I need a Reader who just has to rawdog it through life.
No caffeine, regulated sugar, no alcohol, no tobacco, no energy drinks, no milk, no cheese, no gluten.
Reader who has Pica, Reader who works a night shift and yet has insomnia, so they are just constantly tired. Reader who has problems walking, Reader with a lazy eye, reader with ‘unattractive’ features.
Reader with mobility devices who still push their limits to improve. Med student Reader who can’t find a job to support it. Broke Reader being screwed over by their debt, Reader with albinism, black Reader having the paper bag test done to them at work, asian Reader influencer having to deal with the white men in their comments.
Biracial Reader struggling to choose an identity when the world chooses it for you, specifically a non black mixed Reader. Like Indian reader mixed with Japanese, who’s skin doesn’t match the projected image, and yet is too far away from their other culture.
Disordered eater Reader who staves themselves all day only to binge eat when they can’t take it. Disordered eater Reader who works out too much and yet forgets to eat.
Scarred Reader who is not the romantic stereotype, who looks deformed by their scars. Burned Reader struggling to be treated as human after their mutilation. Amputee Reader struggling to relearn their body.
Curly-haired Reader wishing to have straight hair and straight-haired Reader wishing to have curls.
A Reader who covers their freckles, and a Reader who paints them. A masc-looking Fem!Reader who struggles to wear feminine clothes, fem-looking Male!Reader struggling to look masculine!
Give me a Reader with too many siblings, who isn’t the oldest, and is lost in the middle! A Reader who daydreams the day away, who draws cringe OCs and cries when their favorite character dies!
A Reader who’s too empathetic, a Reader who’s too apathetic! A Reader who’s overwhelmed with parenting, a Reader trying to reparent themselves after being raised a brat. An high-functioning autistic Reader who tries to validate their experiences. A high-needs autistic Reader who uses a robotic voice to communicate (I forgot what it’s called 😞) and yet is still chatty and funny!
A Reader who is afraid of stupid things, a narcoleptic Reader who finds everything funny. A Reader with no humor, a Reader who’s working off weight. And I’m not talking no ‘140 lbs(63.503kg) to 80lbs(36.287kg) 🤩!’ type Y/N build. I’m talking overweight Reader deciding (FOR THEMSELVES!!!!!) that they want to loose a couple pounds. I want a bodybuilder chubby Reader who can lift over 300 lbs (136 kg).
I need a nerdy BL lover Reader, who spends all their money on their Gacha games. Weirdo Reader, who knows more people online than real life. Creepy Reader who watches analog horror to make theories.
Perv Reader who’s usual reads is smut, who’s favorite authors are dark romance. Where’s the crime loving Readers, who yumeship themselves with criminals. Where’s the other side of crime loving Reader, who spends hours working to the sound of crime podcasts. Digital artist Reader, who draws to the sounds of body-cams and celebrates in their room when the bad guy gets caught.
Niche fandom Reader who makes their own merch, dedicated to a dead fandom like it’s their legacy. AO3 author Reader who’s iconic throughout the fandom. (Like Jabsartt, or the Mirrors fic)
WE NEED READERS WHO WE CAN RELATE TO!! NO PLAIN Y/N, GIVE THEM SOME SPICEEE!!! MAKE THEM CREEPY WEIRDOS WHO CAN’T RELATE TO NORMAL PEOPLE!!
aka I just want a weirdo reader. Not even just that, but that was the OG intent. Make them relatable people. Make them fat. Not even chubby, give them elbow meat and make them have big faces. Make them weak and slow, make them desperate, make them relatable. Make their lives shit, make them feel inferior, build them back up into a new person. Make them spontaneous, put yourself in there, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
And for goodness sake, please don’t make the default white. Write your own experiences into them, how would you react, not some perfect doll. Don’t be afraid of the cringe that might come from writing Readers of different colors and race, just stay away from the stereotypes. You can even look up how to write different races or read experiences from the people of that race you’re basing it off of. Don’t make white the default. As a white person.
a/n: i messed up the date on the second ss, its supposed to be January 15
JANUARY 15— 1:51 PM
You were currently sitting in your office, doing nothing but trying to brainstorm some new ideas on what to post for your youtube. You have been feeling a bit burnt out, feeling as if every single unique idea has oozed out of your brain and formed a puddle of mush at the bottom of your feet. Uninspired, dull, and discouraged were some simple adjectives to put into perspective of your current feelings.
It felt as if your thoughts were the same as watching paint dry; boring, repetitive, and expected. Sighing, you grabbed your phone to scroll on whatever social media you want to pick to at least give yourself a sort of a brain break. That was until you noticed a new notification on your phone.
You felt nervous weirdly enough. This would be your first time even agreeing to collaborate with someone else and it's an all time new for you. You and Quen have been following each other for quite some time. You guys never texted, only comments left on each other posts was the farthest you've ever done. Even though this was an all-time new for you, pushing and challenging boundaries, you felt kinda glad this chance landed itself on your lap.
New opportunities dont come by every day, so you had to take this one.
Even though you don't know her, you can clearly tell she's a genuine person. Through this short interaction, you already felt so much better.
JANUARY 17— 7:30 AM
Today was the day you are going over Quen's to film for her youtube. You were excited and anxious at the same time. Quen sent you her address a bit ago after you both agreed on a time for you to get there. She lived around 2 hours max away from you, so you decided to leave a bit early to beat traffic. You both had decided to meet at 10:40 am as it was a good time for you and Quen.
Grabbing your keys, jacket, bag, and whatever necessities needed, you left your apartment and started heading towards your car. You started your car, hearing your engine roar into power, as you sat in the driver's seat. You had a Nissan 350z, one of your dream cars from youth that you were able to buy at a good price a couple years back. It had a black glossy exterior shining brightly and a matching black and red interior. Though you had one of your dream cars, your true dream car was a 1965 Ford Mustang.
Getting comfortable in your seat, you connect your phone to the aux to start playing your spotify playlist. The first song that came up was dive in by pierce the veil, one of your favorite songs. Singing along, you finally pulled out of the parking lot and headed your way toward Quen's address.
Traffic was quite forgiving today, as surprising as it is. It was a decently long drive but you felt glad that there was no heavy traffic on your way to Quen. Glad that you slept a bit longer yesterday, you were nearing her house and you can already tell its gorgeous.
it was a modern house, still, you can see Quen's personality seeping through.
Sending her a quick message about your arrival, you quickly found an empty parking space and parked. Grabbing your items, you made your way to her house.
It was cute, with pretty greenery outside, giving the house some personality. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt your nerves at an all-time max even though you knew that Quen was a nice and chill person. You felt your hands get clammy so you quickly wiped your hands on your pants. But as soon as you reached her doorstep, the door flew right open.
She yelled your name with a huge grin, quickly catching you in a hug.
"HEYYY! You're literally so much more gorgeous in person that I think I'm already in love with you", Quen said
You laugh, your smile matching hers "I think I should get on one knee already, I already love you."
You both laugh, she quickly moves out of the way and welcomes you in. The inside of her house was cute, with some nice vintage furniture and random pops of color here and there that highlighted her personality. There were silly pictures on the walls of her with friends or family, each sharing a big smile on their face. Seeing those photos puts a smile on your face.
"So, our set is all ready, I have all the cameras and audio prepared with the kitchen already set up with everything we need to cook. Do you want to start right now or do you want to relax for a bit, I know that you mentioned your car ride was pretty long." She said, moving her hands as she spoke. It seemed that was a habit of hers.
"I'm fine with recording right away" She nodded as she made her way to the kitchen with you following behind.
Once you made it to the kitchen, you saw how big it was. It was huge with white walls, wooden shelves with plants, and an assortment of tiny and cute decorations on them, the shelves were a nice shade of light gray that complemented well with the marble countertops. The ingredients needed lied on the countertops ready for use and the rest of the room was filled with cameras, lights, microphones, and people.
"Okay, so everything is set up as I said, my crews are here to make sure the audio is working and they're making sure the camera is good and shit." She was pointing at her crew and naming them, with them waving at you and you waving back with a smile.
Nodding, she continued, "We can start in 5, I'll do the intro and introduce you and what we're gonna do and will continue from there. You feeling alright? I know its your first collab and I would feel hella anxious if I was you right now."
"Okay that sounds good but yeah I feel a bit anxious right now, but I'll feel better as we film though, thanks for checking in." She nods, signaling her crew to get ready for filming as they all start their checking on the filming gear.
As soon as you knew it, 5 minutes had passed and filming started.
Quen positions herself in the middle of the kitchen island, arms stretched out. The person with the camera zoomed in into her as she began speaking, "Hey guys, welcome to this next episode of feeding starving celebrities, and today's guest is... Pierce the y/n!!!!" She yelled excitedly, with a huge smile on her face.
She raised her hands, signaling for the camera to pan to you. You smiled at her, your smile matching hers as you waved at the camera.
"hi"
"Okay so while she trying to act nonchalant, today I have a fat stack of questions to ask her while we make her favorite dishes. Any guesses on what were making?" She turned to you, waiting for your response.
"Umm... based on what ingredients are out, are we making sopes maybe? Hmmm, maybe agua de horchata too?" Your face was curious, hands on hips as you took a look at the variety of ingredients covering her marble counters.
"Okay, I see you!! You basically got it right but were also making jericallas, I know you're from Guadalajara and that's a very popular dessert there and you mentioned it as your favorite before. Sooo, that will be the menu for today! Lets hope and pray we don't burn down the kitchen!"
"Damn, you really did pull a Nardwuar on me, am I in one of his interviews?? Cut the cameras." You grin, successfully feeling less nervous.
She laughs, "Anyways, let's not expose my secrets. So we're gonna start with the sopes. I have the the masa, beans, meat, lettuce, cheese, and the cream." Nodding in confirmation, she continues.
"SO, step one, we mix the masa harina with salt and water," She says, grabbing the Maseca corn flour from behind her as well with the salt. "According to my directions, not really mine but from this website but let's pretend it's my recipe, we need 2 cups masa harina, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1 1/4 cups of water."
As Quen goes to fill a measuring cup with the needed amount of water, you grab a bowl big enough to mix the ingredients and start to pour out the needed measures of both the salt and flour. Pouring them into the bowl, Quen comes back with the needed water.
"Okay, so now, we pour the water in and mix with our hands. Do you wanna do that or do I do it?" She asks you.
"I got it, can you pour the water in though?"
She nods, pouring half of the water into the bowl so you can start mixing. Slowly, it starts becoming into the dough as Quen pours the rest into it. As you continue to mix it, you see Quen reach for her questions.
"So y/n, question numero uno is - wait actually its not really a question more of a statement. Anyways...", she looks into the second camera, giving it a mischievous glance that you didn't notice. "Look at this photo for me and tell me what you think about it. Does it trigger any feelings or memories?"
As you glance up from the bowl, Quen shows you the big notecard with her question written on it, but instead of a question, there's a photo.
"Oh my god" your jaw drops, "how the fuck did you find my middle school graduation photo. Dude... I swear to god do I need to put myself under witness protection, like I'm fearing for my life right now how did you actually find that. This is like lost footage." You start looking around as if you were being watched to further add to your bit.
Quen laughs loudly, doubling over as she shows the camera your middle school graduation photo. You had a heavy side bang, a terrible sense of fashion as if you just walked out of hot topic and Spencer at the same time, and heavy eyeliner.
"Dude, like seriously, I don't know how I was allowed to walk out of my house looking like that. I still feel the eyeliner in my eyes from the amount of times I messed up my eyeliner and ended up poking my eyes."
"STOP, you do NOT look that bad queen, man, have you seen how I looked like when I was doing Vine?" You laugh along with Quen, still wondering how she even got that photo.
"Dude this is actually insane, I was expecting some icebreaker type of questions but instead we just dove straight into it??? Oh my god. This is making me nervous for the rest of my questions."
The rest of the time goes on well, Quen asks some questions here and there while you both continue making the sopes. It was going pretty good, you started to cook the beans to place onto the cooked sopes while Quen started to work on the agua de horchata.
As you finished heating up the beans while Quen was talking to you, she suddenly cut herself off her sentence.
"You know what song has been stuck in my head as of recently?" You hum, asking her to continue as you started to spread the beans on each sope. "You know the song with Jorjiana and GloRilla? ILBB2?"
"Yeah, I've heard of it"
"So, the part thats stuck in my head is the one that goes like" Quen clears her throat, "They say shooters shoot... Duke Dennis, whats up with you?"
Before you can reply, she hits you with another line.
"SO WHO YOU TRYNNA SHOOT AT? WHOS YOUR YOUTUBE CRUSH??" She squeals, showing off her card with her question reading "who’s your youtube crush", pride evident on her face at how smoothly she was able to ask this.
Most people wouldve dodged the question, claiming it to be too risky for them to answer or either they were too scared to answer it. They would've played it cool, given a safe answer.
But you? You doubled down.
So, with all the confidence you could muster, you leaned over the kitchen counter, looking deadstraight into the camera in font of you, and said, "Hamzah, whats up with you?"
Quen lost her mind, squealing as she look at you in disbelief.
She yelled your name, "HAMZAH? As in hamzahthefantastic? The guy who's a part of slushy noobz?" Her eyes were wide as you nodded to her question.
"Girl I strive to be as bold as you, but as much as I strive to be as bold as you, I pray for you as well cause damn, may those fan girls not release their wrath on you."
"Anyways, back on topic, how do you know about Hamzah?" Quen asks you as she starts to drain the horchata she made in the blender into a pitcher, making sure to strain it.
You were finishing up the toppings on each sope, veggies, Oaxaca cheese, and crema. "I've seen some clips of both Martin and Hamzah on tik tok. I like them both, they're funny and seem like genuine people. I've seen Hamzah though and just thought he was cute, especially when he wasn't bald but he's still cute without hair." You shrug as Quen laughs.
The rest of the video goes well, you both finished making the sopes and horchata and moved on to making the jericallas which were simple enough and easier with two people. Quen kept on asking you questions with you answered them, you both were a good duo.
Laughs and screams were shared between you both as you conversed, your face hurt with how much you were smiling all throughout the hour and more of filming.
You finally finished making all the food and tried it together. It was really good in your opinion and Quens. Finally filming the outro and everything needed, at around 12:50 you were done with filming and cleaning up everything.
Since it was still bright out, you and Quen decided to hang out since both of your schedules were empty. It was a great night, full of laughter and meaningful conversations. Your bond with Quen was strong and you were glad you accepted her collaboration.
You had gotten home at 7:46 PM, finally worn out with all the action that you just headed straight into the shower and took a very deserved hot shower. You successfully ended your day at 10:26 PM and decided to treat yourself to early sleep.
Summary: Per Mexican tradition, Y/N makes an altar for her family members that passed away. She added Charles’s family members as well
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, death, inaccuracies
A/N: This was the first time I put up an ofrenda and since today is Day of the Dead, it’s fitting
The best thing about dating a Formula 1 driver is the traveling. Y/N joined Charles in all his races, mainly because she is able to work from home as an event planner. So when they were in Mexico City for the Grand Prix, she bought papel picado, sugar skulls, and little dog alebrijes. Now that they are in Brazil, Y/N bought candles, a table cloth, marigolds, and printed out photos to set up the altar.
Y/N made it back to the hotel while Charles was in the track for free practice. She placed the table cloth over the hotel room desk, added the papel picado and marigold before placing the photos in the place card holder. There was one of her aunt that died from cancer, her grandpa that died of old age, Jules, and Hervé. Onces the little altar was set up exactly how she wanted it, she placed the candles near their photos and added the sugar skulls and alebrijes wherever there was an empty space.
Though Y/N wasn’t in Mexico anymore, there are Mexican restaurants in Brazil and she ordered her aunt’s and grandpa’s favorite food plus pan de muerto to have it delivered to the hotel. There was a knock on the door and when Y/N opened it, expecting to see a hotel employee with Mexican food, she saw her boyfriend.
“Muñeco, i thought you would still be in the track.” Y/N said, charles leaned in and kissed Y/N on the cheek before walking into their hotel room.
“We finished, what’s all this?” Charles asked, pointing to the table.
“Right. Well, today is day of the dead and usually I’m in my apartment to make this ofrenda but now I’m dating you so I brought the ofrenda with me.” Y/N explained but Charles looked confused. “Um, it’s an altar, it’s a way to honor my dead relatives and welcome their spirits to our home. I usually go all out but this is a hotel room and I don’t want the fire alarm to go off.” Y/N explained and Charles looked closer at the ofrenda and saw a picture of Jules and another one of his father.
“You put them up?” Charles asked in a whisper, he felt his eyes getting teary, picking up the photo of him and his dad.
“I know you miss them a lot, everything you are doing in formula 1 in for them, I thought it would be nice to add them to the ofrenda. I know this isn’t really your tradition but it’s mine and I want to share it with you.” Y/N said softly, Charles looked at her and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you, Mon ange, that is very sweet of you, really.” Charles said.
“Um, it’s tradition to add their favorite food on the altar. I ordered some Mexican for my aunt and grandpa, what did Jules and your dad like to eat?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could get it here but they liked…” Charles told Y/N their favorite foods.
“I’m sure we could order it from somewhere.” Y/N said. There was a knock and Y/N opened the door, it was the food she ordered. She got the food and gave the man a tip before walking back to Charles. “We also have this bread that’s called pan de muerto, we place it on the ofrenda too.”
“I’m sure they would enjoy the bread.” Charles said smiling. He opened the bag to help Y/N place the bread on the table. “So when we were is Mexico and you told me you were shopping, you were preparing for this?”
“Of course! I’m still Mexican, Muñeco, my tradition won’t change because I’m in another country.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. Y/N placed the food in front of her aunt’s and grandpa’s picture.
“Maybe next year you can put up the ofrenda in my place.” Charles said.
“You mean that?” Y/N asked.
“I do, we haven’t been dating long but I feel very happy with you, happier than I have been in a long time.” Charles said before he kissed Y/N softly.
“I feel happy with you too. Oh, do you want some bread? It’s really good.” Y/N said, grabbing a loaf (?) and offering it to charles.
“Sure.” Charles said, tearing off of a piece of bread to taste. He hummed in content. “This is really good, do they sell this a lot on Mexico for day of the dead?”
“Yes they do, Mexican bread is the best.” Y/N said,
“I Can tell. I’m going to send a picture of the altar to my mom, is that okay?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” Y/N said and Charles took a picture of the altar, making sure Pascale could clearly see his dad and Jules. He sent it to his mom and got a response in 2 minutes.
“My mom said it’s very sweet and considerate of you to add my dad and Jules.” Charles said.
“I May not have met them but I know how much they mean to you, I couldn’t leave them out.” Y/N said, looking down all shy. Charles brought his his finger under her chin to make her look at him,
“I love you so much, thank you for this.” Charles said before kissing her deeply.
“Don’t mention it.” Y/N said as soon as they separated from the kiss. They hugged each other. “I think we should watch Coco.” Charles laughed at her suggestion. “Well how else are you supposed to get the day of the dead?”
“Fine, let’s see if you can connect you phone to the hotel TV.” Charles said.
And that’s how they spent Día de Muertos, watching Coco on Disney plus and eating pan de muerto.
warnings: mention of fainting,reader described as feminine,mentions of hooking up, hat rule
dual pov: Alicia/Jack
word count: 1.1k
You had the night off and were going to go to a rodeo with some friends. But right before you leave your friend Alondra passes out and you have to bring her to PTMC.
Abbot wasn’t expecting you to come in since you had the night off as you've been bragging since your last shift together. Imagine the shock on your face when he sees you walking in the ambulance bay wearing boots and a cowboy hat on.
“Abbot you need a hobby, seriously you can't be here all the time.” Dana said to him while he was sitting at a computer charting his patients medications. To be fair he was a couple hours early for his shift but it didn't matter. He couldn’t sleep and he truly had nothing else to do. So he thought why not go back to work?
“Ive got a shelf that could use fixing if your up for it Jack.” She says looking down at the iPad in her hand.
“You know what, I might just take you up on that offer Dana.” He says finally finishing up his notes and sitting up from his chair. “Well not now cause we’ve got an incoming trauma 2 minutes out.” Dana said, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
As if right on cue paramedics come in with a woman on a gurney and- Is that you? “Dr. Gonzalez, what are you doing here?” He says almost amused and god is he glad to see you. You looked breathtaking, he’d never seen you not wearing scrubs. Not that you didn’t look just as beautiful in scrubs but this- this was different. You were covered head to toe in denim. Jeans that hugged your hips in the best way possible. A shiny Belt buckle adorning your waist. A denim halter top that reveals a perfect amount of your cleavage. Christ, he thought he was in heaven. You looked gorgeous.
Mohan had already jumped onto the case with Robby asking you all kinds of questions. You walked to Dana telling her important information and asking if there was anything you could do other than stand in the corner and just watch. “Abbot, what are you doing here so early?” You say snapping him back to reality. “Oh you know, working like everyone else. Are you going somewhere?” He says looking you over for the 3rd time since you've walked into the ED. “Uhm yeah I was supposed to go to a rodeo with some friends but uhm she collapsed before we could even leave so I guess we're not going anymore.” You say with a tone of disappointment in your voice. “Well I think you look very nice, cowgirl.” Dana says easing the tension between you two. “Aw, thank you Dana.” You say blowing a kiss at her before walking to the Trauma Room your friend was in.
“Oh you’ve got it bad Abbot.” Robby said quietly, chuckling next to him. Jack's head snapped towards his direction. Was he that obvious? There was no way he noticed it. “I don't know what you're talking about Robby.” he says feigning confusion to Robby's comment. He looks at you once again walking out of the Trauma Room and back to the main hub. “Take a picture, it might last longer, Abbot.” You say jokingly as you pass by where he was standing. He was screwed. “In that outfit? I might just have to Gonzalez.”
You flirted with everyone so he knew not to get worked up about it. But he couldn’t help feeling a warmth in his chest whenever you would say something to him. He felt like a teenager with a crush on a popular girl that would never like him. Okay he's being dramatic but he seriously didn’t know what he was going to do with his feelings for you.
“What's up, hottie.” Collins says to you as you walk by her and Princess. “Oh please!” You say laughing and going to hug her. “Ugh come back I don't think I can deal with Langdon by myself any longer.” She says with a whiny tone in her voice. As if he heard his name he comes out of a room and right where you're standing. “Am I dreaming or is that you Gonzalez?” He says, wiping his eyes and assessing you. “Yeah it’s me Langdon don’t get too excited.” You missed them all. Yeah you were the same with the night shift but it was different.
You feel his eyes on you. It wouldn’t be the first time today. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time ever since your first shift together. After he comforted you in the Ambulance Bay you had a small flirtation going. Even Parker and Shen were in on it, clocking the shared looks, small touches, even tiny compliments. But lately they’ve become more flirtatious. Shen couldn’t believe his ears when he heard you tell Abbot he gave “DILF Energy”. It was normal between you two. Others might think it was weird but you flirted with everyone so it was an everyday thing. You’ve never been the shy type, always speaking your mind in some way. You were a grown women and to be fair you were lonely. A little flirting now and then with Jack never hurt anyone.
So when the day shift heard the way you and Abbot acted during the night shift rumors started and bets were placed.
Betting Pool: Gonzalez and Abbot finally hooking up?
When?
Who initiated it?
Date after?
Jack Abbot was hot, like annoyingly hot. Like distracting you in the middle of an intubation kind of hot. Not only that but he was smart and kind. When you work together you fall into sync. Practically reading each other's minds. You would never tell him though. It was too embarrassing to say out loud. The only thing stopping you was you. It’s not like he’s your boss, you’re both attendings in the ED. You were both grown adults.
You could see him being a good boyfriend, hell even a good husband. You don't want to settle down just yet. You just started your career and you weren't stopping anytime soon. But a part of you was willing to change that for him.
“Nice boots.” You recognize the voice. You spin around in his direction. “Oh these old things? Well you're right, they are very nice.” You say looking down at your boots then back up at him. “You look good, cowgirl.” He says removing a piece of lint off your hat. “Do you know the hat rule, Abbot?”
“No, what is it?” You take off your hat slowly and place it on his head gently. “Lo que no sabes, no te hará daño caballero.” You whisper into his ear. Being so close to him sent chills down your spine. “Keep it, it looks good on you Abbot.” You turn and walk away back to the room your best friend was in.
Later on after shift it occurred to him that he still had no idea what you meant by “The hat rule”. He decided to search it up, eager to know what this meant and why you said it to him. He opened a link from an urban dictionary and was surprised when he saw the definition.
The Cowboy Hate Rule:
Put simply, you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy/cowgirl.
Mexican reader who grew up with family that don’t outright say apologies to each other. They just either apologize through making them their favorite food, or an act of kindness to them as a way of apologizing. Bakugou who also doesn’t out right apologies to others, but instead does an act of service for that apology and forgiveness. So when you two start going out and get into arguments you guys don’t say “I’m sorry”, you guys make up in either cooking each others favorite dish or help them around with work or chores. Your favorite way of him apologizing is when he massages your shoulders. Silently telling you that he’s sorry, you end up forgiving him with a kiss on his lips to say that you forgive him. You guys might not voice your apologies to each other, but your actions speak louder than words. Sweet actions that you both always cherish.
*Damian staying with MexicanReader and Dick, while Bruce and Alfred are out of town*
*MexicanReader telling the Demon Brat about La Llorona for a world history project he had*
*Dick arriving from patrol tired and with a giant knots in his entire body*
*Dick asking MexicanReader to give him a. Deep tissue massage at 3 am.*
*MexicanReader Accepts*
*Dick screeching like a banshee because of the deep tissue massage At 3 am.*
*His screams very similar to those of La Llorona*
*Damian absolutely terrified in Dick and MexicanReader’s couch because he has fought demons, crazy sorcerers and clowns but never a Vengeful Mexican Whaling Ghost out hunting for kids his age*
Hello Manager! I'd like to order a Velvet Mousse with Berry Coulis for Azul x a mexican!male!reader who worships the folk saint Santa Muerte
Context: Folk staints are unnoficial christian saints that are local to certain regions and thus much more familiar to local christians in terms of culture, understanding, and values. In Mexico, Santa Muerte is one of the most popular folk saints due to her being death aka the one thing that is truly equal and is characterized as being amoral, non judgemental, and accepting of anyone willing to worship her. This distinct lack of judgement makes her extremely popular among the marginalized groups such as the poor, sex workers, LGBT, and even criminals that would be shamed away by other Catholic figures. Santa Murte has been declared non canon and even demonized by the official catholic church despite many worshippers still considering themselves catholic and following catholic tradition. Santa Muerte's main holiday is All Saints Day aka Dia de los Muertos.
For extra sources, here are links to a tumblr post by a worshipper on how they do their worship, a 20 minute video going into further detail of her presence in Mexico, and a 12 minute video on Dia de los Muertos:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UOq8tX4gnEw
https://www.tumblr.com/flammeinfernale/760297809025056768/santa-muerte-saint-of-the-death-and-goddess-of?source=share
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbEbe4uzbIE&t=28s
As for the reader himself: His relationship with catholicism is much more casual in the sense that he read the Bible, went to Church, and believe in the catholic doctrine but isn't really all that strict about it. He's open to science and openly discard the more outdated discriminatory aspects of catholicism. However, when it comes to Santa Muerte herself, the reader is deeply devoted to her and his faith in her is unshakeable. He keeps a rather splendid alter in Ramshackle and lets anyone leave offerings of their own so long as their respectful.
On Azul's end, it would likely seem incredibly strange as there is no mention of any religion whatsoever in Twisted Wonderland. Its likely incredibly strange to picture an entire majority of the world worshiping one God or the idea of folk saints. For specific moments in the order I'd like that Azul's first ever encounter with Santa Murte be when he comes across the reader's alter in Ramshackle during chapter 3 and he becomes interested because the reader explicitly stated in the cotnract that the alter not be disturbed until renovations began. Later on when Azul begins crushing on and trying to romance the reader, he would start asking both for his own curiosity and also to get closer to his crush. I also imagine him getting bonked over the head for suggesting commercializing El Dia de los Muertos cause my guy Azul that is a religious holiday meant to welcome back the spirits of dead relatives you do not do this disrespect!
Ah, esteemed patron! Welcome back to the Lounge.
My goodness, what an extraordinary and beautifully intricate "order" you have placed! This is not just a "dish," this is a profound Manager's Specialty Pasta infused with the complex, rich flavors of a Velvet Mousse with Berry Coulis.
You have requested a "fusion dish" that explores faith, culture, deep devotion, and the clash of two distinct worldviews—all centered on the developing romance between Azul and a devoted Mexican!Male!Reader.
Thank you so much for providing such clear, rich context and sources! This level of detail allows the kitchen to prepare this highly personal and complex "dish" with the utmost respect, accuracy, and honor that it deserves.
The inclusion of Azul's logical curiosity and his inevitable "commercializing bonk" is a truly inspired and delightful concept.
The kitchen has prepared this "dish" with deep reverence for the Reader's faith and the delicate nuances of their culture. I do hope this preparation is to your satisfaction.
Serving: A Deal With Death
Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of the Mostro Lounge, despised inefficient variables. By the time he was prepared to move forward with the Ramshackle Dorm acquisition, he had accounted for everything: the ghost problem, the structural integrity, and the Headmaster's ineptitude.
He had even accounted for the Prefect.
The Prefect had signed the most stringent, restrictive contract of his career, agreeing to the terms with a calm, unnerving confidence. There was only one stipulation the Prefect had insisted upon, and it was the only one Azul had not yet logically processed:
The Prefect's private room contains a "shrine" or "alter" that is not to be touched, moved, or disturbed by Octavinelle staff until the final phase of renovation begins.
Azul, ever the pragmatist, had agreed. But the curiosity festered.
His first encounter with the source of this contractual anomaly came during the moving part. Snooping into the prefect's private room to search for the final photographs, he found the place exactly as described. Dusty, sparse, but for one corner.
There, on a small table draped in cloth, was the "alter."
Azul stopped. He was a man of magic and science. He understood the divine nature of the Great Seven, but this was different.
He saw the effigy—a skeletal, regal figure draped in robes, holding a scythe. He saw the candles, the marigolds, the small dishes of candy and fruit. It was beautiful, elaborate, and alien. It did not fit any religious framework he had ever analyzed. It was clearly religious, yet the dominant figure was... Death itself.
He approached it slowly, adjusting his glasses. He read the air of devotion, noting the care taken with the placement of each offering. This was not a frivolous hobby; this was serious. Azul, ever concerned with power, was instantly intrigued. This figure, this "Santa Muerte," was clearly central to the Prefect's strength. He cataloged the encounter: "Anomaly. Source of Strength. Do Not Disturb. Investigate Further."
As the days turned into weeks, and Azul's fascination with the Prefect grew into a full-blown crush, his curiosity about the alter became the perfect vector for his romantic pursuit. He needed data, and he needed proximity.
His questions started tentatively, masked as "cultural analysis."
"Prefect, I have been reviewing our contractual agreement. The term 'Santa Muerte' requires a more complete definition for my records. Is this... a local deity? Is she a minor Fae Queen?"
The Prefect would simply smile, his eyes soft with a unique blend of faith and patience. He would explain, casually and openly. He spoke of folk saints, the unshakeable faith of his home, and the very human need to connect with the divine on a more accessible, non-judgmental level. He explained her nature: amoral, non-judgmental, and equal to all.
This utterly fascinated Azul. A powerful entity that explicitly rejects judgment and welcomes the marginalized? It was the perfect business model! But beyond the logic, it resonated with his own childhood insecurities—the desire to be accepted, flaws and all. He found himself spending hours in the library, attempting to cross-reference "Catholicism" and "Mexico" with the limited materials available.
He started framing his questions as requests for a "cultural exchange."
"Prefect, if I may be so bold, what is the protocol for 'offerings'? I find the ritualistic component highly engaging. As a purely academic exercise, of course."
The Reader would just laugh, his eyes shining with affection for his awkwardness, and patiently explain the significance of the candles, the water, and the different colored robes. Azul started leaving his own "offerings"—tiny, perfectly polished gold coins, not because he believed, but because he saw how happy it made the Reader. It was his unique, analytical form of devotion.
Azul's feelings for the Prefect reached a tipping point as the calendar approached All Saints Day, or Día de los Muertos. He saw the Prefect become particularly focused, working on the alter with immense care and preparing photographs of loved ones.
Azul was overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the tradition—an entire nation dedicating itself to welcoming the dead. He saw not a religious holiday, but an unexploited market demographic.
He cornered the Prefect in the Lounge, glasses gleaming with avarice.
"Prefect! I have had a brilliant breakthrough! This 'Día de los Muertos'—it is universally practiced, universally beloved, and not yet commercialized! We could offer an entire line of custom, miniature ofrendas! We could commercialize 'pan de muerto' for the masses! A 'Memento Mori' subscription box service!"
He stopped, beaming with pride at his genius. The Prefect, however, did not return his enthusiasm.
The air around the Prefect went cold. He didn't yell. He just slowly, deliberately set down the sugar skull they were holding.
You looked at Azul, your face etched with disappointment and a cold sadness that cut him deeper than any insult. You reached out, and with a surprising lack of gentleness, you bonked him hard on the head with the sugar skull (which, thankfully, was only light meringue).
"AZUL!" you hissed, your voice low and laced with anger. "You absolute idiot! This is not a business venture! This is sacred! This is welcoming back my family! You don't try to commercialize a religious holiday, you dishonor the dead! You do not touch this. You do not mock this. Ever."
Azul staggered back, his eyes wide. He was in shock. He was not used to being physically struck, nor was he used to being yelled at with such genuine, righteous fury. He looked at the Prefect's face—the anger was real, and it was aimed at him.
"I... I..." he stammered, rubbing his head. "I... I apologize. I... I did not mean to... dishonor."
"Then learn," you snapped, pointing to the alter. "She is the equalizer, Azul. The non-judgemental one. But I will judge you. And if you ever try to monetize something sacred, you will lose me."
Azul was silent. He looked from your furious face to the serene, skeletal figure on the alter. He finally understood: this was not a contract he could buy. This was faith.
Azul spent the rest of the day in profound, genuine repentance. He didn't come near the Lounge; he spent it in the library, reading anything he could find on the meaning of the holiday.
He returned to Ramshackle that night, bearing a small gift—a simple, elegant glass skull, which he presented to you, bowing his head.
"I apologize, [.....]," he said, his voice soft and stripped of all transactional polish. "I spoke from a place of greed, not respect. I misunderstood the value of the tradition. I have learned that some things... are beyond market price."
You smiled, your anger instantly melting away. You took the gift and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, Azul. You learn fast."
The true resolution came the next day, Día de los Muertos. Azul stood quietly by the alter with you. You were explaining the photographs of your grandparents, your voice soft with love and memory.
Azul listened. He stood there, his glasses reflecting the candle flame, his usual composure traded for an intense, heartfelt respect.
When you were done, he reached into his pocket and placed a tiny, unpolished shell—a shell he had kept since he was a small, bullied mer-boy—at the foot of the altar. It was his most sincere, non-monetary offering.
"She accepts everyone, does she not?" he whispered.
"She does," you confirmed, your eyes soft.
"Then I ask only for her permission," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the figure. "Her permission to be the most devoted suitor for the one who worships her."
He then looked at you, his eyes filled with a love that was finally, truly, non-transactional.
"I love you, [....]. For your strength, for your mind, and for your heart. And if your faith is what keeps you anchored, then I will learn to love her too. No contract required."
A complex, rich, and truly unique "dish"! The kitchen is so honored to have served this Velvet Mousse with Berry Coulis to you.
Thank you, thank you, for such an inspired and educational order. We look forward to your next visit!
— as a mexican, im ashamed i haven’t done this sooner.
taglist. anon list. masterlist.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who, is entranced by the way you speak. it’s not even your accent, it’s the way you can switch between both languages so easily (spanglish). “wait, pásame esa thing— si, that one!” “lowkey, tengo hambre, lets go get something.” he lives for when you slip into spanish without realizing. even if he doesn’t understand, he’s just staring at you with this dumb soft smile like you’re the only person in the room.
MEXICAN GF READER who clowns on him constantly because he cannot roll his R’s properly. he’ll go “carrrrrro” with the weakest attempt ever, and you’re giggling until you realize he’s actually trying. then it’s just 🥺.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who gets protective the second someone flirts with you. suddenly he’s extra handsy— arm around your waist, pulling you closer. you smirk, whispering “irraloooo, estas celoso mi vida?” and he just kisses your temple to avoid answering.
MEXICAN GF READER who loves calling him “amorcito” and “mi vida.” you drop them casually, knowing he’ll go quiet for a second, cheeks red, because he loves the way it sounds coming from you.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who tries to prove himself at family parties by eating whatever your dad puts in front of him. even if it’s the spiciest salsa known to man, he’ll power through like “nah, i’m fine.” meanwhile, his eyes are watering.
⤷ MEXICAN GF READER who passes him a glass of horchata with a smirk. “te dije, menso.” and you rub his back while laughing at him.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who sits with your abuelita even though he only understands half of what she says, nodding and smiling along.
⤷ MEXICAN GF READER who watches the way he respects your family and falls even harder. calling him “el consentido” but you love it more than anything.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who is lowkey obsessed with mexican candy. you gave him a Pulparindo once and now he has a stash in his car and another stash of Lucas in his room
MEXICAN GF READER who side-eyes him when he says “nah, i don’t even like it like that” while literally chewing on your last bag of takis.
⤷ BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who pretends chamoy is too much but his fingers are always stained red from stealing your snacks.
MEXICAN GF READER who teaches chris how to dance. he's awful at first, but when he gets it down, he gets down. every party, the pair is unstoppable on the dance floor; cumbias, huapangos, banda, satevo, even wepa.
⤷ BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO whose favorite thing to do is dance norteñas with you. he thinks they're so beautiful, so intimate, he'll never deny you the opportunity to dance to a norteña.
MEXICAN GF READER who makes chris caldito de pollo whenever he falls sick, rubbing vapuro on his nostrils, making him tea de manzanilla.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who falls asleep with your hand in his, breathing you in like he never wants to let go.
MEXICAN READER GF who color matches your outfits every time you go to one of your family events.
⤷ BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who takes goofy selfies with you in your matching outfits, grinning like a total nerd.
⤷ MEXICAN GF READER who posts half of them on her socials with the caption “güerito lindo caught me looking cute” and watches him groan but laugh.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who steals bites of your food whenever he can. tacos, elote, pan dulce— doesn’t matter, he just wants to share with you.
MEXICAN GF READER who watches and snickers as he drops tamale masa everywhere, muttering “ay dios mio…” in a very white accent under his breath, and you can’t stop laughing.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who always calls you gorgeous, beautiful, and stunning. never letting a day pass without hyping you up.
MEXICAN GF READER who steals the blanket off him and lays her head on his chest, grinning when he sighs dramatically.
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who falls asleep with your hand in his, breathing you in like he never wants to let go.
MEXICAN GF READER who never thought someone outside her world would fit in so easily, but he does. and you look at him during a carne asada, laughing with your cousins, and think, “yeah, él es mi vida.”
BOYFRIEND CHRIS STURNIOLO who respects your culture, your traditions, your family— never making you feel like “too much,” always eager and wanting to learn.
a/n: was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgot, whoops!!
