have you got a hair tie?” I instinctually fish in my jeans pocket for one, handing it to him. Slowly, he corrals my locks into a ponytail and secures it, fingers grazing the tops of my ears and making me shiver. I sit back against the wall with my legs splayed out in front of me, knees visibly carpet burnt from my previous position. Matty flops down beside me. He reaches out to touch the red, irritated skin.

“You don’t need a doctor or something, do you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I hiss when he applies a little pressure to my knee and shake his hands off me, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“When have I not been nice?”

“You wouldn’t turn the music down the other night,” I state. He smiles at me, eyes scrunching up until his pupils are totally obscured.

“No one ever turns the music down,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus,” he adds, “I thought you were a buzzkill. Now I can see that’s not the case, sweetheart.”

“I can usually handle my drink better than this,” I protest, “And I’m also usually not a buzzkill.”

“I guess I don’t know anything about you, then,” he acquiesces, thinking for a moment, “Do you want to start over?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I nod, smiling tipsily.

“So what’s caused you to be sick tonight?” Matty asks, leaning his head back against the wall. His hair is curled up in perfect ringlets and his skin glows golden even in the dim club light. He looks at me carefully, like his stare could hurt me. It could, I suppose.

“Alcohol?” I say it like that should be obvious. His face wrinkles up again in a laugh I can vaguely identify as something that’s my fault. He looks pretty. I realize I want to make him do it again and again forever. I want to see the crinkles that grow at the sides of his eyes and the curl of his upper lip that reveals his boyishly crooked teeth.

“I figured as much. Anything in particular that drove you to drink?” I frown for a second, trying to remember.

“My ex,” I say quietly.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, “that’s the problem. She didn’t do anything.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago?” My god, it’s already been two months.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “that’s still fresh.” I shrug.

“It’s alright I guess. You just feel a little betrayed when someone stops trying. I thought that was the whole point of…” I trail off, gesticulating aimlessly with my hands, “love or whatever. To keep trying.”

“I get it,” he utters.

“People stop trying with rockstars, too?” I tease. He smiles.

“How did you know that I’m a musician?”

“Well, first of all, I said rockstar–”

“Which I chose to ignore because it was sarcastic.” I roll my eyes.

“And second of all, the girls I’m staying with told me,” I finish. He nods in understanding.

“Well yeah,” he sighs pensively, “people stop trying with everybody. Even rockstars. If I’ve learnt anything in my life, it’s that giving up usually has more to do with them than it does with you.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I argue.

“Nothing does. You just have to let it hurt for a while.”

We’re both quiet for a second. I catch a couple of bars of an Earth, Wind, and Fire song and hum along, content with the silence. I let my head fall onto Matty’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head to look at me.

“Oh fuck, sorry. Is this okay?” I ask, hand flying to my mouth “I know I just puked.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “I just didn’t think you would want to.”

“I want to,” I kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his white button-up shirt. He watches me the whole time as though he can’t quite compute what’s happening. Then he snaps back to his regular confident state.

“Let me know if you ever want to deal with your girlf– ex without drinking your feelings away…” he trails off, mouth meeting the crown of my head, “I’d love to show you around here sometime.”

“Okay,” I mumble, the alcohol, tiredness, and emotions beginning to get the better of me and coax me toward sleep.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matty grabs my hand from my lap and wraps it in his two larger ones, caressing my thumb and humming into my ear.

–

a/n: the next bit is written, but I am still writing the end. smut soon! x

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy

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wen-kexing-apologist · 9 months ago

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WKA Gay Analysis Assembly, Part Two

Well, it finally happened. My first Gay Analysis Assembly Post refused to edit for me. So I guess it's time to start a Part Two for all the new essays that I have been writing!

Please check out Part One here, it contains essays on: Utsukushii Kare, Moonlight Chicken, Bed Friend, Our Dining Table, Our Skyy 2, Step by Step, La Pluie, Cupid's Last Wish, Be My Favorite, My Ride, Only Friends, I Feel You Linger in the Air, Shadow, Last Twilight, and The Sign

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

Unit 1- Coming of Age: Pariah (2011), Get Real (1998), Edge of Seventeen (1998), My Own Private Idaho (1991), and Mysterious Skin (2004)

Unit 2- Race, Class, Disability: The Way He Looks (2014), Being 17 (2016), Naz and Maalik (2015), The Obituary of Tunde Johnson (2019),Margarita With a Straw (2014), My Beautiful Laundrette (1985), Brother to Brother (2004), and Beautiful Thing (1996)

Unit 3- Faith and Religion: But I’m a Cheerleader (2000), Prayers for Bobby (2009), Latter Days (2003), Blackbird (2014), The Wise Kids (2011), Henry Gamble’s Birthday Party (2015)

Unit 4- Heartbreak Alley: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004),Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993),The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the Side (1995)

Love in the Big City TV Show

Episode 1-2

Episode 3-4: What Does Eating Pasta Have to Do With a Tough Past?

Episode 5-6 Coming Soon

Episode 7-8 Coming Soon

The Miracle of Teddy Bear

I am being so sincere when I say episode 10 is one of my favorite episodes of BL of all time

Unknown

Episode 6: Breakdown Breakdown

Episode 7: Return Breakdown

Episode 8: Losing My Mind

Episode 9: Parallels

Episode 10: The Couch

Episode 10: Qian and Yuan

Episode 11: To Grow Taller

Fanfiction: Afterglow

Episode 12: Doors

Episode 12: Tie Scene

Dead Friend Forever

Dead Friend Forever: Episode 5

Power Dynamics in Dead Friend Forever

Dead Friend Forever: Squicks and Triggers Ep 1-8, Ep 9, Ep 10, Ep 12

Cooking Crush

Cooking Crush, Episode 8

Body Language in Cooking Crush

Love in the Big City Book Club

Part One: Two Friends Diverged in Emotional Sincerity

Part Two

Part Three: Now Introducing Kylie

Part Four: Regret, Rain, Loss, and Love

Love for Love's Sake

Symptoms of a System Error: Manifestation of Depression in Love for Love's Sake

Kiseki

Kiss-eki: Dear to Me

#kiseki: dear to me #love for love's sake #litbc book club #cooking crush #dead friend forever #unknown the series #the miracle of teddy bear #love in the big city #bengiyo queer cinema syllabus

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no1tolerateitfan · 4 months ago

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i sit and watch you reading with your head low...

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welcome to my girlblog!

colette , fifteen (taylor's version) , january capricorn , she/her , american-french-spanish , bilingual , tennis , soccer , estj , pinterest girlie , uptown girl , middle child , cabin 10 , ravenclaw , thought daughter , matt girl , hector forts wife actually

im a girl who loves...

pasta , shoes , fancy dresses , swans , jane austen , fashion , affirmations , grwms , hector fort , fruit salads , history , rome , mason thames , christmas , picnics , brandy melville , spain , navy blue , pink , snow , music , reading , winter , ivy leagues , fc barcelona , evermore , romcoms , coffee , emma chamberlain , models , concerts , any march , period films , the idea of motherhood , adam brody , traveling , brunettes , vogue magazine , nyt games , staying in , autumn , birthday parties , rhode , my family , the sturniolo triplets , france , doing my hair , learning new words , making new friends , nara smith , daydreaming , piercings , my boyfriend , being on dnd , shopping , matcha , setting goals , vanilla everything , summer roberts , real estate , concerts , stuffed animals , girlbloggers , healthy lifestyle , makeup , flowers , animals , halloween , starbucks , early mornings , etc<3

fangirl favorites

spotify deep dive;

gracie abrams , taylor swift , olivia rodrigo , sabrina carpenter , chappell roan , madison beer , lana del rey , clairo , billie eilish , lizzy mcalpine , noah kahan , maisie peters , laufey , role model , phoebe bridgers , harry styles , reneé rapp , mitski , tate mcrae , cas , paramore , boygenius , beabadoobee , niall horan , conan gray , billy joel , the neighbourhood , fleetwood mac , ethel cain , marley brown , arctic monkeys , abba , the cranberries , alessi rose , mazzy star , zach bryan , chris stapleton , ariana grande , avril lavigne , mckenna grace<3

film files;

little women , la la land , the princess diaries , lady bird , 10 things i hate about you , 13 going on 30 , pretty woman , 27 dresses , the devil wears prada , scream , when harry met sally , call me by your name , 500 days of summer , how to lose a guy in 10 days , notting hill , runaway bride , clueless , priscilla , a rainy day in new york , midnight in paris , corpse bride , the perks of being a wallflower , black swan , dead poets society , harry potter , narnia , enola holmes , beautiful boy , pride and prejudice , the notebook , the proposal , mamma mia , dirty dancing , grease , the parent trap , white chicks , ella enchanted , sixteen candles , she's the man , miss congeniality , my girl , the virgin suicides , the edge of seventeen , the amazing spiderman , mean girls , legally blonde , thirteen , breakfast at tiffany's , girl, interrupted , twilight , uptown girls , star wars , heathers , old disney<3

tv show archive;

grey's anatomy , gossip girl , gilmore girls , the oc , one tree hill , one day , friends , derry girls , baby , pretty little liars , anne with an e , how i met your mother , the office , criminal minds , supernatural , tsitp , bones , the flash , outer banks , suits , stranger things , you , the crown , emily in paris , satc , agggtm , jane the virgin , the vampire diaries , scream queens , supergirl , killing eve , glee , teen wolf , b99 , boy meets world , dawsons creek<3

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please please please reach out to me if we have the same interests , need to chat , or wanna be moots, i love meeting new ppl and being able to interact with you guys. my sideblog is @vani11alattes , if you wanna check it out! xoxo💗

!! dni if you are nsfw , 18+ , a mature themed blogs , racist , homophobic , misogynistic , and rude. this is a safe space for myself and others, do NOT ruin it by being oppressive !!

^if you are over the age of 18 and a girlblogger you are exempt from this

i am catholic , pro-palestine , and do not support russia. i don't typically talk about these topics, but if you don't agree with my views and beliefs , simply do not interact with me. thank you!

#this is a girlblog #fangirl

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adarkrainbow · 4 months ago

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Tales from Broca street: The Mouffetard street witch

Let me begin with the first Broca street fairytale I ever encountered, as well as one of the most famous of the lot: "La sorcière de la rue Mouffetard", "The witch of Mouffetard street".

Once upon a time, in the Mouffetard street, in the aptly named Goblin neighborhood, lived a very old and very ugly witch who wanted to become young and pretty. [La rue Mouffetard is a real street, located near Broca street, in fact Mouffetard street is one of the oldest Parisian streets ; and the neighborhood is really called le quartier des Gobelins, because there is a famous manufecture there called "Les Gobelins"].

One day, as she was checking the Witches Newspaper, she discovered an ad that revealed the secret to turn old and ugly women into young and pretty girls: all that is needed is to eat a little girl, with tomato sauce. There is a caveat however: the little girl must have a name beginning with N. Immediately the witch is settled: she knows a little girl with an N-name... Nadia, one of the daughters of papa Saïd from the Broca street nearby.

As Nadia was coming back from the baker with some bread, the witch stopped her and, pretending to be a harmless old woman, asked her to go fetch a box of tomato sauce from her father's shop to bring it to her. Nadia, kind-hearted, agrees, not knowing she will be bringing by herself the sauce with which the witch will eat her. However, when her father sees what she is doing he tells her: "No. If this old woman wants something, she should come by herself to the shop, don't bring anything to her." The following day the witch goes to Nadia after she made the groceries, asking her why she didn't bring the sauce: when Nadia explains why, the witch decides it is safer to go buy the tomato sauce herself.

So the witch goes to Papa Saïd's shop, and tries to ask him for a tomato sauce box - however she keeps revealing by mistake her real intentions, much to the confusion of papa Saïd ("What do you want? / I want Nadia! / What? / No, I meant a box of tomato sauce! / Okay, small or big? / Big, it's for Nadia! / What? / No, I meant... big it's for pasta! / Oh, so you want to buy pasta with it? / No, I already have Nadia! / What!"

Hopefully papa Saïd clearly isn't bright enough to understand the old woman is a child-eating witch. The witch tries to have papa Saïd send his daughter Nadia to deliver the box at her house, or at least help her carrying it, pretending it is quite heavy... But papa Saïd, simple-minded, down-to-earth merchant that he is, dryly answers "We don't do deliveries, and my daughter has more important things to do: if this box is too heavy for you, leave it here!"

The witch is disappointed, but at least now she has the sauce.

To catch Nadia she designs a new plan: since Nadia regularly goes to the market of Mouffetard street to buy food for her family, she will disguise herself as one of the market' merchants to capture her. But again the witch has no real luck. The first time she becomes a butcher-woman, only for Nadia to come to buy chicken. The next market day she turns herself in a chicken-seller... but Nadia is here to buy meat from the butcher. So the third market day the witch decides to disguise herself as a merchant of both white and red meat... Only for Nadia to buy fish.

Deeply angry at the situation, the witch then decides to use her magic to become ALL OF THE MERCHANTS OF THE MOUFFETARD MARKET! And so she turns into all of them (267 in total). When Nadia goes to buy vegetables the next market day, the witch seizes her by the arm, and locks her within her cash drawer.

Hopefully, Nadia had a brave little brother named Bachir who, upon seeing his sister not coming home from the market, understood the witch had captured her. He took his guitar, disguised himself as a blind musician, and went to the market. There he started singing a song to "earn a few coins", despite the 267 merchant-witches not liking this very much and trying to dissuade him from doing so: the song was "Nadia, where are you?" (basically just him asking "Nadia, where are you, answer me, I don't see you, I need to hear you"). Nadia screams for help from the cash-drawer, only for the witch to realize it isn't a blind musician who is singing... They try to capture him, but Bachir knocks out cold one of the merchants with his guitar, which makes all the other market-vendors drop (since they are all one and the same, the witch).

Bachir goes to the vegetable vendor's cash-drawer and tries to open it, but he is not strong enough. While he is attempting to free his sister, the witch(es) wakes up, but doesn't stand up and keeps her eyes half-closed. Slowly, slowly, the 267 fake vendors creep on the ground, sliding closer and closer to Bachir in complete silence...

Hopefully, a strong sailor happens to pass by. Bachir asks him for help, to get the drawer unstuck and free his sister. The sailor is not sure: "What would I gain out of this?". Bachir simply answers: "When the drawer is unstuck, I'll take my sister, you'll take the money." The sailor is "Deal!" and promptly uses his strength to try to open the drawer - right as the witch pounces on Bachir.

In the confusion, the VERY heavy cash-drawer drops onto the skull of the witch, which cracks open with her brain spilling everywhere (it wouldn't be a good fairytale without some gore). And this also happens to her 266 copies across the market. Under the shock the drawer gets unstuck and Nadia is set free.

And it is an happy ending, as the children return home alive... and the sailors picks up all the money he can get. Gripari adds the quite gruesome detail that the sailor picks up the coins right out of the witch's blood.

The end.

#les contes de la rue broca #contes de la rue broca #tales of broca street #la sorcière de la rue mouffetard #the mouffetard street witch #pierre gripari

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dingbatnix · 1 year ago

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Lasagna

Gosh dang you notice how weird that is to spell? English is so freaking weird you'd think there'd be a 'Y' in friggin 'la-za-nya' but no I guess not xD. Anyway, so I had some lasagna the other day and it was really good, + I had a small drabble floating around of Sapnap being able to survive being baked in an oven, sooooo this appeared!

O yeah taglist: @i-am-beckyu @brick-a-doodle-do @kayla-crazy-stuffs here you go @da3dm a bit late but oop xD

Also I did an art for this : D

Poor Sap, he is a frighten. Anyway.

Word Count: 2,686

Warnings: Fear of death, fear of being eaten, yeah that's about it. No actual noms this time, but it's very close ; D

The furnace was hot, and the quickly melting cheddar cheese was even hotter. Sapnap tried to wriggle, heart pounding heavily in his chest from the panic and adrenaline that was overwhelming his system, but it was no use. There were layers of pasta, cheese, and sauce weighing down his entire body, and he just could not move. Honestly, he was surprised he could breathe at all, what with the blanket of noodles over his head. He was lucky his earlier wriggling had created a pocket of air, even if it was only a small one.

Sapnap was…currently stuck. He hadn’t meant to fall into the pan of uncooked lasagna during a brief spell when the human had been gone. It was a total accident! He’d just wanted to grab some of the deliciously alluring cheese that was all over the top of the pasta, but he got startled when the human walked back into the room and had fallen in. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on which way Sapnap wanted to look at it, he’d fallen hard enough that he had been embedded deeply into the noodles, and he was fortunate the human hadn’t noticed the indent, but…the bean had proceeded to put more layers of lasagna over the top, trapping Sapnap underneath them.

Sapnap hadn’t been able to struggle free in time, and next he knew, the pasta, and more importantly, he, was put into the blazing hot furnace. The borrower bit his lip with a sharp canine, holding back a long whine of terror. It wasn't the fear of physical injury that was giving him such horrible anxiety, no, not that. Sapnap was born in fire, the heat didn't hurt him. No, it was the fear of discovery that locked his joints and seized his lungs. He didn’t know what was worse: The fact that he might be discovered, or the fact that there was the very real possibility that he might be accidentally eaten by an unaware human.

That, and also maybe the fact that there was a chance he would be impaled by a human's fork.

He wriggled again, sucking in another short breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. What a way to go out. It was a good thing he didn’t have any family left, a good thing there would be nobody to mourn him. He wouldn’t be able to live with…or, well. He couldn’t bear it if he were leaving anybody to fend for themselves, alone, in the world that was way too big for them. He’d feel awful.

It was a long, long forty minutes Sapnap was trapped in the maybe-a-little-too-warm oven. Sure, he was a nether-born, and he could swim in lava if he really wanted to, but that didn’t mean that it’d be good for him to do so. He’d get heat-sick.

The borrower was almost relieved when the pan was pulled out of the oven, but the overwhelming thought that none of this was over just yet crushed that feeling very quickly. He still couldn’t get free, the weight of all of the pasta on top of his body too much for him to move.

A thud jarred his body, and then he heard the human’s voice, too muffled and indistinct to make out, high above his head. Then, he heard a nauseating squelch as the lasagna was cut. Sapnap shivered, but didn’t have much time to dwell on it. To his utter, complete horror, the chunk he was stuck in was lifted free from the pan. He still couldn’t see anything, but he felt when everything was jarred again. Vertigo swirled through his head as everything started moving, and he had to try desperately to control his breathing and not burst out into terrified whimpering.

Sapnap tried struggling again, but everything was still too closely packed, and the jarring movements of the human had made the pasta shift, all but burying Sapnap’s small pocket of air. He tried not to hyperventilate. He didn’t know if it’d be better or worse if he was found unconscious. Probably worse. There’d be no chance to run away if he were comatose.

He felt more than saw the tines of a metal fork scrape underneath him, spearing through one of the big flat noodles underneath his body. He felt a tine scrape along his spine, sending skin-crawling shivers wracking his body, and it took him only a moment to realize that the strap of his bag had been caught around the metal prong. He tried tugging at it as he was lifted up, but the leather was caught too tightly.

Sapnap looked up, chest heaving wildly, and a huge, gaping red maw filled his vision. His heart nearly exploded from the sheer terror, and his breath froze in his lungs. Those teeth were nearly as big as he was!

The borrower jerked his limbs, attempting to jump off of the fork, but the strap of his bag and the congealed pasta held him stuck fast. He tried heaving himself up, but it was no use! A quick glance back up at his approaching death made his own mouth go dry. He was fire-retardant, yeah, but he wouldn't be able to survive being chewed to bits!

Sapnap let loose a scream that could rival a phantom’s, sure he was about to die. Be it by the human’s teeth, or by the human’s hands, he wasn’t sure, but his doom was imminently approaching, and there was nothing he could do about it.

°°°°°°°°

George froze, fork midway to his mouth. The hand fiddling with his communicator stilled, and he glanced down with wide eyes, sure he had just heard someone scream. A flash of movement snatched his gaze to his forkful of pasta, and then all George could do was stare.

There was a tiny creature on his fork, tangled up in thick clumps of cheese and sauce. Its little chest was heaving, and its tiny teeth were bared in a fearful grimace as it met George’s eyes.

The creature tried to lunge off of the utensil, but the partially congealed cheese held it stuck fast. As George watched, he realized that the strap of its tiny bag was caught on one of the tines of his fork. A terrified noise escaped from the creature’s mouth, jolting the brunette out of his startled stupor.

George shrieked and dropped the fork, shoving back from the table and shooting to his feet. His communicator clattered to the table, forgotten in the brunette’s panic.

The creature gave another tiny scream of its own as it fell, wriggling and thrashing against the congealed pasta that held it hostage, but it didn’t seem like it was strong enough to break away.

It hit the table with a small, wet splat, snapping the strap of its bag and knocking it free from the fork, and then it was trying to scramble away, but cheese was still gluing its limbs together, even the tiny, tufted tail that trailed from its spine. George gaped, watching in bewilderment as the creature struggled to pull itself off of the table. It finally managed to free an arm, which spurred George into action.

He snatched up Dream's empty cup and slammed it down over the tiny creature, trapping it underneath the ceramic container. A tiny, muffled sound escaped from the mug as George yanked his hand back, staring down at it in disbelief. What the hell…?

"George? Everything okay?" Dream poked his head around the doorframe, concern creasing the shape of his brow. His eyes took in the mess on the table and George standing a good couple of feet away from it.

"There's a tiny man under the mug." George mumbled, staring blankly at the overturned mug, and then up at Dream. The blond’s face scrunched up in bewilderment, and he looked at George like he had grown a second head. “What?”

“There’s a tiny man under the mug,” George reiterated, pointing at the overturned pink mug for emphasis. His face suddenly screwed up in disgust. "It was in my food!" He exclaimed, waving his hands emphatically at the barely-touched plate of lasagna on the table. Dream had to hold back a small laugh.

Interest piqued, the tall blonde moved to the table and looked over the upside down mug curiously. It seemed normal enough…

Carefully, Dream wrapped a hand around the mug and quickly flipped it over, cupping his other hand over the top so whatever the creature was couldn’t escape and gently set the cup back down on the table. Slowly, he removed his hand, peering down inside of the mug to see what George was freaking out so much about.

Something was pressed up against the inside side of the cup, staring at Dream. Dream had to stop when he finally got a good glimpse of it, shock and disbelief coloring his expression. George was right. It–err, more namely, he, was just a tiny guy. He was incredibly small, maybe about two or three inches in stature. He had a long, thin tail like a mouse that faded to a rich brown at the tip, where a plume of dark fluff seemed to sprout. The fluff was still tangled and gunked up with pasta, but the little guy either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Two pointed ears stuck out from the sides of his head, also dark at the tips. Those tiny ears were laid back against the little guy’s head, and were twitching rather frantically.

Miniature blue eyes stared back up at Dream, and the pure terror he could see radiating out of them was like a punch to the gut. Dream immediately felt bad for the little thing, and was quick to try and reassure him.

“Hey–” Dream started, but was quickly interrupted by George. "Why were you in my food?" The brunette demanded, stepping closer to the table and leaning over the ceramic cup to see the little creature better. He quailed under George’s gaze, his whole, tiny body trembling as his breath hitched up.

“George, you’re scaring him,” Dream cut in, dropping a hand over the shorter man’s shoulder and gently tugging him away from the mug. Seeing George’s petulant expression looming over him couldn’t have been too nice for the little guy.

“I’m scaring him?” George snapped with a scowl. “Well, I’m not the one who was in the freaking lasagna! I nearly had a heart attack!” He glowered at the tiny ravenette, crossing his arms and straightening up his spine.

"I just…I wanted some cheese, man! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall in!" The voice, quiet and breathless and shaking, was a surprise to both Dream and George, but it was nice to know that the little guy could speak, nice to know that he could understand them.

"Well...here," If all the little guy wanted was some cheese, Dream wasn’t going to just deny him any. That would be mean. The blond snagged a small plate from the clean dish rack and set it on the table, then scooped up a forkful lasagna and plopped it in the center of the new plate. He then reached towards the mug, intent on letting the little dude out so he could get some of the pasta. Before his hand was even close, the tiny man shrieked, throwing himself down to the bottom of the cup and shielding his head with his arms. Dream froze, shooting a concerned glance at George, who shrugged, uncertainly. Wh…why was the little guy so scared? It wasn’t like Dream was going to hurt him.

Dream stooped down a little bit, trying not to loom over the guy’s head so much, and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Hey, it’s alright. You’re alright. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” The ravenette only whined, body shaking as his tiny, tufted, cheese-infused tail curled around his form. Dream frowned, and tried again, slowly reaching out to wrap his hands around the mug. “Do you…I’m going to let you out of the cup now, okay? Then you can have some of George’s lasagna. We’re not going to hurt you, little guy.” He assured again, trying to reiterate that everything would be alright.

Carefully, Dream lifted the mug and slowly tipped it over next to the plate of pasta, wincing guiltily when the tiny man uncurled from his ball with a yelp and tried to scramble back up the side of the mug. He slid out onto the table with barely a sound, and he stumbled backwards until the backs of his thighs met the rim of the plate. He tipped over, arms pinwheeling, but managed to land in a sit on the edge of the ceramic. He froze then, staring up at George and Dream while sucking in short, panting breaths of air.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Dream tried again, a flash of guilt flaring up in his chest. He and George weren’t…really that scary, were they? Dream hoped not. The tiny guy had nothing to fear from them.

While Dream tried to calm the small man down, George turned to one of the cabinets and pulled out a rag. The little ravenette was still caked in pasta, and it had to be annoying. He ran it under the faucet for a good few seconds, then turned back to the dinner table, where he saw that Dream had crouched down to be closer to eye level with the little guy. George set the warm, damp rag next to the tiny ravenette. “Here. So you can get all of that off you.” George offered. The tiny guy flinched away from George’s hand, but then hesitantly took up a corner of the rag and started working through the tangled mess of fluff and pasta at the end of his tail. George winced sympathetically as he sat back down. That looked like it hurt.

“So…do you have a name, dude? Or should we just keep calling you, ‘little guy?” Dream asked, leaning his elbows against the table as he slid into the chair opposite George’s.

“S…Sapnap. I–my name is, is Sapnap.” The little guy offered, his tiny voice nearly a whisper. The two humans very nearly couldn’t hear it, and had to lean a bit closer to hear him properly.

“Were you…did I—were you in the furnace?!” George suddenly blurted, stomach twisting. He would have noticed if there was a tiny man in the pasta when he’d gotten some, wouldn’t he? Like if there was an indent or something, right? Maybe George had missed it. He hoped he had. There was no way the little guy would have survived being baked in the nearly four-hundred degree furnace.

“O-oh. Er, yeah, I was.” He seemed to notice the horrified expression of George’s face, because then he raised his hands and shook them disarmingly. “I–don’t worry, I’m fine! I was, I was born in the nether, I can take a little heat!”

George didn’t look like he fully believed him, and when he glanced at the other human, Dream, he looked mostly concerned, but Sapnap didn’t really care. It’s not like it mattered, right? It…they weren’t planning to stick him back in the furnace, were they? He tugged viciously at a particularly stubborn tangle and winced, pushing most of his thoughts to the backburner. He was alive, he wasn’t hurt, yet, and the humans seemed content to just watch him, for now.

He couldn’t run away as he was right this moment. His bag was still tangled around the pasta-covered fork dozens of inches away, and there was still lasagna all over him, making it harder and harder to move as the cheese started to cool down and congeal. He’d…he’d have to escape later.

Sapnap hoped desperately to End that they weren't going to kill him after all of this. Maybe they just wanted to keep him as a pet…? Even though the thought was so distressing that Sapnap nearly whimpered, it’d be better than being outright killed. At least, if they kept him as a pet, at least he’d have a chance to escape.

Eventually.

#mentioned noms i guess #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #writing #g/t writing #giant!dream #g/t #giant!george #tiny!sapnap #mmm lasagna #anyway now i gotta put this on ao3 which i think is wayyy more toubke than its worth but whatevs #borrower!sapnap #borrower sapnap #o also ive decided that Sapnap's etes will be blue #and will only turn orange when hes really mad #or the other way around? blue is the hottest fire #i could also do brown and just have them go orange #hmmmm imma have to think about this

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georgiapeach30513 · 10 months ago

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Peach, you're the best! Thank you for posting that amazing pasta art! (And thank you to the lovely artist who made it =)) - Mrs Pasta.

That being said...I have a few things to say. No words of wisdom, just some thoughts. Some people will disagree with my takes but if you're here reading it, read it carefully and really consider what I said before you disregard.

Every time something happens that gets a certain portion of fans excited that "it's coming to an end," it is nearly always (99.9) followed by something that completely disputes that hope and gets everyone angry, upset, and riled up. It's time to pick up on the patterns, guys!

Ramen and Soba attended the GG afterparty for Soba's agency but didn't show up for the red carpet or awards show. It's got some people thinking Ramen fell off on the HW hierarchy food chain but people. Please. Let's be honest with ourselves here. Did they not attend because he couldn't get an invite since he's "so irrelevant" now or did they not attend because them trying to act like they know each other in real time, for the camera, would be a feat harder than climbing Mt. Everest? Why else do y'all think Soba attended the GQ event with Cup of Noodles instead? You know, the one where she actually did pose for photos and walk the red carpet? And flash her loaned jewelry and "wedding ring" but refused to speak to reporters because she had nothing to promote? It's giving "a...weird face wife that will never do an interview" XD

Every time something happens that gives another portion of fans the chance to "gloat," something else happens to throw a wrench into the mix. You don't question why only one "director" got a random picture of soba and ramen in the same bowl but nobody else saw them? And they can only be mentioned in a throwaway line by a Condé Nast publication (Vogue, Vanity Fair, GQ) and neither Ramen nor Soba could spring for a stylist this time? Looks like somebody doesn't want to make that red carpet debut...but why not? Aren't y'all married for the 50th time in a year and also expecting for the 20th time in the past two years?

Lastly. Just because Ramen has had a few pitfalls this past year does not mean that suddenly he's dropped to C-D list and that he's completely irrelevant in the industry now. I understand having critical flops can hurt your career. Of course it can. And in fact, I'm sure these pitfalls have hurt him. But remember that just because someone is doing well now doesn't mean they'll always do well, and just because someone is having a rough few years doesn't mean they'll never get a comeback.

I'd also like to close with a reminder to those gloating on about how RDJ is doing better and Ramen is failing in life...RDJ was once a drug addict and ended up in jail. My parents still mention this about him every time they see him on TV....people do remember when the biggest news of his career was him getting arrested. Also, after Endgame? Does anyone remember Doolittle? 15% on rotten tomatoes had people thinking RDJ fell off. And then covid hit and he was just doing his own thing for a few years. Now look at him. Looks like that awards campaigning worked! Because no disrespect, Robert, but your Oppenheimer performance was lukewarm at best. IMO, You deserved it more for Tropic Thunder and I say that as someone who genuinely admires you.

I hope I didn't ruffle any feathers. It's just tiring to see people ignore certain things for the sake of running with a narrative.

Love ya, Peach!

Mrs. Pasta, thank you for gracing us with your presence twice today. I honestly, have nothing to add to this great observation. I was just talking about a lot of these points earlier with some mutual about a certain even with a super shiny watch 🤭 I honestly never thought about equating Katt’s words about weird faced wife that will never give an interview to this 😵‍💫 but your’e on to something there!

Looks like someone reached into the depths of their closet to try and scrounge up a look last week, but what do I know?

Mrs. Pasta, I always look forward to your takes and observations.

@inshelliesworld created some cute little Mrs. Pasta art 😊

#Mrs. Pasta

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sam-loves-seb · 2 years ago

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the fruity four but make it hollywood au (3/x)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

so, nancy moves into steve's old room and completely rearranges the furniture--much to robin's dismay--and paints the walls a different color. she doesn't touch the rest of the apartment, save for putting her shampoo in the shower and her toothbrush in the same holder as robin's.

they don't talk much. at first, they don't even really talk at all. but one night, after nancy comes home half an hour into a date with a takeout box filled with pizza, robin emerges from her bedroom and tentatively asks what happened.

"He didn't really want to know me," nancy shrugs, handing robin a slice. "He just wanted to be my date to my movie premiere next month."

"He said that?"

"He didn't have to."

robin rolls her eys. "Guys suck."

nancy taps her pizza against robin's, like a toast. "Guys suck."

and thus, a friendship was born, over battered hearts and cold pizza. they start talking more, start getting to know each other over late night dinners and early morning call times. they talk, and they laugh, and they have fun in their big apartment just the two of them.

robin thinks it's nice to have another friend, a female friend, a friend who is a girl, and definitely not a girlfriend. just a friend. just--friendly.

until one weekend when nancy's little brother (her real brother, mike, not her on-screen-brother, dustin, who she's still close with today after growing up together on the same show) and little sister fly in to LA to visit some family and they end up staying at nancy and robin's place place. robin doesn't mind, especially with how big nancy smiles when she brings them home from the airport, and mike and holly seem like good kids.

it's all fine until that night, when nancy puts mike in the guest room and holly in her room, that robin starts to feel the vibe shift.

nancy grabs a spare pillow and blanket from the closet and lays them down on their couch, but robin stops her, tells her they can share her bed. tells her no one should have to sleep on the couch.

(even if it is an expensive, ultra comfy couch that both of them fall asleep on regularly. though this point does not get brought up when nancy follows robin to her bedroom wordlessly.)

they stay up for maybe an hour, talking about everything and nothing and staring at the ceiling while they giggle. the clock reads 1am before robin's eyes start to close on their own, and nancy falls asleep in the middle of her sentence.

robin watches her for a while, noting the rise and fall of her chest, the slope of her nose, the way her eyelashes twitch just slightly in her sleep. robin falls asleep watching nancy breathe.

in the morning, when she wakes up and finds the other half of the bed empty, with nancy and holly already up and in the kitchen, robin feels a pang of sadness running through her chest.

then panic.

she shoves those feelings way down deep and blames it on the wine they had with dinner (they had one glass each) and the late hour (they've been on sets later than that) and the whirlwind of a night (they ate pasta and watched a movie with nancy's siblings).

things go back to normal--mostly--and robin and nancy's budding friendship continues to bloom as the weeks go on. nancy finishes shooting a movie--her return to mainstream american media--and robin lands a new contract--a twenty episode horror series that reads good enough to go for two or three seasons, at least--and things are good. great, even.

so why is it that robin feels an overwhelming amount of joy when nancy asks her to do her makeup for her red carpet premiere? like, a truly staggering amount of happiness from something she usually gets paid to do. she doesn't think about it too hard.

"Nancy are you ready yet?" steve yells as he walks into their apartment, his hair perfectly floppy and his tux neatly pressed.

"Almost!" nancy yells back from the bathroom, where robin is putting the finishing touches on her mascara.

nancy's agent told her she needed to find a date for the red carpet, and rather than trying to find someone new to accompany her, nancy asked steve if he'd go with her as friends. her agent was more than happy with that--television's princess showing up on the arm of hollywood's latest heartthrob, hello--and steve agreed, roping nancy into doing the same thing with his movie premiere next month.

(steve and eddie have been living together for three months now, and the tabloids still haven't caught on. once a week their names pop up in an 'unlikely friends' article or an instagram series of hollywood's closest 'bros', whatever the fuck that means. steve and eddie are fine with that for now, keeping their privacy for as long as they can even if half of all sets and stages in hollywood know their a couple by now.)

"Perfect," robin tells her, capping the mascara and setting it to the side with an almost sad smile. she tries to make it meet her eyes

nancy thanks her profusely, even stopping to give her a long, lingering hug--which is unprecedented, for fear of wrinkling her gown, but nancy doesn't seem to care--before grabbing her jacket and meeting steve by the door.

steve kisses robin on the cheek, tells her that eddie's coming over after rehearsal and he's bringing booze. robin makes him promise to bring Chinese food--and nancy--back by midnight. steve laughs, but he says okay.

so, that's how robin ends up on her couch, watching the live stream of the red carpet on her tv, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth with eddie. they drink every time they see steve, or nancy, or steve and nancy, with his hand on her hip and her head on his shoulder.

it's all fake, robin knows it's all fake. well, the romantic undertones are, at least, she knows nancy and steve love each other the way robin loves eddie, or the way robin loves steve--platonic, with a capital P.

so why does it still hurt to watch them walk into the theater hand in hand?

"It sucks," eddie says unprompted, practically reading her mind. "it's not... It doesn't ever really get easier, watching him like that with someone else. Even if it isn't real."

robin swallows thickly, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. "How can you stand it?"

"I don't," eddie tells her, a little bit drunk. he takes another sip of the whiskey. "I just wait for him to come home, wait for him to hold me through the night. He'll tell me that he's mine and no one else's--and I believe him. Every time."

robin falls sideways on the couch, letting her head drop on to eddie's shoulder. he pats her knee in an unspoken understanding.

they stare at the tv until the live stream fades to black, and then for a little while after. they're well and truly drunk by the time steve and nancy get back with Chinese food, and robin goes to bed without taking a single bite.

nancy brings her coffee in bed the next morning, and robin wishes she was just a little less perfect. maybe then, this would be easier.

~~~

("Nancy, you gotta tell her."

"Eddie. No."

"Nancy--"

"Shhh," she shushes him over the fried rice. "She'll hear you."

"She's asleep!"

"I'm with Eddie on this one," steve says around a mouthful of food.

"Stay out of this," nancy tells him, pointing a chopstick at his face.

"Nance," eddie brings his hands together quietly. "I'm like, ninety-five percent sure she feels the same way."

nancy shakes her head at her food, not looking at either of the boys. "I--I can't. I can't risk it, she's..." she laughs sadly at the realization that just dawned on her. "She's my best friend."

steve and eddie share a look over the kung pao chicken, but neither of them says another word.)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | ko-fi

#...anyways #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fruity four hollywood au #fruity four #hollywood au #my ronance posts #ronance fanfic #steddie fanfic #steddie au #ronance au

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spanishskulduggery · 2 years ago

Text

Most Essential Vocabulary #2

Part 2 of Most Essential Vocab, as always I’ll include notes when I think something needs more explaining and I’ll point out regionalisms when I know them.

And if anyone has any alternate words/regionalisms they know of for things, please let me know - it helps me and everyone else too!

...I also REALLY overdid it with the food categories, but it’s pretty much the majority of things you can find in a grocery store, market, or supermarket as far as food... except for more specific things like names of fish (which I don’t always know myself, and isn’t THAT essential unless you go to the fishmonger a lot)

Occupations [Los Oficios]

I’ll be including the male and female forms of things - anything with just one form is unisex

Note: Pretty much anything with -ista in it is unisex, even if it ends in A; as an example el artista or la artista.

trabajador, trabajadora = worker [n] trabajador(a) = hard-working [adj]

abogado, abogada = lawyer abogado/a defensor(a) / la defensa = defense lawyer / defense fiscal / abogado/a de la acusación = prosecutor [generally in a trial it’s the abogado/a “attorney/lawyer” or la defensa as a general term, and then you have el/la fiscal “prosecutor”... who is also technically abogado/a but a different function]

doctor, doctora = doctor

médico, médica = doctor [specifically medicine]

maestro, maestra = teacher [lit. “master”; it is often used with teachers that cover multiple subjects and pre-college/university... usually a maestro/a tends to teach younger children, or they’re a “master” or “teacher” in martial arts or music]

el profesor, la profesora = professor [more common in university and for people who are more experts or who have specialized learning degrees]

hombre de negocios, mujer de negocios = businessman/businesswoman

artista = artist

músico, música = musician [not to be confused with la música “music” by itself which is a noun]

dentista = dentist

sastre = tailor

albañil = builder, construction worker [lit. “bricklayer”; this is sometimes the word for “mason” and general construction work and those working with stone, brick, or cement]

contratista = contractor

granjero, granjera = farmer

cocinero, cocinera = cook

chef = chef

camarero, camarera = waiter, waitress / server* mesero, mesera = waiter, waitress / server [more Latin America]

panadero, panadera = baker [specifically el pan “bread”]

pastelero, pastelera = baker [specifically cakes or pastry; as la pasta means “dough/pastry” and los pasteles are “cakes”]

carnicero, carnicera = butcher

cazador, cazadora = hunter [la cazadora could also be “huntress” if you’re feeling fancy]

leñador, leñadora = woodcutter / lumberjack, “lumberjill”

mago, maga = magician [or “mage” if you’re playing an RPG; usually mago/a in the real world means someone who does illusions or card tricks etc]

científico, científica = scientist

químico, química = chemist [someone working with chemicals]

farmacéutico, farmacéutica = pharmacist / chemist [UK]

biólogo, bióloga = biologist

pescador, pescadora = fisher

marinero, marinera = sailor

cartero, cartera = postal worker, courier, “mailman” / “mailwoman”

soldado = soldier

atleta = athlete

nadador, nadadora = swimmer

jugador / jugadora (de algo) = player (of something) [in some contexts el juego “game” or jugador, jugadora can be “gambling” and “gambler”]

futbolista = football player / soccer player

beisbolista = baseball player

luchador, luchadora = fighter / wrestler

electricista = electrician

informático, informática = computer tech, IT [internet tech] person [la informática is the general word for “computer sciences” - so anyone who deals with computer things is often called informático/a]

programador, programadora = programmer

plomero, plomera = plumber [Latin America in general] fontanero, fontanera = plumber [Spain and parts of Mexico and Central America] gasiftero, gasfitera = plumber [parts of South America]

técnico, técnica = technician [also sometimes someone who repairs things; it’s not just “tech expert”, it could be very widely applied]

policía = police officer

autor, autora = author

escritor, escritora = writer

dramaturgo, dramaturga = playwright

actor, actriz = actor / actress [sometimes actresses use actor for themselves as a way to distance themselves from the gender of it all; but in general you see actor/actriz and los actores “actors”... saying las actrices specifically refers to “actresses”]

poeta, poetisa = poet [we rarely use “poetess” in English today but it exists]

escultor, escultora = sculpter

pintor, pintora = painter

contable = accountant [I think Spain] contador, contadora = accountant [more Latin America; lit. “counter”]

político, política = politician

juez (sometimes jueza in feminine) = judge

banquero, banquera = banker, bank worker

cajero, cajera = cashier / clerk / teller (at a bank) [cajero/a really means “someone who operates the cash register” but la caja “box” is also applied to la caja fuerte “safe” or “strongbox” so it applies to bank tellers as well; anytime there’s a cash register involved, you’re probably dealing with a cajero/a]

dependiente, dependienta = retail worker, sales clerk

el dueño, la dueña = owner / landlord, landlady

propietario, propietaria = owner, property owner

jefe, jefa = boss

asesor, asesora = consultant

consejero, consejera = advisor, consultant, counselor / councilor (someone serving on a council)

gerente, gerenta = manager manager / mánager = manager

empleado, empleada = employee

*Note: camarero/a by itself is often used as “waiter/waitress” but in some places it means “maid” as in the person who cleans up rooms in a hotel. This is because camarero/a originally meant “chamberlain” related to la cámara “bedroom/chamber” or la cama “bed” - a camarero/a would attend to someone like their personal servant and in older works it meant an adviser or someone who oversaw an important person’s appointments and sometimes coordinated their outfits or oversaw the other staff.

It came to be “waiter/waitress” in inns and hotels and the noble houses where someone might be coordinating your sleeping arrangements and also making sure you were fed, possibly serving you themselves

Today, camarero/a is often your “server” in (I think?) Spain, but in other places they’re the people cleaning up after you at a hotel. To the best of my knowledge, the cleaning crew is typically el criado or la criada “servant” - but often la criada means “maid”, both in history and today............. and outside of Batman you rarely are going to see el mayordomo “butler” used, but just in case, there it is

The term mesero/a is directly related to la mesa “table” so they’re specifically the person bringing things to and from the table which no added meanings. To the best of my knowledge this is more common in Latin America; and your camarero/a is probably the cleaning crew

*Note 2: The word músico/a for “musician” is the umbrella term. Most instruments have their own word and frequently end in -ista... such as pianista “pianist”, flautista “flautist” / “flute player”, or baterista “drummer”, as well as guitarrista “guitar player” and bajista “bass player”

You’ll find more specific terms for specific sports, activities, and other skills. Many end in -ista, and some like martial arts have specific works themselves

el oficio = occupation / job, job title

el puesto = position

el hueco = vacancy [lit. “a hollow/empty spot” or “gap”; can refer to jobs or empty spaces in schedules/calendars, or it can mean “a hollow” of a tree or a “gap” in something]

el trabajo = job / work

la labor = labor, work [used both for working hard and childbirth]

trabajar = to work

laborar / laburar = to work [regional; especially common in South America or Río de la Plata]

el tajo = “work”, “workplace” [I think this is regional; lit. el tajo is “a slice” or “slash”]

la oficina = office

el bufete = firm [usually law firm]

la compañía = company

la empresa = enterprise

el despacho = office (someone’s personal office; usually for teachers or bosses; this is not the “office” you typically work in, this is someone’s private workspace)

Also worth pointing out - somewhat related - that a “doctor’s office” is frequently el consultorio. It’s specifically the place you go to for a consulta “examination” or “medical exam”; so it’s more the actual building. In some places you will see “the doctor’s” referred to as la clínica “clinic” or “doctor’s (office)”; and in some places el hospital although this is very regional as sometimes el hospital or la clínica can carry different connotations of being privately owned or not

Buildings and the City [Los Edificios y la Ciudad]

el edificio = building

el rascacielos = skyscraper [lit. “scratches skies”]

el pueblo = town / population (people)

la aldea = village, small town

la ciudad = city

la calle = street / road

el callejón = alley

el coche, el carro, el auto = car [all are regional, all make perfect sense to everyone but they are regionally preferred - Spain tends towards coche, Latin America in general prefers carro, and parts of South America use auto]

la carretera, la autopista = highway

la acera = sidewalk [semi-related la acera is also used in many expressions related to sexually; ser de la otra acera or ser de la acera de enfrente tend to mean “to play for the other team” as in “to be gay”, and literally they mean “to be from the other sidewalk” or “to be from the opposite sidewalk”]

la escuela = school

el instituto = institute / high school [regional]

el colegio = high school [regional]

la universidad = university, college, academy

el banco = bank [el banco can also be “bench” in some places]

el mercado = market, marketplace

el supermercado, el súper = supermarket

la biblioteca = library

la farmacia = pharmacy la droguería = pharmacy [regional]

el hospital = hospital

la clínica = doctor’s office / clinic

la estación = station la estación de tren = train station la estación de policía / la comisaría = police office

el andén = platform

el ayuntamiento = town hall, city hall

la iglesia = church

el catedral = cathedral

la mezquita = mosque

el templo = temple

la sinagoga = synagogue

el parque = park el parque de diversiones = theme park

el monumento = monument

la galería (de arte) = art gallery

la peluquería = hair salon, hairdresser’s

el bufete = law firm

la oficina = office

la fuente = fountain

la estatua = statue

el aeropuerto = airport

el puerto = port

el barco = ship

el muelle / los muelles = docks, wharf

el autobus, el bus = bus

el taxi = taxi

el restaurante = restaurant

el café = cafe

la granja = farm

la finca, la hacienda = estate / plantation [sometimes “farm” but in the sense of “this is the main house on the farmlands”]

la pastelería = bakery (cakes/sweets)

la panadería = bakery (bread)

el centro comercial = shopping center / mall

la librería = bookstore

el castillo = castle

el palacio = palace

la fábrica = factory

el taller = workshop / art studio

el estadio = stadium

el correo / los correos / la oficina de correos = post office [kinda regional, but el correo is “mail” so it all makes sense regardless]

la tienda = store [la tienda literally means “tent”, so you will see it as la tienda de camping “tent (for camping)” as well; this is because people’s shops used to be outside and covered in awnings or tents, or they could be mobile and they’d set up tents to sell goods]

el almacén = department store [lit. “warehouse”]

el museo = museum

el teatro = theater

el cine = movie theater, “the movies”

el acuario = aquarium

el planetario = planetarium el observatorio = observatory

la torre = tower

la fortaleza = fortress

el portal = gate [or “portal”]

la puerta = door

la ventana = window

el cristal = window [lit. “crystal”, but el cristal is commonly used for “a pane of glass” and “windows” in general; it may also refer to “glass” in general... the other word for “glass” is el vidrio which is sometimes more formal or the material, but el cristal can be the glass part of clocks, watches, compasses, etc]

la casa = house

el hogar = home

In the Kitchen [En la Cocina]

la sal = salt

la pimienta = pepper

el azúcar = sugar

la miel = honey

el agua = water [technically feminine noun]

la grasa = fat

la harina = flour la harina de maíz / la maicena = cornstarch

el ácido = acid

el aceite = oil el aceite de oliva = olive oil el aceite de girasol = sunflower oil el aceite de cártamo = safflower oil el aceite de sésamo = sesame oil el aceite vegetal = vegetable oil el aceite de cacahuete/maní = peanut oil el aceite de coco = coconut oil el aceite de aguacate = avocado oil

el vinagre = vinegar

el huevo = egg

la yema = yolk

la clara (de huevo) = egg white

la tortilla = omelet

[when it’s not the tortillas you see in more Latin American food, a tortilla refers to “omelet”; literally a tortilla refers to “turned/twisted” from torcer, so it originally meant something that was flipped halfway through, or partially folded]

la tortilla de papa / patata = potato omelet [EXTREMELY common dish in Spain] la tortilla española = Spanish tortilla / potato omelet

la tortilla de maíz = corn tortilla la tortilla de harina = flour tortilla

Vegetables [Los Vegetales]

los vegetales = vegetables las verduras = vegetables, greens

la lechuga = lettuce

el tomate = tomato

la zanahoria = carrot

la cebolla = onion

el puerro = leek

el apio = celery

el ajo = garlic el diente de ajo = garlic clove [lit. “tooth of garlic”]

la papa = potato = Latin America la patata = potato [Spain]

(las) papas/patatas fritas = (French) fries / chips [UK] [lit. “fried potatoes”]

la batata = sweet potato el camiote = sweet potato [Central America] el boniato = sweet potato [usually more Rio de la Plata]

la alcachofa = artichoke

la col / el repollo = cabbage

el brócoli = broccoli [has some other regional spellings like brécol or bróculi but generally the same sound-ish]

la coliflor = cauliflower

la col rizada, el repollo rizado = kale [lit. “curly cabbage”] la berza = kale

la calabaza = pumpkin

el calabacín = squash / zucchini / gourd

la berenjena = eggplant, aubergine

el pepino = cucumber

el pimiento = bell pepper [regional]

el chile / el ají = chile pepper

el aguacate = avocado

el hinojo = fennel

la aceituna = olive [regional but the most standard] la oliva = olive [regional]

el hongo = mushroom la seta = mushroom el champiñón = mushroom [all regional but all mostly make sense to everyone else; I believe champiñón is more common in Spain]

el guisante, los guisantes = pea, peas

el nabo = turnip

el rábano = radish

la remolacha = beet el betabel = beet [regional] la betarraga = beet [regional]

la espinaca = spinach

Meat and Fish [La Carne y El Pescado]

la carne = meat / flesh

el pollo = chicken / poultry

el pavo = turkey

el puerco / el cerdo = pork [or “pig”]

el jamón = ham

la salchicha = sausage

el res / (la) vaca = beef [la vaca being “cow”]

la hamburguesa = hamburger

la ternera = veal

el bistec = steak

el lomo (de algo) = loin [usually el lomo de res or el lomo de puerco]

el solomillo = sirloin

el filete = fillet

la albóndiga = meatball [depending on region the exact kind differs, but in general las albóndigas are some kind of meatballs]

el conejo / la liebre = rabbit / hare

la rana = frog

el caracol, los caracoles = snails

el pescado = fish

el bacalao = cod

el salmón = salmon

la platija / el lenguado = flounder

el atún = tuna

la trucha = trout

la pez espada = swordfish

la perca = perch

el esturión = sturgeon

la merluza = hake

el abadejo = pollock

la anguila = eel

la anchoa / el boquerón = anchovy

la sardina = sardine

la almeja = clam

el mejillón = mussel

la ostra = oyster

el calamar = squid

el pulpo = octopus

la vieira = scallop [many regional names here, just saying]

el camarón = shrimp la gamba = prawn, shrimp [both generally mean the same thing, but they are more regional; a gamba is typically bigger in my experience but because they look the same they get used as the same general thing]

el marisco, los mariscos = shellfish, seafood [general term; if you’re being specific, los mariscos mean “anything from the sea”, but if you’re differentiating fish and shellfish you use el pescado for “fish” and los mariscos for “shellfish”]

Dairy [Los Lácteos]

el lácteo, los lácteos = dairy products

la leche = milk

la nata = cream la crema = cream [more or less the same, but some places use one more than the other; everyone understands it though]

el queso = cheese

el yogur = yogurt

la mantequilla = butter la manteca = lard

Starches and Legumes [Los Almidones y Las Legumbres]

el almidón = starch

el maíz = corn

la empanada = empanada / fried dumpling [lit. “covered in bread”, so it can be many things that are covered in dough; I’ve even seen “pot pie” called empanada]

el pan = bread la hogaza = loaf (of bread)

la miga / la migaja = breadcrumb

el trigo = wheat

la avena = oat

los cereales = cereal / grains

el arroz = rice

la pasta = pasta [sometimes “dough”]

el espagueti, los espaguetis = spaghetti

el ñoqui = gnocci

la lasaña = lasagna

los fideos = noodles

la legumbre, las legumbres = legumes

la lenteja, las lentejas = lentils

el frijol, los frijoles = beans la habichuela, las habichuelas = beans la alubia, las alubias = beans la judía, las judías = beans [they all kind of mean “beans”, it’s all regional but frijoles makes me think of Mexico or some parts of Latin America; typically they add a color to specify... so you might see las judías OR las habichuelas verdes for “green beans”, or you might see las habichuelas rojas or los frijoles rojos for “red beans” or “kidney beans”; everyone mostly knows what you’re talking about, don’t worry]

Fruits [Las Frutas]

la fruta = fruit

la manzana = apple

la naranja = orange la mandarina = Mandarin oranges / oranges

el melocotón = peach [Spain] el durazno = peach [Latin America]

la cereza = cherry

el coco = coconut

la piña = pineapple

el albaricoque = apricot [Spain] el damasco = apricot [Latin America] el chabacano = apricot [Mexico]

la uva = grape

la toronja = grapefruit

la fresa = strawberry [in general] la frutilla = strawberry [in some countries; fresa in some countries can be “posh” or “rich”]

la frambuesa = raspberry

la mora = mulberry / blueberry [sometimes la mora azul]

el arándano (azul) = blueberry

el arándano rojo = cranberry

la baya = berry

el higo = fig

el dátil = date

el melón = melon

la sandía = watermelon

la ciruela = plum la ciruela pasa = prune

la pasa, las pasas = raisins [la pasa can refer to any kind of dried fruit, usually it’s “raisins” meaning la uva pasa “raisins” from grapes, or la ciruela pasa “prune” from plums]

el limón = lemon

la lima = lime [sometimes it’s limón for “lime”; it’s very confusing and regional]

la banana = banana el banano = banana [regional; sometimes “banana tree”]

el plátano = plantain / banana [regional]

Nuts [Los Frutos Secos]

los frutos secos = nuts [lit. “dry yieldings”; where fruto as “fruit” refers to anything that a plant produces or “bears”]

el maní / el cacahuete = peanut

la castaña = chestnut

la nuez = walnut

el pistacho = pistachio

el anarcado / la castaña de cajú = cashew

la almendra = almond

la avellana = hazelnut

la semilla = seed

la semilla de girasol = sunflower seed

la semilla de calabaza = pumpkin seed la pipa = pumpkin seed [Spain; la pipa is just “pip” or “seed”] la pepita = pumpkin seed [Mexico; it’s a specific type, but in general la pepita can be a pumpkin seed or a small seed]

la mantequilla/crema de (algo) = butter (of some kind) la mantequilla/crema de cacahuete/maní = peanut butter la mantequilla/crema de almendra = almond butter

Herbs and Spices [Las Hierbas y Las Especias]

la hierba = herb [or “grass”]

la hoja = leaf

el tallo = stem, stalk

la albahaca = basil

el laurel, la hoja de laurel = bay leaf, laurel

el perejil = parsley

el orégano = oregano

la salvia = sage

el romero = rosemary

el tomillo = thyme

el eneldo = dill

el cilantro = cilantro / coriander

la especia = spice

la corteza = bark (of a tree) / crust (of bread/cake)

la raíz = root

la canela = cinnamon

el jengibre = ginger

el clavo = clove [or “nail” or “hoof” in general]

la pimienta = pepper (spice)

la pimienta de Jamaica = allspice [lit. “Jamaica pepper”]

el cardamomo = cardamom

la cúrcuma = turmeric

la nuez moscada = nutmeg

el cilantro = coriander / cilantro

la (semilla de) mostaza = mustard (seed)

molido/a = ground en polvo = ground [lit. “in dust (form)”]

el polvo de ajo = garlic powder el polvo de cebolla = onion powder el polvo de chile/ají = chili powder el polvo de curry = curry powder

la paprika = paprika [often the Hungarian sweet kind] el pimentón = paprika [often the spicy Spanish kind, commonly the spice for chorizo, but pimentón can also be used for “bell pepper” in some places]

la sal = salt la sal marina = seasalt la sal en escamas = flakey salt [lit. “salt in scales”; the escamas are “scales” for fish or reptiles, but en escamas is often the term for “flaked” or “flakey”]

Other Things [Otras Cosas]

el condimento = condiment

la mayonesa = mayonnaise

el ketchup, el catsup = ketchup

la mostaza = mustard

la salsa = sauce / salsa la salsa de tomate = tomato sauce la salsa béchamel / el béchamel = bechamel sauce, cream sauce la salsa de soja = soy sauce

la soja = soy

el vino = wine el vino tinto = red wine el vino blanco = white wine

el jerez = sherry

la cerveza = beer / ale

la mezcla = mix, mixture

la vinagreta = vinaigrette / salad dressing el aderezo (de ensalada) / el arreglo (de ensalada) = salad dressing [el aderezo may also mean “condiments” or “fixings” for other foods, but specifically for salads it’s “dressing”]

el puré = puree / mash, “mashed” / blended (el) puré de papa/patata = mashed potatoes (el) puré de manzana = applesauce [also la compota de manzana which is “apple compote”] (el) puré de calabaza = pumpkin puree, mashed pumpkin

endulzado/a = sweetened

enchilado/a = covered in chiles, covered in a spicy sauce

batido/a = whipped / creamed / scrambled [batir means “to strike” like “to slap”, or “to hit”; it could also be “stirred” and you may see it used along with agitado/a “stirred” or “shaken”]

relleno/a = stuffed el relleno = stuffing / filling

en escabeche = marinated / brined, in brine en salmuera = brined, in brine [el escabeche is “marinade” or “pickling juice”, la salmuera is literally “brine” as in related to salt water]

hervido/a = boiled

adobado/a = marinaded (meat usually), covered in spices / spice rubbed [el adobo can mean a few things but it’s often a spice mix of some kind, sometimes a brine or marinade]

frito/a = fried

horneado/a = baked (in the oven) [from el horno “oven”, but hornear is “to bake” or generally “to use the oven”]

al vapor = steamed [lit. “(cooked) in steam”]

asado/a = roasted / baked

tostado/a = toasted

dorado/a = browned [lit. “made golden” from dorar “to gild” or “to coat in gold”, but in cooking it means “to brown”]

estofado/a = stewed, simmered

al horno = oven-baked [or al forno for Italian things]

encurtido/a = pickled los pepinos encurtidos = pickles [lit. “pickled cucumbers”]

el curtido = ceviche / slaw [generally it depends, but a curtido is some kind of sour marinated dish, and it can be vegetables like “coleslaw” OR it could be some kind of ceviche; if you see a curtido just know it is generally acidic or pickled]

la milanesa = breaded cutlet [anything milanesa refers to something breaded and fried; la milanesa de pollo is “breaded chicken cutlet”, la milanesa de res is “breaded beef cutlet” etc]

el sándwich = sandwich [standard I think (?); sometimes it has alternate spellings/pronunciations]

el bocadillo = sandwich [Spain usually, specifically on a long piece of bread like a baguette; for everyone else this is “mouthful” usually] la torta = sandwich [Mexico, specifically on a round roll] el emparedado = sandwich [I think mostly Spain; it literally means “between walls”]

la masa = dough

el pastel = cake [regional] la torta = cake [in Mexico a torta is a type of sandwich]

la tarta = tart, pie / cake [regional]

la galleta = cookie la galleta salada = cracker [lit. “salted gallete”]

la tostada = toast (a piece of toast)

glaseado/a = frosted/iced

el glaseado = frosting/icing la escarcha = frosting/icing [lit. “frost”] [you may also see la cobertura “topping” OR el baño “bath” as frosting or icing, it all depends]

la confitura = jam, jelly, compote, preserves la confitura de (algo) = (something) confit/compote/preserves

la jalea = jelly

la mermelada = jam, jelly, preserves, marmalade

la crema batida = whipped cream

el dulce, los dulces = sweet thing, sweets / possibly candy

la gomita = gummy candy

la golosina = candy [in general; kind of like the category like “confection”; all candies are golosinas really]

el chocolate = chocolate

la vainilla = vanilla

el helado = ice cream

dulce = sweet

agrio/a = sour, bitter ácido/a = sour, tart

amargo = bitter, sour

agridulce = bittersweet, sweet and sour

salado/a = salty, salted

picante = spicy [sometimes picoso/a or enchiloso/a though enchiloso/a to me implies a chile]

duro/a = hard

blando/a = soft

suave = smooth

espeso/a = thick [mixtures]

crujiente = crunchy

grasoso/a = greasy

aceitoso/a = oily

empalagoso/a, empalagante = cloyingly sweet, sickly sweet

seco/a = dry

mojado/a = wet empapado/a = soaked, wet

el sabor = taste

crudo/a = raw

cocido/a = cooked bien cocido/a = “well done” [for steaks]

Beverages [Las Bebidas]

la bebida = beverage, drink

el café = coffee

el tueste = roast [for coffee] el tueste claro = light roast coffee el tueste oscuro = dark roast tostado/a = roasted/toasted

el té = tea el té negro = black tea el té verde = green tea el té helado = iced tea

el té (de algo) = (some kind of) tea el té de manzanilla = chamomile tea el té de hierbas / el té herbal = herbal tea

el alcohol = alcohol

el trago = a shot (of alcohol)

(andar/salir) de copas = to go out drinking [la copa is “wine glass”, related to the word “goblet”, so de copas is “out drinking” in a way]

el vaso (de agua) = glass (of water)

la taza (de té/café) = cup/mug (of tea/coffee) / teacup or coffee cup/mug

la copa = glass (of wine)

el refresco = soda [regional] la gaseosa = soda [regional] la bebida gaseosa = soft drink

la soda = soda [can also be “seltzer water” or “club soda”]

con gas = carbonated, “sparkling” [lit. “with gas” sin gas = uncarbonated, “flat”

la cidra = cider

el vino = wine el vino tinto = red wine el vino blanco = white wine

el champán = champagne

la cerveza = beer la caña = draft beer [at least in Spain; idk about everywhere else; lit. caña is “reed” or “tube” so it means it comes from a keg or spigot or something is “on tap”]

el ron = rum

la ginebra = gin

el vodka = vodka

el whiskey, el whisky = whiskey el (whiskey) escocés = scotch [lit. “Scottish (whiskey)”]

la limonada = lemonade

el zumo = juice [Spain] el jugo = juice [Latin America, usually]*

la pulpa = pulp sin pulpa = no pulp

el hielo = ice con hielo = with ice sin hielo = without ice sobre hielo = on ice / over ice / “on the rocks”

mezclado/a = mixed

*el jugo is used sometimes in Spain, often with “meat juices” and jugoso/a is still “juicy” in many countries, but it’s more common in Spain for fruit juices to be zumo... whether it’s zumo de naranja “orange juice” or zumo de manzana “apple juice” etc

Some common drinks to know: la sangría is “sangria” [lit. “bloodletting” related to la sangre “blood”] which is wine with fruit. Since sangria can be kind of touristy, some places tend to have tinto de verano “summer red wine” which is often cheap red wine and some kind of fruit soda like sparkling lemonade or orange soda. Another common one is la clara which is beer and sparkling lemonade [I think close to a “shandy” in English though lord knows I rarely call it that]

Meals [Las Comidas]

el aperitivo = appetizer

las tapas = tapas, appetizers [typically more of a Spain thing]

el plato fuerte = main dish, entree [lit. “strong dish”] el plato principal = main dish, entree

la ensalada = salad

la sopa = soup

el caldo = broth

el estofado = stew

el desayuno = breakfast [standard, but also sometimes regional where desayuno might be very early or more sweet]

la comida = lunch / meal [in general] el almuerzo = lunch [US/UK; for most other places it’s a midmorning meal]

la merienda = snack / teatime, high tea

la cena = dinner

el postre = dessert

la comida ligera = light meal

la comida basura = junk food

There’s so much to say about eating schedules in Spanish vs English but really your experience will be different depending on if the country has a siesta culture. Just know many of the words can be HIGHLY regional

In most Spanish-speaking countries la comida is “lunch” [lit. “food”]; but in the US we typically say el almuerzo as a meal that happens at noon. Depending on where you are your entire eating schedule is different but in the US we have three meals - el desayuno, el almuerzo, la cena. Your exact meal schedule will depend on the country you’re in

¡Buen provecho! = Bon Appetit, “Dig In” [said before eating]

¡Salud! = Cheers! [lit. “health”, said before drinking during a toast] ¡Chin-chin! = Cheers! [a less formal toast, it’s literally the sound of glasses clinking together so it implies everyone sort of touches their glasses before drinking; chin-chin is often said with salud at these times so you’ll probably hear them both at the same time at an informal party/occasion]

la sobremesa = “dinner conversation” [a culture concept; la sobremesa literally is “above table” but it’s the word for talking and hanging out with friends and family over a meal, sort of like chitchat or conversation... it’s the act of growing closer “at the table”]

School Subjects [Las Materias]

la escuela = school

la tarea = homework / task

la materia = school subject

las matemáticas (mate / las mates) = mathematics, math

el álgebra = algebra [technically feminine]

la geometría = geometry

el cálculo = calculus [or “calculations”, it can be used like “I did the math” or “I ran the numbers”... that’s cálculo too]

la ciencia = science

la biología = biology

la química = chemistry

la física = physics

la informática = computer sciences, IT

la historia = history

la geografía = geography

los estudios sociales = social studies

las bellas artes = fine arts [arte is typically masculine, but in certain contexts it’s feminine - usually for las bellas artes or las artes marciales “martial arts”]

la literatura = literature

la escritura = writing / creative writing la narrativa = writing / creative writing [la narrativa means “narrative” but also could mean “storycraft”, as in one’s ability to write/tell a story]

el arte = art

la música = music

el drama = drama, theater [masculine] el teatro = theater (place and a subject)

el idioma = language [masculine] la lengua = language [lit. “tongue”]

la lengua y literatura = language arts [lit. “language and literature”] las artes del lenguaje = language arts

la poesía = poetry

la comunicación = communication

la traducción = translation

la psicología = psychology [sometimes it’s written as sicología without the P; they’re both correct, but psicología is more common]

la sociología = sociology

la medicina = medicine

el Derecho = Law [often capitalized; by itself el derecho means “a right”]

la contabilidad = accounting

la enseñanza = teaching

la educación físicia = physical education, PE / gym

la gimnasia = gym [it also is “gymnastics”, or basic “physical exercise”]

el deporte / los deportes = sport / sports

el atletismo = track and field / athletics [sometimes “track and field” is (la) pista y (el) campo but pista y campo might also be el atletismo]

(el) tiro al blanco = archery / darts [lit. “the act of shooting at the target”, but el tiro “shooting” can also refer to guns as well]

la esgrima = fencing

la natación = swimming [the noun, not the verb]

Many sports-related things are influenced by Greek traditions - la gimnasia as “gym” or “physical exercise” or “gymnastics” literally means “things pertaining to the gymnasium” which is where people would work out or play certain sports or exercise. And similarly el atletismo means “track and field” because it referred to the kind of sports professional athletes practiced in Greece or practiced for the Olympics... specifically the ones that used to be done outside, such as el maratón “marathon”, running, etc. Obviously we don’t have the discus or horseracing in most schools, but the Greek influence is there. And because el atleta means “athlete”, el atlestismo also refers to “athletics” in general

#Spanish #langblr #spanish vocabulary #language learning #learn Spanish #vocabulario #learning spanish #so much vocab #ref #long post

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