[maternaliism]

HEY SO

this blog was marked explicit for reasons i STILL can’t figure out (and tumble still hasn’t gotten back to me about reviewing my blog) so i just went ahead and remade @ loveuntostrangers

[maternaliism]

@fouroclock-rock | cont

“Hm. If you say so.”

Shirley gives Donny that knowing mom look that she often does, but doesn’t press him for any further details, instead setting s bottle of cola beside him.

“So. I ain’t seen you around here much lately. Gettin’ tired of playin’ out in the middle of nowhere? ”

[iinfectedheart-blog1]

maternaliism:

Shirley scoffs quietly, touching her free hand to her cheek to hide the blush spreading to her face. She mumbles something about her food not being nearly as fancy as the food on the Strip, but doesn’t press it.

She leads Jay to a small table that’s been shoved against the wall on the far end of the kitchen and releases his hand, gesturing for him to sit. “I dunno if you got time for everythin’- you might wanna be out of here before next year.” She giggles, and takes off to the counter opposite where he’s seated; there’s a pie tin on the counter filled with just one of her latest experiments. 

A few weeks ago, Calvin had brought her a mostly intact book of prewar desserts, and inside had been a recipe for a fruit pie. She had to tweak it a little, but in the end, produced what she thought was a pretty nice tasting prickly pear pie.

Shirley sets a slice on a plate and then in front of Jay.

“I’d sit here and listen to you for as long as you wanted,” he says, his voice soft and genuine. He takes a seat, leaning against the wall, and watching curiously as she makes her way through the kitchen. She looks so… at ease here. She always did, of course, but he gets the distinct feeling that this is her kitchen. The very aura of it feels like her.

As the pie is set in front of him, Jay goes wide-eyed.

“Is this pie?” Of course, he knows it’s pie. He’s seen pie, heard about pie, but he’s never eaten anything that really resembled what a pre-war pie actually was. But this looks very much like the pictures. He looks between her and the plate for a moment before picking up a fork and taking a ginormous bite.

Oh, God. It’s like heaven.

“Shirley. This is so… oh, god. Listen, I know I don’t have the best sense of taste anymore, but this… is amazing.”

[maternaliism]

You’re just saying that.

It’s what she want’s to say, but Shirley knows better. Jay was never the sort of person who would tell her something and not mean it. Instead she only grins to herself, turning away from him to once again hide the shade of pink her face has turned.

“It’s. Still a work in progress. Calvin- he helps me run th’ bar, thinks it’ll taste better with some ice cream, but I’m still workin’ the kinks out of that one.”

Shirley pulls open the door to the large fridge near the stove, and pulls out what looks to be a hunk of ground meat that’s already been portioned off into a hefty disk. In a fluid motion, she sets the patty in a pan on the stovetop that had already been heating when Shirley went out not five minutes earlier and, in nearly no time at all, the smell of cooking meat and spices fills the small kitchen. 

She busies herself while the burger cooks and grabs a few more things: bread, her cheese, jalapenos and a few other things, and begins to assemble what’ll eventually become a burger.

“So, I- tell me what you’ve been up to.”

[maternaliism]

iinfectedheart:

“Nothin’ fancy, huh? That’s what you always say when you make stuff that’s awful fancy,” Jay says with a smile. As far as he’s concerned, Shirley used to be the best cook his side of the Commonwealth. When she left- well, when he left her- it just wasn’t the same. The Mojave was lucky to have her.

Jay follows her to the kitchen, a familiar knot twisting in his stomach as she pulls him by the hand. The mention of cheese and burgers distracts him, though.

“Burgers? Cheese? And I’m supposed to believe that ain’t fancy?” Jay chuckles, and then bites his lip thoughtfully. “You’ve… always been so creative. I’m not really surprised you’re out here making your own cheese and all… show me what else you got, Shirley. I wanna hear about everything.” He smiles sheepishly. 

“Also if you have samples, I’m not about to say no or anything…”

Shirley scoffs quietly, touching her free hand to her cheek to hide the blush spreading to her face. She mumbles something about her food not being nearly as fancy as the food on the Strip, but doesn’t press it.

She leads Jay to a small table that’s been shoved against the wall on the far end of the kitchen and releases his hand, gesturing for him to sit. “I dunno if you got time for everythin’- you might wanna be out of here before next year.” She giggles, and takes off to the counter opposite where he’s seated; there’s a pie tin on the counter filled with just one of her latest experiments. 

A few weeks ago, Calvin had brought her a mostly intact book of prewar desserts, and inside had been a recipe for a fruit pie. She had to tweak it a little, but in the end, produced what she thought was a pretty nice tasting prickly pear pie.

Shirley sets a slice on a plate and then in front of Jay.

[maternaliism]

YES YES YES FOOD HEADCANONS how do you think people in the Mojave feel about sweet stuff? cuz I doubt there's much access to real sugar, they'd have to find something else. WHAT ABOUT BAKING

OKAY THIS IS LONG I AM SORRY

So obviously prewar snacks still exist somehow so people in the Mojave have some sort of idea of what processed sugar is like. honestly it’s probably something of an acquired taste, since they’re SO sweet and not everyone can get their hands on them (there’s no way they’re as prevalent as they are in game, since there’s no one still mass producing them????)

Real sugar- processed sugar like we use today is likely out of the question, and I’ve been under the impression that TONS of sugar substitutes exist. Nevada is in the desert, where agave plants grow and agave nectar tends to be seen as a great natural sugar substitute. The game also canonically has banana yucca plant, which have fruit that are slightly sweet and I imagine can be used to substitute for sugar similar to the way one might use a regular banana in place of processed sugar. Not totally similar, but enough I figure so that people 200+ in the future won’t know the difference. 

Honey is also a possibility. Since there are flowering plants and whatnot I assume a bee analogue still exists so that’s also a possible sugar source. Unless the bee analogue is the cazador, in which case- no one is that stupid or desperate. 

also ALSO there’s the possibility that sugarcane is still being grown. it’s not native to anywhere near Nevada, but is grown in some parts of Texas so it’s plausible that some traveling caravans picked some up to sell in non-native areas. sugarcane is probably ridiculously expensive and definitely not a reliable/consistent source of sugar.  

baking is probably much more of a process than it is now. i imagine no one is really jumping at the bit to produce baking powder/baking soda(which is a chemical compound so i’m not gonna touch headcanon on that shit lol) SO things that require proofing/rising are probably not going to happen a whole lot. 

BUT if you take into account that alcohol is still being mass produced (it has to be, they would have run out by now if not) then yeast is still alive and kicking for culinary purposes. I think there’s a little bit of a difference between yeast for alcohol fermentation and baking yeast, but not enough that you couldn’t at least attempt a loaf of bread or something. yeast still needs sugar to feed it and to expand, so a lot of this really depends on the kind of sugar available.

but things like pita, tortillas, flatbread w/e are probably still super prevalent since (at least tortillas i dont have experience with the other stuff) you can cook on a stove top

woodburning ovens still exist so you can probably still use them to bake/roast/cook. and pie crust can still be made since it doesn’t need to rise so

pies are probably safe from nuclear fallout.

[maternaliism]

if this blog if good for anything

it’s good for dumping my headcanons re: foodstuff prewar

[maternaliism]

iinfectedheart:

“…I’m so sorry.”

Jay reaches out, gingerly touching her arm for a moment, and then rescinds. He had a feeling that was the case when he didn’t see her father right away- more than anything, he feels guilty, and it’s like a punch right to his stomach. He’d heard through a friend of a friend when her mother passed away, and out of fear, never approached her about it. Knowing that her father wasn’t far behind… just another thing to regret. He should have been there for her. That and he always liked her parents.

But he can’t take back his mistakes. He can only move forward.

He swallows the guilt and takes a breath, taking the hint as she turns the topic back to the bar. “Oh! I like that idea. But I’ve always been a food man,” Jay says, smiling softly. He looks around the room and then back to her, squinting slightly. “Does that mean you’re serving food already? By chance?”

For a brief moment, Shirley considers leaning into his touch; letting Jay pull her into his arms like he used to. But he pulls away and she has to keep the disappointment from becoming evident on her face.

She’s thankful that he takes the hint and moves their conversation on, though. Shirley mirrors his smile, recalling that yes- he has always been pretty fond of her food. 

“Little bit. Not anythin’ fancy or nothin’ just...” She shrugs lightly, trying to stay humble about it. If she were being honest, Shirley would admit that she’s been busy as of late with recreating recipes from before the war, but she doubts anyone is interested in her project besides her and Calvin.

Shirley reaches a hand out to lightly grab Jay’s and begins to lead him to the back, where the kitchen is. 

“I just started makin’ my own cheese- it goes real good with th’ burgers.”

[iinfectedheart-blog1]

maternaliism:

Shirley frowns sympathetically at Jay, her eyes following his as he stands and towers over her. Back in Boston, when he’d left… it had hurt so much, and for a while Shirley was certain she’d never feel anything but the overwhelming pain of losing someone you loved when she thought of him. But time had dulled the feeling, buried it under her new life here in Vegas, and whatever anger or resentment that she ever felt towards him has evaporated. 

Honestly? She’s just happy to see him again.

“…jeez, Joseph.” Shirley breaks eye contact, averting her gaze and blushing the lightest shade of pink. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear defensively. “It’s been seven years, you don’t still gotta flatter me like that.”

Jay’s face breaks into a smile.

“Seven years, huh? Even longer than I thought. If you ask me, I’m gonna have to flatter you a lot more to make up for lost time.” He reaches out, delicately touching the same strand of hair, repeating her movement. There’s a familiar bubble in his stomach, one he hasn’t felt in a long time. He’s pleasantly surprised that Shirley is being this warm to him- he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

After a beat, he pulls away, trying to reassemble whatever composure he has left. For the first time since arriving, he takes in the building around him. “So. A bar, huh? It’s nice to see you and your pops really made it happen.” Jay gives Shirley an uncertain look then, wondering if it’s inappropriate to ask. He’s never been good at holding his tongue, though. “Is he…?”

[maternaliism]

The change in her demeanor leaves little doubt as to the answer to his question. Shirley swallows hard, and hugs herself- as if she’s suddenly trying to fold into nothingness.

“...been about four years now. He didn’t outlive my ma by very much.”

It’s said with half a smile, but without any of the humor she means to put behind it. Losing her father, so shortly after losing her mother... it was hard, and she had been forced to deal with it all on her own.

“I-” She pauses with a frustrated huff, and looks around at the nearly empty bar, desperate to find something else to talk about. “I’m thinkin’ of converting it. To a proper diner.”

[maternaliism]

iinfectedheart:

Jay inhales sharply at her touch- her fingers are warm and soft against his taut skin. He dips lightly into her touch, and then presses his hand against hers. God- he never thought he could miss her so much as in this moment. After a beat he releases his breath, holding her gaze.

“You should. It was the wrong choice. I wish I’d been smart enough to realize that sooner.” Jay lingers a moment longer, and then pulls her hand away from his face. Shirley had always been too kind for her own good… part of him wants her to be upset, angry, to yell at him. He feels like he deserves it. But he knows that she won’t. Even if she still hurts.

With considerable effort, he pushes himself off the floor and smiles sadly at her. Honestly, he wishes he could just take everything back… but he’s been around long enough to know that he just has to deal with his mistakes. He’ll just have to find some way to make it up to her.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember, y’know.”

Shirley frowns sympathetically at Jay, her eyes following his as he stands and towers over her. Back in Boston, when he’d left... it had hurt so much, and for a while Shirley was certain she’d never feel anything but the overwhelming pain of losing someone you loved when she thought of him. But time had dulled the feeling, buried it under her new life here in Vegas, and whatever anger or resentment that she ever felt towards him has evaporated. 

Honestly? She’s just happy to see him again.

“...jeez, Joseph.” Shirley breaks eye contact, averting her gaze and blushing the lightest shade of pink. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear defensively. “It’s been seven years, you don’t still gotta flatter me like that.”

[maternaliism]

iinfectedheart:

“Still handsome, then,” he comments, mostly to himself. Shirley seems to distracted by the mess to notice.

Jay smiles, respecting her command as she vanishes and returns. She’s just as sweet as he remembers- even in the middle of this strange and sudden encounter, she’s still taking care of him. Even after all he did to her. He doesn’t blame her for not wanting to meet his eyes.

So he sighs slightly, watching her hands as she sweeps up the glass, still kneeling before her.

“I’m here to see you,” he says plainly. “I… wanted to apologize. Talk to you. Anything, really. Assuming you’ll give me the time of day.” Jay wants to reach out, take her hands, but… he looks up, hoping she’ll risk a glance. There’s so much he wants to say and do, so much time to make up for- but it’s hard. Things between them did not end on a good note, and it was his fault. He’s wise enough to know that now, but there’s still no telling where he and Shirley stand right now. It’s been years, after all, and he can only assume she’ll need time to even process that he’s here in front of her.

There’s a few more tense moments as Shirley sweeps the remnants of the soda bottle off the floor. Moments where she distantly wonders why, suddenly, after years he’s come back to her. Then there’s the issue of how he even managed to track her down; the two had been together in Boston, and Shirley hasn’t seen Joseph since before her trek to the Mojave.

A beat, and she finally looks at him, her blue eyes somewhat sadder than they normally appear. Even on his knees, the ghoul is tall, and he still manages to come up far enough that she can reach out a hesitant hand to brush her fingers along his cheek without stooping.

“You don’t gotta apologize, Joseph.” She laughs softly, humorlessly, and moreso at the idea that he feels like he should apologize for things than at him. “You did what you felt like you had t’ do. I don’t fault you for that.”

[maternaliism]

iinfectedheart:

When she finally emerges, time seems to slow down. It’s as if he’s watching her in slow motion, a hazy memory of a past love- but no, there she is, standing  in front of him. All at once Jay shoots up, nearly knocking his stool backwards. He can’t help but smile.

“Shirley-”

But before much else, the bottle that was formerly in her hands hits the floor and shatters. Jay only notices Ben at her feet before he clambers away in fear. There’s a palpable tension between them- not entirely negative, he notes, but not exactly overwhelmingly positive either. Jay smiles apologetically and quickly closes the distance, kneeling before her to pick up the biggest pieces of the bottle.

“Am I that ugly now?”

“Wh- I-”

Shirley stammers, unable to get her thoughts straight enough to form a coherent sentence. It’s been...god, how long has it been? Long enough that his sudden reappearance is like seeing a ghost.Her eyes follow Jay as he kneels before her and begins to pluck the chunks of glass from the floor. This, at least, triggers something in her, and Shirley manages to come back to herself.

“No, I... Here- lemme get that. Don’t touch it.”

She scurries to the back to retrieve a broom and dustpan, and takes a second or two to breathe and stop her damn hands from shaking like they are. Once she’s calmed herself as best she can, Shirley returns and begins to clean the mess, taking a particular interest in the glass spread across the floor. She’s not at all avoiding looking at Jay. Not at all.

“...what’re you doin’ here, Joseph?”

[iinfectedheart-blog1]

@maternaliism

It’s taken him a hell of a long time to get here.

Maybe not as long as it could have, but it feels like it’s been ages. Which is saying a lot, considering this particular man’s… predicament. Will the rest of his life be like this, he wonders? Hopefully not, if things go well here.

So a man walks into a bar, looking decidedly more conspicuous than other men like him. He doesn’t really care what kind of looks he gets- in any case, the bar is not particularly busy at this time of day. He ambles in, his gait uneven, and takes a seat at the bar. And he waits.

It’s hard to wait to see her again, but she has to come out from the back eventually. What’s a few more minutes?

[maternaliism]

It’s been about an average day.

She’d sent Denny and Calvin off to fetch some things for her, so she’s had to handle the midday rush on her own; not that that’s not something she’s used to. The midday rush is never that hectic anyway.

Shirley is coming out of the back, bottle of cola in hand and Ben skittering around her feet when she sees him. 

It’s been a while, and he’s definitely looked better, but there’s no mistaking him. Her breath catches in her chest and the usual pink hue of her cheeks drains into a pallid appearance. The bottle is falling to the floor before she can stop it. 

“...”

[luxuagenda]

inktober #15 & #16

plucky young dennis hutchins and his wife from another universe with her favorite son <3

commissions | patreon

[miidnightmarauder]

Yeah, you go do that. You n’ your two best friends and not Denny, that guy who hangs out in your bar.

*Denny purses his lips, trying to stay strong. But God… she gets such good meat and her food is so good. He’s never eaten as well as he has here. What kind of man turns down a delicious, free meal? A stubborn one, that’s who.

…But then he thinks about that stew and his stomach growls and he decides, just this once, that stubborness isn’t going to win out. Damn this woman! Denny stumbles after her.*

W-wait, wait, alright, hold up. I changed my mind, I’ll take a pity meal. But I’m gonna pretend not to enjoy it!

[maternaliism]

-She smiles to herself as Denny follows after her. Once again, food has solved her problems. At least for the time being. She knows Denny well enough to know that this particular subject isn’t going to be dropped any time soon.-

Mmm, you can pretend all you want, but you just ain’t got the poker face for it, baby. Didn’t you once tell me you enjoy my cookin’ more than most thing in life?

-Shirley rounds a corner and heads into the kitchen area where, surprise(!), the stew is already bubbling away in an enamel pot.-

If you go n’ grab your brother for me, I’ll getcha a nice big bowl. Maybe even dig out some bread.

[miidnightmarauder]

*Denny stares at her for a long time, genuinely taken aback.*

I- we- th- and I-

*It’s not a charming sight, Denny tripping over his works like an idiot. Shirley should be proud of one thing, though- it’s hard to leave Denny speechless. And even though he can tell that she’s trying to make light of the whole thing, her words sting. Sure, maybe he hasn’t outright said that he has a huge crush on her and thought that their relationship was edging towards that, but… damn, shouldn’t she just know that shit?

After a moment, he closes his mouth and silently watches as she approaches him. The hand on his shoulder and her pet names reek of pity. In a fairly pathetic attempt at trying not to look hurt, Denny crosses his arms tightly over his chest and resumes pouting.*

I don’t want none of your pity lunch.

[maternaliism]

-She almost feels bad for him. Shirley honestly, truly hadn’t meant to insult Denny to the point of speechlessness, and to see him tripping over his words because of it- well, she feels guilty. But still, that’s no reason for the man to be stubborn. She removes the hand from  his shoulder and crosses her arms with a light little huff.-

Well humph. Fine, If you don’t want my lunch then I’ll go find Calvin and me n’ him n’ Ben’ll enjoy a nice lunch together. 

-She turns to go.-

‘s a shame too. Stopped by the butcher yesterday and got some fresh meat... Was gonna make a real nice stew.

-Cue walking away.-

[miidnightmarauder]

I’m hurt, miss Shirley. Here I thought we were turnin’ into right good friends.

*Denny shoots her that charming smile, even though he knows it doesn’t work on her. Old habits die hard, he supposes. Calvin doesn’t fall for them either, and yet, Denny always tries.

Sighing, he removes his hand from his gun and runs it through his hair.*

Now listen, I’ll let you have your secrets. We all got ‘em, yeah? That’s fine. But we’re basically business partners now. My brother and I practically live here. You let Calvin deal with your funds, for God’s sake! I don’t think it’s fair that you’re doing this off on the side and not lettin’ us get involved. Especially me. I mean… look at me, Shirley.

*He ushers to himself, and then gives her a moment to consider.*

You mean to tell me that I don’t look exactly like the type of guy who’s seen his fair share of less than wholesome underground activities? Cuz either you’re lyin’ or I’m losin’ my touch.

[maternaliism]

We ain’t nothin’, baby. Your brother earns keep around here enough for both of ya, so if anyone around here’s a partner, it’s him. You just sit around lookin’ pretty and occasionally gettin’ poor boys radiation poisoned.

-She grins at him, watching as he gestures to himself. She’s half joking, of course, but something tells her Denny won’t see it that way. So Shirley quits scritching Ben- to the gecko’s dismay, and walks around to the bar to place a hand lightly on Denny’s shoulder with a smile.-

Baby, just drop it. You n’ I both know this ain’t goin’ nowhere. How ‘bout you take a seat and I’ll whip you up some lunch instead, hmm?

[miidnightmarauder]

*Denny pouts. With a huff, he stands up to follow her down the bar.*

Wh- AGH FUCK.

*He jumps back, alarmed by Ben’s sudden presence. It perches itself directly next to Shirley and stares at Denny with those big, wet, soulless eyes… Denny shivers. He hates that this… thing hangs around here, that she keeps him as some sort of pet, but he can’t rightfully say anything about it. She gets upset every time he does.

Drawing a deep breath, he powers through the overwhelming sense of danger and follows Shirley and the gecko down the bar. Still, he stands a few steps back and rests his hand near the butt of his gun, just in case.*

You oughta know as well as I do that I can’t just drop things. ‘Specially not somethin’ like this. Besides, my source is good, so I ain’t gonna drop it til you admit that I’m right. And tell me the real reason you won’t let me in.

[maternaliism]

-The gecko cocks it’s head at Denny’s yelping, looking oddly satisfied with himself. Shirley only sighs lightly, and reaches out to scritch the top of Ben’s head. The gecko lets out a pleased chirping and lies down to revel in the attention.-

Well, I’d ask who your source is, but it don’t really matter...

-With her other hand she pinches the bridge of her nose.-

Okay. If- and I mean if, you’re right. Maybe I got my reasons for not lettin’ you in. And maybe I don’t exactly feel comfortable just out n’ tellin’ you. I’m allowed to keep a secret or two, yeah? We don’t know each other that well, honey.