#the tamales!

[tkslittlesway]

1x05 Studs - Tarlos deleted scene. @911lonestarrewatch

[gettingscrazy]

DIORA BAIRD as TUESDAY BLACKWELL HOT TAMALE (2006) dir. Michael Damian

[peachesofteal]

Speaking about Ghost/Soap/Darling omegaverse... May I bring the idea of Soap and Ghost being alpha and Darling an omega? But wait, let me sprinkle a little of angsty thoughts about it:

Johnny and Simon get to spend their ruts together. Hell, they share a room, and even on base they get to have privacy and go through them with the help of each other, not only fulfilling their physical needs, which are sated of course, but also emotional. Yeah sure, heats are emotional but ruts are too, and they spend so much time together that almost, if not all of their ruts together have been spent in the company of each other.

But Darling? Imagine Darling having a heat every time she's alone. Simon and Johnny gone on some mission, gone for weeks and sometimes even months. Trying to satisfy herself with whatever smell is left on Simon's hoodie or Johnny's shirt. She tries to brush away the thoughts of loneliness and being left out that arise every time she rests in her nest, every time she has to painfully get through her heats without her mates' company.

Hell, she tries to hide everything every time Johnny and Simon come home, smelling like each other and fresh bite marks on their necks. She really, really tries. But nothing escapes those two, no. They can smell that little, slightly rotten smell on Darling, sensing her discomfort and those bouts of anger flaring up, those hints of desperation hiding in a slightly-rotten fruit smell. It becomes stronger and stronger each time she sees how close they are after they tell her that another rut came while they were on base, and her? At this point she might lie and say she's on suppressants. Again, they at least suspect about it.

But hell, the fact that there are always fresh bite marks on them every time they come home, while hers is is non-existent (Johnny and Simon foolishly believe she doesn't wish to be bitten), is NOT helping at all.

And they realize how drastic, how deep the problem is once their leave coincides with Darling's heat.

Except she hides. She doesn't let them in, because they maybe have never seen her on her heats.

She doesn't trust them to know how to deal with it, how to deal with an omegas' most vulnerable moment when all they've known is how alphas deal with their ruts.

Darling doesn't trust them, not fully, at least.

Djsjjd jfc when you said omegaverse I was 👁️👁️. Peach I hope you're having such a good day and I must thank you once more for giving us such beautiful stories, I hope nothing but good things happen to you from now on:)

— 🫔 Anon

Oh… okay, I see you. This is so good! There’s so much to explore here… 🩵

18+ / dead disco omegaverse au (it needs a name but we’ll get there?) / mature themes

The door swings wide, and Johnny is nearly bowled over by the scent. It’s everywhere in the flat, wafting down the hall to where they both stand at the threshold, overcome with the smell of overripe fruit, something sour and tart hovering at the precipice.

It’s the smell of their omega in distress.

But what surprises them both, is along with the burnt tannins of distress, is another smell. A ripe smell, a bruised stone fruit smell.

The smell of an omega in heat.

But their omega doesn’t have heats. You’re on suppressants.

Still, it’s definitely your scent. There’s no mistaking it.

Simon tenses, hackles rising with a growl. Johnny’s hand finds his chest, placing his palm over the older, bigger alpha’s heart soothingly. They’ve just both come off a rut, poor timing all things considered. Both exhausted, they were looking forward to getting home and falling into bed with you, cuddling you close while they both slept off the stress from the op and the remaining… sensitivities.

“Darling?” Simon calls, keeping his voice soft and easy.

There’s no answer. The flat is silent.

“Love? Are you here?” Johnny tries, pushing through to the bedroom, where he’s half expecting to see you curled up in the bed.

Except, you’re not.

It looks like you may have been, at one point. It’s a pile of blankets and pillows, haphazardly arranged with various shirts and other soft things.

Johnny chokes on a breath. The scent is much, much stronger in here, and Simon’s eyes slide closed as he draws a deep inhale.

“Omega?” He murmurs, and to their relief, there’s a small whimper from the closet.

When he gets the door open, his heart breaks. Simon’s body goes preternaturally still, and they both stare down at you.

You’re drenched in sweat, burrowed in a pile of clothes, eyes wide. You reek, panic and fear, distress and pain burning in their nostrils, along with the overripe scent, the telltale smell of a heat. Worse, when you look up at them, there’s no recognition there. Nothing to show that you know who they are to you, or even where you are. Johnny shoves away his panic over your confusion, this state, to try to coax you forward into his arms.

“Hey, there ye are.” He reaches for you, slowly, and your body presses against the corner, head shaking back and forth. Johnny frowns. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.” His hand gets closer, nearly brushing you knee, and then to their absolute shock, you snarl.

Simon is conflicted. He’s confused.

Why did you tell them you’re on suppressants?

They would have done things a lot differently, if that wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t have left you alone, if they had known. His stomach clenches when he thinks about the possibility that this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your own during a heat.

“Darling.” Simon coos. He doesn’t want to reach for you. He doesn’t want to pull you from the closet, this safe spot you’ve built, your nest. He doesn’t want to force you out, like his father would have. Like he always did to his mother. His father would have gripped you so hard it would have hurt you, left bruises on you. He would have terrified you, taken joy from it. “Omegas are weak.” Simon was raised to believe. “The lesser. It’s our job to teach ‘em.”

You snort out a trembling breath from your nose, little groan slipping from your lips and you rub your wrist on your gland. Johnny makes a strangled sound in his throat as it happens, and Simon doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking.

Only omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates try to self soothe like that, scent themselves like that. It’s an instinct, something that happens to try to prevent them from becoming overheated or harmed by a heat unmanaged.

“No, no no. It’s alright, love, we’re here.” Johnny pleads, hand still tentatively outstretched while you stare at his fingers. Every time your wrist rubs over your gland, they both cringe, and Johnny’s body goes rigid.

“I- don’t-” You stutter. You blink at them slowly, and he can see it all on your face, plain as day. The pain. The confusion. The distress.

Simon crouches, just outside the closet. He starts up a soothing rumble, trying to lure you towards him. You lift your head slowly when you hear it, when you feel the subharmonics, the song that sings to you.

“Come here, baby.” Your brow creases, and you rub your face. You look exhausted, like you haven’t slept in days and he wonders how long you’ve been you like this, how long you’ve been suffering. You don’t smell like pre heat, so you must be on the curve upwards. Guilt burns in his stomach. “It’s alright now.” Johnny moves next to him, shifting into a kneel very slowly while you watch him, hazy gaze fixed on the bite marks on his neck, over his gland.

“You’re safe.” Johnny coaxes, and he keeps his hand towards you, but unmoving, trying to show you that neither of them are a threat.

They both work to emit soothing scents, trying to lull you into their arms. You watch them warily, curiously, eyes opening and closing in slow motion as your instincts battle whatever confusion is happening beneath the surface.

It works. You crawl slowly out from the corner, t shirt sticking to your skin, your arms trembling under your weight.

“Good girl.” Simon murmurs. Neither of them move, afraid to spook you, and then you’re curling up between their bodies, rubbing your wrist against your gland over and over.

You tuck yourself into them, head laying on Simon’s chest and his hand comes slowly to rub your back, getting you used to his touch, easing you into a more relaxed state while Johnny smooths a hand over your shoulder, coasting his wrist closer and closer to your gland, trying to scent you subtly and soothe you, gentle you. You whimper when he makes contact, and they both press a little closer.

“Shhh. You’re okay, darling. We’re here.” Simon bows his head, skimming his nose overtop your scalp, and you shift, hands grabbing for Johnny, trying to pull his body overtop yours, effectively sandwiching yourself as tight as you can between their mass. You whine, and Johnny hums in your ear, soothing you by scenting until you’re letting out little rumbles of your own, soft purrs puffing against Simon’s chest, Johnny’s lips ghosting across your sweat dotted forehead.

[natalikoromotoart]

“Food on parade” 🛴🫓🫔🥟🍰🍮☕️🎉🎈

[dottybot]

They're out and going to get some tamales (drawn while craving tamales)

and to everyone who has ever sent me messages or tags saying that they like how I draw meiko, I love you ❤

[greensagephase]

me: "Miggy, do you love me?" 🥺 miguel: *turns to look at me while we stand side by side against one of the kitchen counters, his hands deeply buried in some masa for tamales that we're prepping together for our families because we're married and volunteered to make some for a family gathering* "mi vida... we've been married for 3 years" 🙄🤦🏽‍♂️

[allium-girl]

Blue corn red chili rabbit tamale with smoked squash sweet pepper sauce

[gael-garcia]

Gael García Bernal assembles his grandma's Sinaloan-style tamales

[imakatperson22]

I got this idea from a mlm romance novel I read but hear me out:

Eddie stops by at Tia Pepa’s while Abuela is staying with her visiting LA. He just came by really quick to drop something off or maybe pick something up that he left there.

While he’s in the house, he can overhear Abuela on the phone with someone in the next room saying things like…

“Make sure you go down to that place on Century to get the masa harina not the stuff in the grocery store…”

And

“Let the mole simmer maybe 20 minutes?”

And

“This is why grandmothers always want their grandsons to marry someone nice. Someone to look after them and make them good food. They usually can’t do it for themselves. You’ll make him some nice tamales!”

And Eddie doesn’t think anything of it, probably just Abuela giving some young girl from church advice… until he gets home. Buck is in the kitchen with Chris and there’s tamales in a steamer basket and Eddie realizes Abuela was on the phone with Buck and she was telling him how to make tamales.

That’s when it hits him like a freight train.

[tooquirkytolose]

The Legend of Tamal’Ehra

Tamale Lady Isekai :3c

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Argument: Vaggie vs Angel

Charlie: (wakes up from an afternoon nap to a commotion downstairs) What's going on?

Husk: Vaggie and Angel are fighting.

Charlie: Oh, No!

Husk: Not fist fighting. They're hurling insults at each other.

Angel: I hope your vagina dries out to the point that there isnt even enough lube in Lust to moisten you up again, you two-third pint of sour cream!

Vaggie: I hope that your legs get so gnarled and coiled that they resemble olive branches, so the only porn you'll be doing is feet shit!

Angel: MAY YOUR TAMALES TURN OUT DRY AND FLAVORLESS!!!

Hazbins: Oooooh!!!

Vaggie: (face is completely flushed in anger) MAY YOUR MARINARA SAUCE NEVER CLING TO YOUR PASTA!!!

Hazbins: (Gasp in complete shock)

Angel: (gasps and bites his knuckles) That's my MOTHER'S recipe!!!

[haveyoueatenthis]

*(the last option is supposed to say, “I haven’t heard of this food”. My bad!)

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

Color theory won

Couch theory won

even the Doors theory won

After months of people calling buddie shippers crazy we get an episode full of wins and we're not even half way through the season

[hollowtones]

happy 29th birthday to me & I get to eat some good fuckin tamales for lunch

[sirenita00]

[hamletthedane]

extremely niche meme for the five Texans who follow me