#getting ready to make tamales!!! 🫔 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

princessdimondheart · 1 year ago

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Hot Tamales | Ghost x Canis! OC + TF-141 + Los Vaqueros

Pairing: Ghost x f! OC

Warnings: language, the bois simp for food

Edited: No

A/N: A little post for Hispanic Heritage Month, a day after it ‘ended,’ but it’s always Hispanic Heritage Month for me lol. My mom and I made tamales a few weeks back and that kinda inspired this. I know it’s not what you’re expecting that I update but I wanted to get this posted even though it’s late. This could be considered part of the It’s The Dog series but as a separate one shot. Canis is Mexican but it can be read as any Latina Reader.

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Character banner ©️ Me

🫔.

For the last day or so, Johnny not Ghost could find Canis and both were beginning to get a bit worried. So, Johnny asked around the base they were on if anyone had seen her. No luck until one of Alejandro’s Corporals said that she had been in the mess’ kitchen. Quickly sending a text to Ghost, Johnny made his way to the mess hall.

An incredible aroma came from the large room the closer down the hall he went. Ghost was already standing at the doors waiting for him.

“Ah, that smells so good L.t.” He grinned at the taller man.

“Very good.” Ghost replied, shockingly in approval.

Johnny was just about to push the doors open when a loud bang sounded from down the hall. It was Alejandro and Rudy.

“Te dije, Rudy! The smell is coming from here!” The Colonel shouted. “Mmm… tengo hambre.”

“You were right, Ale. But who’s making them?” The two men jogged to where Soap and Ghost were standing.

“You know what’s goin’ on, Alejandro?” Johnny questioned. “It smells really good! What is it?”

“No idea, amigo! Those are tamales!” He shook Johnny’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried tamales before?”

Johnny shook his head and when Alejandro looked at Ghost, he also denied ever having them. Both Mexicans shook their heads.

“Oh, you’re missing out!” Rudy looked at them with pity.

“It’s only one of the finest dishes Mexican cuisine has to offer.” Ale added. “You’re in for a treat!”

They finally head in and see that a decent sized crowd had formed around the kitchen doorway. Many of them were practically drooling at the delicious smell. They made their way through the crowd and inside they saw Canis.

Rudy called out to her first, “Canis! You’re the one making tamales?”

She turned around at his voice. “Rudy, sí. I’ve been prepping since yesterday and now the tamales are steaming. I think they’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Think you boys can wait?”

Canis was wearing an apron that had the Los Vaqueros logo on the front. Earlier that day, she decided she would make one with the 141’s logo on it. It was stained with mole, pork, and masa. There was a very large pot behind her on the stove filled to the brim with tamales. The food station was relatively clean after the mess she had made the previous day and that morning. She’d taken the time to put everything away and clean up. Although, there were still some corn husks left on the table.

“Of course we can wait, lass!” Johnny called out from behind Ghost. Whose body took up much of the doorway.

Then the group had the others waiting around go to sit at the tables while they waited for the tamales to finish cooking. When the ten minutes were up, the mess staff helped Canis distribute the tamales to the voraciously hungry soldiers and staff. They thought that the tamales would be gone by then but out came Canis with a large warming platter filled with tamales.

“I saved a bunch for you guys, and there’s more in the freezer to be steamed later on.” Canis smiled at them, placing the platter of tamales onto the table. She gestured to the food. “Go ahead.”

Alejandro and Rudy were quick to place a hot tamale on their plates. They were not as careful to spread apart the corn husks and dug into the steaming meal.

“Ah-Ah!” The two sucked in air to their mouths to cool off their burning tongues.

Canis shook her head at the two traviesos. “Con cuidado! You’ll burn your tongues.”

“It tastes better when they’re hot and fresh.” Alejandro panted, still cooling his mouth. Canis rolled her eyes at him.

On the other hand, the Brit and the Scot were going at their food at a much slower pace. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“This is good, Canis.” Ghost looked at her.

“Thank you, Ghost.” She smiled and her cheeks burned. Alejandro cleared his throat.

“If a woman makes you tamales, she’s probably in love with you.” Alejandro smirked at her. The other men whipped their heads to look at her with wide eyes. Ghost squinted at her, an unfamiliar emotion in his dark eyes. Canis’ brow rose in question. “Who on the team have you fallen for, amiga?”

“No one, Alejandro. I just wanted to make some tamales for everyone.” She side-eyed him. “It’s my Abuelita’s recipe. I was feeling a bit homesick so I made these to help cheer me up.”

Ghost hummed while Rudy and Johnny nodded their heads.

“They’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve eaten lots of things, lass.” Johnny complimented.

Canis chuckled. “I’m glad you guys are enjoying it.” She fiddled with her fingers. “I was worried that I’d mess it up or something. I even messaged my Abuelita about a few things.”

“Nothing to worry about Canis! They’re the most delicious tamales I’ve ever had.” Alejandro went to go back to eating but jolted upright. “Don’t tell my mama I said that!”

Canis and Rudy burst out laughing. Johnny grinned at them and Ghost ignored them. He basically inhaled the whole tamale in three bites, and was glancing at the plate of tamales.

Canis noticed.

“Who wants seconds?”

~~~~~

Bonus:

“They remind me of my grandmother’s tamales.” Rudy teared up. “I miss her.”

“Ayy, don’t cry Rudy.” She pat his back. “Here, have another tamale.”

Canis placed another wrapped tamale on his plate before turning back to the stove to finish cleaning up. She didn’t see the glint in his eyes nor the smirk on his lips, but Alejandro did.

“Rudy, you cabrón! That’s your fourth one!”

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@missroro @wobblywolf @animarix @islanderr @sae1kie @abbiesxox @frazie99 @undercover-smutlover

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socalwriterbee · 2 years ago

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Something New

This story came from a lovely ask and conversation with a dear friend. Thank you so much @txemrn for the idea to this Holiday treat with our favorite twins!

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Marie Castro (MC), Mason Dalton and Mickey Dalton. Appearances by Carter and Sam Dalton

Rating: Fluff

Word Count: ~3700

Summary: Marie wants to bring a bit of home and the memory of her mother to Sam and the boys with a traditional Christmas dinner she grew up with. Marie gets to chance to show Mason and Mickey how to make tamales. What could go wrong?

A/N: This story came from an ask for a holiday treat. You can find the ask here.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

🫔🎄🫔🎄🫔

“Thank you for all your help” I tell Carter as I place the heavy bag of ingredients onto the counter of the kitchen island. “Who would have thought it’d be a bit further to find everything that is needed.”

“I sure didn’t Miss Castro.” Carter replies as he follows behind me with the rest of the bags. “Are you certain you don’t need any help with this?”

Looking up from removing the items from the bags, I see Carter placing the remaining bags with the others. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Doing this takes me back home. I can’t believe it has taken me this long to think to share it with Sam and the boys.”

“To be fair Miss Castro, the boys and Mr. Dalton are traditional in a sense. Even when Mr. Castro comes, the Daltons have everything planned and ready. Our traditions get swept to the side, of course unintentional.” He chuckles. “And I don’t mind at all, I do have a few hours to spare.”

“Well, I hope to change that. Even if it needs to be done before or after the holiday they’ve known all their lives. We’d compromise on it, switch it up every year, fair enough right?” Smiling warmly at him but I shake my head at his offer. “Use those hours to unwind and relax before we have to pick up Mason and Mickey and Carter—.”

“Yes?” He gives me a questioning look.

“Please call me Marie, I would like to think after a couple years knowing each other we’d be friends.”

“Of course Miss— Marie.” Carter tips his black hat. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He says before turning on his heel and walking out of the kitchen.

After taking out all the ingredients out, they lay in front of me. The dry corn husks, waiting to be rehydrated. The dark green of the jalapeños, tomatillos, garlic and onion for the green salsa sitting next to my mothers secret to her delicious red salsa, she would make only for this.

The words I said to Carter coming back to me, I really couldn’t believe that it has taken me this long to show Sam and the boys a part of who I am and what both of my parents instilled in me of our family tradition during the holiday. And about the only one that stuck with my mother from being raised in her type Mexican household.

The images of my mother around the kitchen getting our Christmas dinner ready come to mind as I unwrap the butchers paper that contains the meat for the filling.

How she and my father would be talking of how many family members were expected that year and if we had gotten enough to feed everyone. Yes, there had always more than enough and how they would remind each other that the following year they’d get the original amount they always said they would.

That never happened.

I could hear my mother’s voice in the kitchen of our family home, ‘Mija, remember we cook the meat first because it takes the longest. Once we get that on the stove, we need hot water to soak the corn husks to make them soft so they can be folded.’

As I have the first two steps going, the bubbling pot of pork, onion and garlic on the stove and steam coming off the soaking corn husks. I turn my attention to the two salsas that need to be made. Plucking out the stems from the jalapeños, I throw them into another awaiting pot. Biting my bottom lip I debate if I should keep it at two or test my luck and go with three hoping that it won’t come out spicy. I go with my gut and toss in that extra jalapeño. After peeling the papery husk from the green tomatillos they go in with the jalapeños and a piece of onion. Covered with enough water, onto the stove they go.

‘Now Marie Isabel. The red salsa is my little secret. Nothing fancy, no three or four dried chiles rehydrated going into a blender with seasonings and such. When it’s made like that the masa tends to absorb the moisture from it and they became dry. And nothing is worse than a dry tamale, ask your father he almost choked on Tia Lupe’s tamales one year.’

My preteen self laughing at the image my mother had set up for me as she moves about the kitchen getting ready to show me her secret. With a can opener in hand, I open the can of tomato sauce, a can of the Mexican spicy tomato sauce. Emptied into the blender with the rehydrated red chile.

‘But mom I thought you said no dry chiles?’

‘This Marie is mostly for color. It’s gonna give flavor of course but it’s that nice red color it’ll give us in the end too.’

I had just nodded as everything my mother was showing me, sinking in so that one day I could make them and share a piece of my family with a family of my own.

As the minutes turn to an hour going into two, the tamale station I’ve set up is waiting and ready to go. When Carter walks into the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here M..Marie.”

“Thank you but they are not even cooked, heck they aren’t even spread, filled and folded yet! But I do have two forks at the ready for you to try both fillings.” I grin at him, holding up the two forks in my hand. “And be honest tell me what you think.”

Handing them over to Carter, I begin to remove my apron. I checked the time on my watch and it was time for us to collect the boys from their grandparents. As I’m placing the apron over one of the chairs, I hear a small oh my slip from Carter.

“This is incredible. Your mother would be proud, she has taught you well. In this,” He points to the red and green filling. “And in life.”

My eyes glisten at Carters spoken words. “Thank you, that is very sweet of you. Your are going to make me cry. But I assume you have come to get me so we can pick up the twins?”

“Yes and no. I’ve come to let you know I was off to pick up Mason and Mickey and we’d be home shortly after.”

“Are you sure? I could come along to get them, everything here is ready for the next step.”

“Which is an intensive and laboring step. If I go, it will give you time to get something done before they boys arrive.”

Carter was right about that. It would allow me to get some of the tamales ready before Mason and Mickey came home. And knowing the boys well enough, they would like to know and then learn how to make them or see what kind of prank they could pull off with this. It would be a mix of both for sure. “Ok. I’ll stay and get a step ahead.”

“See you shortly Miss Castro.” He calls out.

“Carter!”

“On the clock Miss. On the clock.” He chuckles.

I drop my and shake my head and laugh. You win some you lose some. Grabbing from the drawer my weapon of choice, the spoon, to take down the five pounds of masa that was purchased and begin to slowly make a small dent.

With a small part of the counter space covered with corn husk and masa spread on them, I hear the chime of the elevator announce it’s arrival. Followed closely by two pairs of feet hitting the floor as they run through the penthouse.

“Marie! Marie! You’ll never guess what Grandpa let us do.” Mickey says as his running comes into a halt and eyes everything on the counter, his eyes growing big with awe.

“Yeah, Marie you’ll never—.” Mason follows, bumping into his brother.

“Hey!” Mickey calls out to Mason.

“Sorry.” Mason turns his attention from his brother to me and what’s before us. His eyes widen under his glasses just like his brother.

“What is this?” Mickey steps closer and pokes the end of the husk with his finger.

“And this.” Mason points to the bowl holding the masa.

“This.” I hold up to them. “Is a corn husk and that is masa.”

Both boys turn their head to the side. “What is it for?” They ask in unison.

“I’m using it to make tamales. A traditional food my family made during the holidays. One I’d love to share with you.”

“Oh. We learned about different culture traditions in school before break. Is it something like that?” Mason asks.

“Yes. The two of you came running to tell me something you two did with Grandpa Mason, what was it?” I ask them as I go back to spreading the smooth masa on to the husk. Two sets of eyes watching with amazement as I finish in a few strokes and place it with the others.

“Can we try?” Mickey asks, his voice a whisper.

“You want to learn how to make them?”

They both nod.

“I’d be happy to show you. When I was a bit older than you two are now my mom taught me how to make them.” I smile at them. “Wash your hands and while you do that you two tell me what you did at grandma and grandpa’s house.”

Mason and Mickey both rush to the sink when Mickey turns towards me. “I’ll tell you later. Right now we want to play—make that.”

“Nice save Mick.” I laugh.

After the boys wash and dry their hands, they take a seat. “Do we get a spoon to?” Mason asks. “And why a spoon?”

Opening the drawer the holds the utensil, I pull out two spoons and hand each of them a spoon. “A spoon for each of you and I don’t know, it’s what my mom used and it’s the way she showed me.”

“What is ma-sa?” Mickey asks as he tries to pronounce the word.

“Hmm…” I ponder. “Best way to explain it would be a dough made from corn. This—.” I tap the bowl that contains the dough for the boys to know what I am explaining to them. “was already prepared. So I could have used it as is or as my mom taught me she’d add a little more ingredients to it to make it the way she liked.”

Mickey goes for an overly filled spoonful of the mix. “What do we do with it? We just plop it on the husk?”

I smile as I watch Mason copy his brother and fill his spoon as well. “No, no plopping. And less dough. We need a good balance of masa to filling. Before we get our spoons full, we need to have a corn husk to put it on.”

The three of us go to reach for one, and each on grabbing one of different a size. Mickey has gotten a large husk, smooth, prefect really. Mason has a smaller one that is a bit more crinkled, going to smooth it out when he pulls it rips.

Mason eyes widening as if he did something wrong, reminding of myself when I tried to the same thing when I was first learning. “That was an accident Marie. I didn’t know it was going to rip. I’ve ruined it.”

“Oh no Mason, sweetie. You didn’t ruin it, not at all. Here take mine.” I hand mine over to him and grab his two pieces now. “We still could use it, to cover the tamales when they are steaming.”

Grabbing another husk for myself, I grab a spoonful of the masa, showing the boys the amount I got and place it in the middle of the husk. “Ok, so now you both get about the same amount I did and place it on your husk.”

Watching as they reach and grab their spoons and copy me. Mason and Mickey both look up when they have done the first step. I smile at them before moving on. “So now with the back of our spoon we are going to thin it out the masa over the husk.” Slowly gliding the spoon and mix from one end to the other and down to the straight edge, giving the boys a clear view of my movements. “ We need to leave the end that sticks up clear, we don’t want any masa there because when we fill it that end will be folded over.”

“Now you try.” Watching as they begin to spread the masa on the husk.

“That’s good you two.” I encourage them to keep going.

“Marie! I got it on my hand.” Mason shows his brother and me. “It feels so cool. You should try it Mickey.”

“Look at mine. Did I do a good job?” Mickey asks.

Eyeing the beginnings of his tamale, I bite the bottom of my lip to fight back a smile but unable to hold it in at seeing what and amazing job he has done. “Such a good job Mickey.”

“You’re right Mason, it is sticky. Do you think we could get it to stick on the ceiling? Or we can get it to explode mixing it with cola and baking soda.” Mickey plays with the masa between his thumb and finger.

“We should totally try it.” Mason answers.

“We will not be doing that. We could come up with another experiment for you to try and no more honey in the shampoo either.”

They both laugh at the latest and most often used prank.

“Now lets get to work. We have all that to spread.” I tell them, pointing back to the mixing bowl.

After spending a good portion of the rest of our afternoon laughing and me going back to give their tamales a bit more evenness, laughing and talking about my life in California.

Seeing the boys being covered up with more masa on their shirt and not the corn husk and not knowing how they got it in their hair. The excitement of making something new beginning to wear off.

“Guess I got a bit more than needed.” The three of us stare at the counter covered with a mix of red and green tamales.

“We have a lot.” Mickey says. “What are we going to do with all of them.”

“Well it’s special when these are made, typically around the Christmas season. My mom and dad would tell me that we make them to share with loved ones. Everyone gathering around, like we did, it brings the entire family together talking, laughing just catching up on everything everyone has been up to. We would even make more to share with our neighbors and share the dishes from where our family came from.”

“I have an idea.” Mason speaks up, the spark coming back to his gray eyes. “We could go around and take some to Uncle Robin, Grandma and Grandpa, our friends from school and even Aunt Sofia. We know she could use some cheering up from being grumpy all the time.”

“Yeah. We would be sharing something we made with the people that we love.”

“I think that is a great idea. I’ll make a deal with you two. I will finish up, get these cooking and clean up the kitchen. While you two get cleaned up and changed, pick up your room. And in no time we would have tamales to eat and deliver.”

“How long would that take?” Mason asks.

“They should be ready in an hour and a half. I’ll set a timer for you and it will let us know when to come check on them. Do we have a deal?” I stick out my hand towards them. Watching as the look at each other, their twin connection coming into play before Mickey takes my hand and shakes it, followed by Mickey.

“Deal.” They both say. Hurrying off their chairs and running upstairs.

*****

The beeping of the timer rings through the penthouse. Mason and Mickey running out of their room and into mine and Sam’s ready to check out the tamales we had made.

“They’re ready. Let’s go!” They run out and down the stairs full of excitement.

Following behind them, when the three of us reach the kitchen Mason goes to turn off the timer. Both boys taking a seat waiting for me to present them with what we’ve made. Removing and placing one green and a red tamale on a plate.

“It’s going to be soft.” I explain to them. “So we have to let it cool a bit so it can firm up. And boys they look incredible. You did an amazing job.”

“Let us see, let us see!” Mickey jumps in his seat.

“Here they are. What do you think?” I smile at them.

My mother’s recipe, a fond and one of the best memories of my past and a tradition I love, sit in front of two boys who had captivated my heart the moment I saw them with awe and excitement in their eyes, waiting to try what they had a hand in making.

“It smells so good.” Mason says. “Can we try them now?”

“Just a few minutes and then we can. I’m going to take more out of the steamer. Your dad should be getting here soon and we all can have dinner and then go off on our deliveries.”

Turning back to the pots and removing enough for the boys, Sam, Carter and I to have for dinner. Going us the time needed to try the ones I plated earlier.

“Ready?” I grin at Mason and Mickey.

They both nod.

“Grab your plate, unfold the end piece, the one that is folded in and from there open one side and then the other, just like a present. And voilà we have a tamale to eat.”

The boys follow my directions, cutting off a piece with a fork. Blowing on it to cool it off before popping it into their mouth.

“thisissoooogooooodd!” Mason mumbles.

“yeeeaahsoogooood!” Mickey agrees.

“Let me try.” I reach over and take a piece on my fork. Blowing the piece before the savory taste of the cooked masa hits my lips followed by the tanginess and touch of spice from the green salsa takes over. The whole thing melting in my mouth.

“Try this one Mas—.” Mickey tells his brother before reaching over to Mason’s plate. “I don’t know which one I like the most they are both so good.” He says after trying both.

“Marie, can we call Carter and give him some. He is family and we share with family right?” Mason suggests.

“Of course we do. But I was going to invite Carter to eat with us.” I tell him.

“We can present him with what we helped make and he’d love that, wouldn’t he. Like a present, just like you said.” Mason says.

“You two go get Carter so we can show him and give him what you made.” It fills my heart with much more love for those boys hearing how caring they are of everyone they know. As they leave the kitchen the chime of the elevator rings.

“Hi Dad.” Mason and Mickey call out.

I could hear them tell Sam that they are off to get Carter. Sam’s footsteps echo and get louder the closer he gets to the kitchen. “Smells amazing in here. What have you been doing?” His deep voice calls from the entry way of the kitchen.

Closing the space between us, he takes me in his arms and leans in placing a light kiss on my lips. “Hi.” I whisper against his lips.

Sam’s gray eyes holding my mine with a passion that still burns strong between us. “Hi.” He leans in more and gives me a deeper kiss.

Breaking the kiss, I pull back. “I wanted to make something from home. Mason and Mickey helped.” I tell Sam.

Sam eyes the serving plates. “What did you make?”

“Tamales. One of the many things mom taught me. I thought it would be nice to share and incorporate my traditions here with you and the boys.”

Before Sam could answer Mason and Mickey come running back, pushing Sam and I to get to the serving plate. “Hey!” Sam calls out.

“Sorry Dad but these are for Carter.” Mason says holding a plate while Mickey loads it up. “And after we have to go and deliver to family and friends. Marie already said we could.”

“Do I get any of these?” Sam asks the boys.

“Nope!” Mickey tells him. “We figured it out. Carter gets these. We are taking some to Uncle Robin, Grandma and Grandpa, our friends and Aunt Sofia. After Mason and I eat our share they will be all gone.”

I press my lips together fighting a laugh. Seeing the mock hurt in Sam’s face. I wink at him.

“Sofia gets some and I don’t?”

“Maybe one or Marie can share hers with you. She showed us what she did growing up for the holidays with her mom and dad and how they would share with others even their neighbors and how happy they would be.” Mason tells his dad.

“We liked making them and really happy eating them and Aunt Sofia needs all the holiday cheer she can get.” Mickey adds.

Leaning up and placing my lips close to Sam’s ears. “Don’t worry, I’ll share.”

After all was said and done, in the end Sam, Mickey, Mason, Carter and I passed around the plates piled with steaming tamales from a recipe my mother passed down to me.

The night had turned out to be the one of the best as happiness coursed through me at being able to share a bit of my mothers memory and bring a taste of home to the family I call my own.

#ask turned story #choices the nanny affair #choices tna #tna fanfic #the nanny affair fanfiction #marie castro x sam dalton #mason and mickey

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