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evita-shelby · 2 years

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Between the Shadow and the Soul

Chapter 14

Gif by @juliaspiegel

My name is Thomas Shelby. And today, I’m going to kill a man. Today is Derby Day… and the murder will take place this afternoon at the Epsom races… It may be that I am able to escape after the killing. The odds are not good. Which is why I’m writing this letter. I have been forced by agents of the crown to carry out this murder and in the event of my own death I want the following facts to be known. My family are innocent of any involvement.

And while some of them may be guilty of other things I have not shared details of this mission with any of them and no company assets were used. Agents of the crown have joined forces with the pro-treaty Fenians to arrange this murder. I believe the Government intend to falsely blame the anti-treaty IRA. Therefore, the bullet I fire this afternoon will be the starting gun for Civil War in Ireland. The man I have been instructed to kill is Field Marshall Russell, formerly a Black and Tan commander, who committed many atrocities in the county of Cork. There is no remorse in my heart at the prospect of his death. However, the conspiracy behind the killing is cause for international concern. Such is the gravity of my secret mission that after I have served my purpose, I believe they intend to kill me.

I therefore want to name a particular individual in this letter. The agent who has initiated and orchestrated this crime is Major Chester Campbell of the British Secret Intelligence Service. He chose me for this dirty business as an act of vengeance, prompted by a hatred of long standing. In the event of my death, it is imperative he be brought to justice. If you are reading this, then I am dead already. I hope that living, as you do, in a truly free country, you will be able to make the above facts known to the world.

Yours sincerely, Thomas Shelby.’

At five months pregnant Eva looked the same until she turned around. Scared the hell out of people who didn’t know she was pregnant.

May Carleton had sputtered an apology when she last saw her.

“Oh great, I get to meet the King and I’m fat.” Eva complained even if she looked perfectly lovely in a deep rose dress that went well with the deep burgundy of Tommy’s tie.

“It’ll be a great follow up after the last Derby we went to, love, and this time our picture will be on all the papers.” he kisses her temple knowing how she gets when he ruins her lipstick.

“Fucking great, Tommy, now my relatives back home will see how fat I am and remember that I have helped unseat heads of state I meet.” she jokes. Eva had put the fear of God in Solomons by making him lose all the profit they had made with the two shipments. This coupled with Tommy’s bluff had made Sabini lose the war.

“They’ll see you meeting a head of state who you aren’t overthrowing, Evie, that will shock them more than you not telling them you’re pregnant.” Tommy played with a stray curl in her long hair. He liked her long locks, especially when her hair spread behind her like a dark halo when they fucked.

“What did you tell Campbell that made him panic when he saw the horse’s name, Evie?” he asks her as he looks at her smug smile in the vanity mirror.

“That he’d be shot to death by a woman in a phone booth today.” She said sweetly putting on her lucky golden earrings ---blessed by some witchwoman in Oaxaca. “He raped Polly and now Polly is going to kill him like I saw in March. I’ll make sure she isn’t caught.”

“I’d kill him myself if you’d have told me sooner.”

“It took me weeks to get the truth out of Polly, I doubt she would’ve allowed me to tell you sooner.” she put on her second earring and sighed. “Grace will be at the derby, in a last-ditch attempt to ask you to run away to Paris or some bullshit.”

“Why does everyone want to run away to France?.” he avoids the Grace part and goes straight to the France part. Leave it to him to try to get her to forget about the two women who want him so desperately that they are willing to wreck his marriage.

“Tommy.” she says almost annoyed.

“I don’t have feelings for her, Evie, I had been in love with the idea of her, a Grace that wasn’t real.” that feels too genuine to be a lie, but her husband was a very good liar seeing how he fooled Alfie Solomons this morning. “I love the mother of my children and the very real woman who keeps a hand grenade pin as a keepsake.”

He gives her the pin and she put it back into its locked box. The box contained the very essence of Eva’s soul, but to anyone else it was just sentimental garbage locked with the key she wore as a necklace.

Tommy’s bluff couldn’t have been possible without him snooping in her wooden box of sentimental garbage. Although he wonders when does Eva plan on letting him read the visions she had in a desert pilgrimage in 1917. The little leather book had things that terrified her.

“Did May Carleton doing exactly that made you realize that or did you finally arrive to that conclusion yourself?” Eva asked knowing this could set off another round of arguments and Tommy wanted to end his life with his marriage intact it seemed.

“Poor May Carleton, falling for a man who doesn’t exist. At least she admitted defeat with all the grace and dignity a woman should have.” Eva was still pissed that it took her calling Tommy to let her know he was married. And it took one visit with a gift basket for them to become sort of friends. Eva has always been friendly, and May had her uses as did the universe's wish for them to remain allies.

Eva hates that the universe wants her to be a good person. She has to be sweet and kind and never let the women who make her blood boil with rage be her enemies in truth. Eva may have the gift of prophecy, but the universe cursed her to be a better person than she is.

“Try not to kill Grace or make her believe you cursed her, please. I have enough on my plate and I’d rather not give Campbell a chance to get his hands on you.” he wags her finger at her and she dismisses it as if it’s a waste of her energy.

So, what if she made Pancho Villa, Venustiano Carranza and Irene O’Donnal think they were cursed when all she had said was an insult and their name in Nahuatl.

“I’ll be busy threatening Churchill after Polly kills Campbell. It’s going to happen around the time you kill the Field Marshal.” Eva had made a plan. There couldn’t be a witness to his death, and Grace needed leverage against the crown who was suspicious of her and her husband.

“How will he die?”

“Polly will shoot him in a phone booth, like I said, and Churchill will get to hear how he hired a rapist and how I will send President Calles a list of every single British spy in Latin America if he makes me a widow.” She says simply as if that explained everything. “A shame if he doesn’t listen, Florence was such a fun person.”

“What makes you sure the president would kill them all?” Tommy asks as if she hasn’t been clear enough when she told him the bad guys had won.

“Because they are killing all noteworthy rebels, of course they won’t let foreign agents alive.” Eva scoffs and he doesn’t dismiss her fears like he always does. She had that vision of their family, but visions change every moment.

“Churchill will listen to you, Eva.” he doesn’t look too sure about it. “But if he doesn’t make sure this letter reaches New York.” he gives her a letter that gives her the first vision she has seen in months.

“You’ll dig your own grave, but you won’t be the one in it. Two bullets, four men, and two dead who’ll share your grave.” Eva slumps forward in both relief and from the strength of her vision.

“Thank you, Jeremiah, make sure my husband isn’t aware she is here.” Eva smiles politely and thanks the Jamaican man as he leaves. No matter how much one tried to leave this life, no one ever truly left it.

There were few men in her husband’s gang that would put their loyalty to her over their loyalty to Tommy and Reverend Jeremiah Jesus is one of those men. Right now, Grace has to be kept as far away as possible from Tommy and it's not even because Eva fears her husband might take up the blonde’s offer.

“Are you so willing to throw away a good future for a man who no longer wants you?” Eva had no qualms with treating her badly, not after she was given a chance to leave with her dignity intact.

They offer them champagne, but Eva refuses for the both of them. She knows there are two little beings inside Grace and as much as she hates her, Eva doesn’t feel like ruining her future by letting her consume alcohol today.

“I need to hear it from him. I love him ---” she begins as if she has a legitimate reason to wreck two marriages. Grace was a curious creature. She felt entitled to Tommy even after ruining his relationship with his sister, after causing his brother to be beaten up in prison and then trying to make his dreams crumble while she claimed to love him.

“You say that as if I don’t! Do you really think he would marry for convenience? He asked me to marry him because he loves me and I love him and that is that.” Eva accepts the tonic water and continues. “Tommy actually did things properly, you know, asked my uncle and my grandmother for permission to take me on a date. He took me to the derby two years ago, got me my first dress that wasn’t black for mourning, and right in that hall we had our first kiss.” she points to where the higher paying patrons like them dance to a jazz band. “You know I was willing to leave and die in my home country, but he decided that he’d rather we elope a week after our second date instead of having a proper wedding.”

“You’d do anything to keep him, wouldn’t you.” Grace said as if Tommy was the type to drop everything from his business and his pregnant wife to be with her for ‘love’.

“Do you really think he’d leave with you to raise another man’s children when he could raise his own son in the mansion we’ll move into tomorrow?” Eva keeps her voice at a moderate level even if she feels like screaming at her. “Give me one fucking reason that isn’t your so-called love, and I’ll let Tommy tell you to your face that he doesn’t love you.”

Grace doesn’t say anything and leaves in her anger, no doubt looking for Tommy. Eva pays for the drinks and smiles in triumph; Grace won’t be able to see Tommy as he’s already killing Henry Russell. Lizzie will only be frazzled a little, but nothing a few drinks won’t cure.

“If it isn’t the elusive Mrs. Shelby. For a moment I thought how could an Italian beauty like you could fall so low as to marry a gypsy racketeer?”

Sabini might think himself today’s victor, and Eva has to fight the urge to piss on his parade.

“Mr. Sabini, a pleasure to meet you. I hope you are prepared to lose more than your motorcar this year.”

#thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #between the shadow and the soul #ocappreciation #oc appreciation

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pengychan · 4 years

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[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 20

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Well, time for Coco to show up.

***

“What does it mean, you have a date?”

“I find your incredulous tone more than a little insulting.”

Sofía’s own tone is light, but Ernesto knows her well enough to tell she is not entirely joking there, and wisely decides to drop the matter. “All right, fine. I guess I’ll have to find someone else who is up to spend an enjoyable evening.”

“Oh yes,” Sofía mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I am sure you have men and women lined up waiting for the chance to ride your dick.”

“Of course I--”

“Come on, it’s obvious you don’t,” Sofía cuts him off. Ernesto can vaguely hear her TV going in the background. “You must be on your last leg to call me now. Desperate, desperately horny, or both. I’m guessing both.”

All right, so that hit close home, but he has precisely no intention to admit as much aloud. To her least of all. “I just figured I’d be generous to you, is all.”

“Clearly,” is the deadpan reply.

“But since you have no taste, I will make someone else’s night.”

“Right. Good luck with that,” she chuckles, and pauses. “... Seriously, though, how are you?”

Ernesto bits his lower lip before glancing out of the window. It has rained most of the day, but now there is only a drizzle. On days like that, they’d-- no. No, he shouldn’t go there. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“... Better, either way. I’m doing much better.”

“That’s good to know. All right, maybe we can meet for lunch tomorrow. Over lunch break, the place across the street from my salon?”

“Sure. Can’t wait to hear all about your date,” Ernesto says, a slightly mocking tone on the last word, and ends the call. And then… he proceeds to call no one else.

It’s not that he’s run out of phone numbers to call or women to contact on social media, but so far he’s had depressingly little success. As it turns out, disappearing on every fling for a full year without so much a message and then just reappearing with no explanation given - much less a convincing one - is not a winning strategy to get them back in bed with him. Who’d have known.

Well, one did say yes, so they met at her place - only for her to step out, smack him across the face, and then go back in without a word. Ernesto had no idea what he may have possibly done to deserve it, but he knew better than to ask: there might just be a long, exhaustive answer to that question and he didn’t want to hear it.

With a sigh, Ernesto leans back on his couch and checks Instagram. His followers count is going up and up, especially after he and Héctor appeared on TV, and maybe he could go looking for someone interesting among them… but each time he opens a profile, he can barely focus on it at all.

All right, this is not working. I need something else.

He downloads Tinder again - when did he uninstall it? - and logs in, determined to give it a go. An hour and an undefined number of left swipes later, he briefly muses whether he should try again with Grindr. In the end, he throws his phone aside and leans back with a sigh.

Back to his old life, he said.

No strings but those of my guitar, he said.

Easier said than done.

***

This is the first time, as far as she can remember, that Imelda does not celebrate Día de los Muertos in Santa Cecilia.

It’s a simple matter of common sense, really: eight months into the pregnancy, getting on a plane to Oaxaca sounds like an all-around bad idea.

“I mean, if she’s born on the plane, she might get free flights for life with the company,” Héctor joked when they first discussed their options. “I heard it happened before.”

A lifetime of free flights sounds like a good perk, Imelda has to admit, but not worth birthing her child thirty-five thousand feet up in the air, possibly without doctors and with only a curtain separating her from the rest of the passengers - who, she suspects, would be less than thrilled about the disruption to their flight.

The alternatives, a long car drive or God forbid an even longer bus ride, were entirely out of question. In the end, the only practical solution was for her parents to come over, so that they could spend those days together in Mexico City. They set off that morning, and Héctor is preparing to go pick them up at the airport.

They’re running later than expected because the flight was delayed, which hopefully won’t be too much of a problem for Ernesto. He’s going to see his parents for Día de los Muertos - ironic, that the one year they’re not going to Santa Cecilia, he goes - and he’s asked to borrow their car, so that he can go with his dogs instead of leaving them with someone else.

“Didn’t appreciate me being gone last time I tried,” he’s said, causing Héctor to chuckle.

“Could leave them with us, they’re used to being with us.”

“... I think you’ve got your house full as it is, amigo.”

There was a brief silence, which had been broken before it could turn sad, and of course they had agreed to let him borrow the car as soon as they’d used it to pick up her parents.

“Do you need me to get you something while I wait for them, mi amor?”

“Yes, thank you. I left you a list on the table.”

It is a long list, mostly items with enough sugar in them to sustain a small army, but Héctor makes no comment; he picks it up, just barely manages to get his facial expression under control before his eyebrows can shoot all the way up to his hairline, and steps over to kiss her. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck.”

“The stuff you need isn’t that hard to find.”

“I was referring to driving my parents.”

A chuckle, another kiss on the bridge of her nose. “Your father’s fine,” he says, politely adding nothing about her mother before he leaves. Imelda glances out of the window to see him go… and Ernesto arrives. They stop to talk by the gate, Héctor probably apologizing for the delay in giving him the car, Ernesto shrugging in a way that is probably meant to convey it’s not a problem, he’s not especially eager to get going towards Santa Cecilia anyway.

And yet he’s going. That’s… odd, even taking into account the reconciliation with his parents which he still describes as a work in progress. Ernesto never cared all that much for the tradition, and as far as Imelda knows he never made an ofrenda of his own. He’d be more likely to go out partying, and pick up someone to spend the night with. How many times has she seen him from that same window, heading to the entrance with a man or a woman at his arm? More than she can count, although admittedly that has not happened… in a while.

Ever since things became serious between the three of us. And even after it ended, did either of us see him coming home with a date? Did he bring up a fling while talking to me or Héctor, brag about a conquest?

They haven’t and he didn’t. As far as Imelda is aware, Ernesto hasn’t been with anyone in the past few months.

So much for bouncing back, she thinks, and lets the curtain drop with a sigh while trying to ignore, with very little success, the part of her that has the audacity to be relieved at the notion.

***

“Hey! How are you doing?”

“Congrats on the album! Saw you on TV!”

“What about Héctor and Imelda? They’re not here, is their baby born yet?”

“Tell them I said hi!”

“Tell them to visit! Will they come to have her christened in the parish?”

“Hey, can I have an autograph so I can sell it?”

The walk to the cemetery and back - he promised Héctor to have a look at his parents’ grave for him, give it a clean-up, put on fresh flowers - was short, but it seemed to last so much longer with so many people recognizing him and stopping him for a chat. It’s not usually something he’d argue against, but there is a sting every time they ask about Héctor and Imelda and whether or not the baby is born yet.

He really hopes said sting can dull into something more bearable quickly, because it isn’t long until Coco is born and he’s expected to stand in as her godfather, which he’d really like to be able to do without feeling like something is squeezing his heart.

It will pass. It must pass, he thought, and took care to walk back to his parents’ home through a different route with fewer people. Walking back in to be greeted by his dogs did help a little. His father did mutter that they are more like guinea pigs, but at least he appreciates the fact they cannot climb on the ofrenda to steal the offerings. Though not for lack of trying.

The ofrenda at Ernesto’s family home is rather one-sided - which is to say, only her mother’s family is on it. Her parents, both dead by the time he was born, a couple of aunts, grandparents and so on. Plenty of García, a couple of Martinez, and not a single de la Cruz among them.

Then again, it’s not a name that comes with a lot of history attached; it simply filled in a blank space on the birth certificate of a child surrendered at birth.

“You ever thought of looking for her?” Ernesto asks suddenly, while his mother is away to get more flowers and his father is watching the food on the stove. He’s drinking some kind of bland, alcohol free beer that Ernesto has found himself drinking as well out of solidarity.

Estéban glances at him, a little confused, but comprehension dawns when his gaze moves to the doorway, onto the ofrenda in the next room over. He looks at the photos that are there, but mostly at those that are not. “... A couple of times. Never tried, though.”

“Why not?”

“She didn’t want me. I had better things to do than chasing someone who didn’t want me.”

Ernesto thinks back of the night he was kicked out and swore he was never, ever coming back. He thinks of what he desperately wishes he could have back, but cannot. He smiles bitterly. “I understand.”

“... I know you do.”

A brief silence, and once again it’s Ernesto to break it. “Might have had reasons. Might be that she wanted you, but-- couldn’t. Maybe things happened.”

We need to… to make some changes, Héctor said when breaking him the news. Even if we don’t like it.

Ernesto half-expects a scoff, dismissal, but what he gets is a thoughtful hum; he faintly wonders if his father discussed this while in therapy, but he knows better than to ask. He swore his mamá he would pretend not to know about the therapy part and, unlike her, he plans to keep his word.

“Guess it’s possible. Makes no difference, though. Did well enough regardless.”

Except for the part where he was an alcoholic for a couple of decades during which he also kicked out his only son because he happened to like dick, Ernesto thinks, and the part where he had in general the emotional capacity of an uncooked tortilla and the temper of a rabid coyote. But he supposes that, aside for those neglectable details, he hasn’t done too bad.

“Could have done worse,” he concedes.

Could have killed me, I guess.

“... Don’t patronize me. I know I haven’t been perfect--”

“Understatement.”

“-- but I am trying. And I don’t think digging in the past would help.” Estéban de la Cruz finishes his can of non-alcoholic beer in a long swig. “I was an asshole. No point in trying to pin that on my mamá not wanting me.”

That wasn’t precisely where Ernesto was going, but to be entirely fair he is not sure what point he truly had in asking his father something so personal, so in the end he just nods and finishes his own beer. If his father is wondering why he even asked he makes no mention of it, and to be entirely honest it is a relief.

While he appreciates his efforts there are some conversations they are simply Not Having, and Ernesto’s personal business with his best friend and his wife is one of them.

“I’ll go take a photo of the ofrenda,” he finally says, causing Estéban to raise an eyebrow.

“A photo? Why?”

“To put on Instagram.”

“Is it that website your mother hounded for photos of you?”

Ernesto hums, the notion of his mother going through his Instagram account and all the implications of it not really registering in his brain. There is an unread message flashing on the screen, distracting him - Héctor.

Everything good over there? Your mamá feeding you?

Ah, right, he was supposed to get in touch after visiting his parents' grave. He was so busy trying to avoid people he knew on the way back, he entirely forgot to.

I’m putting up a kilo a day. All good, he writes back, and sends over a photo of the grave, all cleaned up, with flowers and all. Ricardo and Emilia smile from the photo on the headstone, and it’s hard to tell whose smile Héctor’s resembles most.

Ernesto finds himself smiling faintly, too, as Héctor replies. Gracias. I owe you a favor.

You owe me nothing.

A drink, then.

I’ll take that, Ernesto writes, and puts the phone away without snapping any photos of the ofrenda, feeling just a little better.

***

If he had to describe that Día de los Muertos, Héctor supposes ‘bittersweet’ is the word for it.

It’s odd, not being in Santa Cecilia for it. Imelda is there with him, of course, as is her family, and there is an ofrenda in their living room - but not getting to visit his parents’ graves on the day is an odd sort of sting. He’d feel guilty, if they didn’t have excellent reasons not to travel that year.

Héctor is rather sure his mother would hit him over the head with a wooden spoon if he so much suggested putting his daughter at risk of being born on a plane or a bus in order to visit, and that helps. It also helps that Ernesto is there, looking after their grave in his stead. He is a good friend - the best friend he could have asked for, now more than ever before, and he’s glad he didn’t lose him. It’s good to have him back. And yet… and yet.

Gracias. I owe you a favor.

You owe me nothing.

A drink, then.

I’ll take that.

Héctor smiles a little, and… doesn’t click the screen off just yet.

Only to drop the phone with a yelp when Imelda’s voice rings out right beside him.

“All good back-- hey! Careful!” Her hands shoots out and somehow manages to catch his phone in mid-air, sparing him the utter pain of having to replace the screen or maybe the entire phone. She sighs. “Try to make this one last longer than three months,” she mutters, and glances at the screen. A moment of silence and then she gives a small, soft smile that Héctor suspects mirrors the one on his face only moments ago.

“Nice of him to take care of it.”

“Yes. We could have him over-- for dinner, or something. When he comes back.”

“Of course.” The smile on Imelda’s face fades a little, and she gives him back the phone. “Would be nice to have him over. We’ll tell Óscar and Felipe to be somewhere else for the evening. Cinema or something. Or maybe they can start getting some furniture in the room they’re renting,” she adds.

Imelda is in equal parts amused and somewhat concerned by her brothers’ decision to move into a room in a house a few blocks away - their bid for freedom, as they call it, though they are still very close by in case any help is needed once Coco is born. Héctor likes having them around, but he cannot deny he looks forward to having the apartment all for Imelda and himself in the few weeks left before Coco’s arrival.

And right now, it doesn’t escape him that she admitted she’d rather not have them there when Ernesto comes to visit. He glances at her, a mute question, and Imelda bites her lower lip. “... In case he needs to talk,” she says. Héctor nods. Of course - of course, it makes sense: if there are things yet unspoken, and God knows there are, they must be discussed without anyone else listening in. That need for secrecy is part of the reason why their arrangement couldn’t continue.

Maybe the twins will understand, Héctor thinks, and he finds he actually believes they would. They’re young, open-minded in a way their parents - and most in Santa Cecilia - are not. Still, he doesn’t voice that thought: it would mean discussing the possibility that maybe, just maybe…

“I’ll tell him to bring a bucket of ice cream for you,” Héctor says instead, and Imelda laughs, smacking his arm lightly before she returns in the next room over where her parents and brothers are. Héctor clicks the phone’s screen on, and follows her - knowing full well that an honest conversation is just delayed, and wondering who will wind up cracking first.

***

In the end, they never do find out who among them may have cracked first. The dinner never happens, because something else does crack right before they sit at the dinner table.

Break, more like.

And Imelda’s waters were not supposed to break for another two weeks at least, as Héctor repeats no less than seventeen times during the car ride to the hospital.

“We’re almost there, mi amor - stay calm, all right? Stay calm,” he is now saying to his remarkably calm wife, not at all calm himself. Ernesto chooses not to remark on that and keeps his eyes on the road instead.

All right, so it’s time. This is happening.

He’s had complicated feelings over the upcoming birth of Héctor and Imelda’s baby - his goddaughter, it’s easier if he thinks of her as his goddaughter - and he’s been bracing himself for her arrival as you do for an emergency landing: knowing that it’s coming no matter your feelings on the matter, that the plane must land and hopefully all will be well once it does.

Now, however, everything is moving so fast he has no time to think, much less to feel anything other than urgency. One moment he’d been sitting at the dinner table, one moment Imelda had emerged from the next room over, pale but in full control, telling them it was time for her to go to the hospital. Héctor sprinted to retrieve the small suitcase she had prepared beforehand while Ernesto rushed to get the car, and he’s now in the process of weaving through traffic and ignoring the GPS’ suggestions in favor of a route that he knows will be somewhat less congested.

There is a groan, a sharper breath, and he glances in the rear view mirror. “You all right there?”

Imelda looks back at him through the mirror, and for just a moment he can see how pale she is, how truly concerned for this monumental, frightening task ahead of her - deliver a new life into the world. And then she manages a smile.

“Just cursing over all that good food growing cold back home. The dogs and Pepita must be helping themselves to it. I won't be cleaning that mess,” she mutters, and Ernesto laughs, taking a turn. Even Héctor starts laughing - far more high-pitched than usual and somewhat frightened, but laughter it is. Imelda manages a chuckle before hissing again, a hand resting against her belly just as Ernesto takes another turn and gets right into the hospital’s parking lot, barely slowing down.

Imelda takes in a deep breath before opening the door. “I can walk to the entrance - they will be waiting for us, I called them before leaving,” she says, and steps outside. Héctor is immediately by her side, suitcase in hand, offering her his arm. He turns to look at Ernesto, eyes huge.

It’s happening, those eyes say. I am about to be a father, they say. I’m terrified.

But when he speaks, Héctor says none of those things. “Thank you,” he tells Ernesto. His voice is calmer, but the grip on the suitcase remains so tight his knuckles are almost white. There is something stuck in Ernesto’s throat, and he forces himself to swallow it; the weight seems to settle in his chest. Ernesto clears his throat before speaking.

“Well, someone with a still functioning brain had to drive. Go in, I’ll-- I’ll park the car and get in the waiting room. Are you going to, uh, go in the delivery room, or…?”

“He’d better,” Imelda mutters, and there is more snickering. The rock-hard thing in Ernesto’s chest melts away a little. “Can you let my brothers know?" she adds. "They’ll tell our parents. I’m ready to bet they’ll be on the first plane back.”

“Of course,” Ernesto replies, and watches them walk to the entrance before he sighs and goes looking for a parking spot. It is only as he steps in the waiting room and reaches for his phone that he realizes there is a slight problem.

He has absolutely no idea what Imelda’s brothers’ phone numbers even are.

***

It is amazing, Imelda thinks, how much a newborn can look like a grouchy old man.

“Mi amor, she’s beautiful.” Héctor’s voice is a little nasal as he still blinks away tears, cheek resting on top of her head and eyes fixed on the baby in her arms.

In Imelda’s opinion she is most decidedly not beautiful - newborns just out of the birth canal, she finds, are some of the ugliest things one can imagine, skull still misshapen and features flattened - but she has no doubt whatsoever that Héctor absolutely means it. Must be the tears of joy, or love goggles, or both. Either way, it gets a tired smile out of her.

“Well worth the hassle,” she says, and oh, she means it. Labor was exhausting, if relatively short, and she wouldn’t wish the pain that had followed to her worst enemy - but for the tiny thing in her arms, blinking blearily up at them with the expression of someone who’s just had the worst day, Imelda knows she’d do it all over again. She strokes a tiny hand with her thumb just as Héctor speaks.

“Hola, Coco,” he says, so much tenderness in his voice it almost hurts. “I’m your papá. Actually, wait, more importantly-- this is your mamá. She made you.”

Like she’s a pair of shoes, Imelda thinks, and chuckles. She cannot recall being this happy with any of her creations up to now. “Your papá helped,” she says, kissing Coco’s forehead. “Don’t ask how until you’re older.”

“Wha-- oh! No no no, don’t ask at all!” Héctor exclaims, causing Coco’s eyes to shift back to him. She blinks, and Imelda can almost believe it’s out of surprise. “You’re just here, I’m not ready to think about giving you the Talk! Best if you ask your mamá about it, really. And about shoemaking. But if you want to learn how to make some good music-- what is it?” he asks, blinking, when Imelda bursts laughing.

She cannot answer right away: she just laughs and laughs and laughs, causing Coco to start wailing, as though to join in, while Héctor looks at them both, saying nothing, taking in everything with a wide smile on his face.

***

More. More coffee.

Ernesto lets his last few coins drop into the machine, rubbing his face with his free hand. It’s been… three hours? Feels like more. There hasn’t been much for him to do, other than calling his mother with the odd request of trying to contact Imelda’s parents - he has no clue what their number may be, maybe she can find out or even visit them, they’re in the same damn town - to let them know what’s going on.

For the most part he’s been sitting in the waiting room, with a growing pile of empty plastic cups on the floor in front of him. He goes to sit again, drinks the bitter hot coffee in one gulp, adds the cup to the pile, and leans back.

He tells himself there is no reason to be nervous, of course giving birth cannot be done in a pinch, but the more he waits the more uneasy he feels. What if something went wrong, two weeks early shouldn't be cause for concern, but-- no, surely Héctor would come tell him-- or would he stay in, unable to leave her side while… while…

“ERNESTO!”

Héctor’s cry and the bang of the door slamming open causes several people in the waiting room and Ernesto to jump several feet up in the air, all hair standing on end, letting out a shriek he’ll barely manage to pass off as a grito later.

He has barely enough time to land again before Héctor throws his arms around him, laughing and crying, trying to lift him and failing miserably, dragging him into a clumsy half-twirl. “She’s here! Coco is here! She’s beautiful, the most beautiful baby girl you’ll ever see!”

Something aches just a little, a part of him that is still bitter and spiteful over being cast aside for her sake, but Héctor pulls back with such a wide smile it’s near impossible not to smile back. And he does.

“Imelda…?”

“She’s fine, she was amazing. Resting now, but we can visit later. Oh! They’ll take Coco to the nursery, there is a window - want to come take a look at your goddaughter?

Ah, yes. I have a goddaughter now.

The ache grows duller, and Ernesto’s smile grows a bit brighter. “I would like that,” he says.

And means it.

***

A/N: Imelda's reaction to Coco is kinda based off my grandmother's when she first saw my brother a hour after birth. He was ugly. Just, so damn ugly. All she could say looking at the crib was "... so, it's this one?", clearly hoping to be told that no, it was the next one over. And while grandma was never known to be the nurturing type, when an Italian grandmother cannot manage to pretend her newborn grandchild is cute, you know it's one ugly baby.

***

[Back]

[Next]

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #hector rivera #coco #mind the gap

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mariangelpena · 4 years

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hello, everyone! my name’s leonie and it’s so lovely to be here. this here is my precious little bean mariangel who is a highkey squish obsessed with all things glittery and pink who’s trying to be a #doctor. my discord is ( emeravdes#9932 ) if you’re interested in plotting stuff w/her or just swinging by to chat! i have to go to bed because it’s like... midnight but i’ll be around tomorrow. later today. anywho! here’s more on mariangel! --- @frostfordstart

full name: mariangel itzel peña

nicknames: mari, mar, angel/angelito (mainly called this via her parents or her grandparents)

birthday: october 20th

current age: twenty two

sexuality: heterosexual, heteroromantic

personality (+): sweet, innocent, compassionate, brave, organized, cheerful, studios, hardworking, honest, grateful

personality (-): nosy, emotional, private, self-concious, assertive, gullible, passive

BRIEF FAM BAM BACKGROUND

mariangel is the youngest and fourth child of victor and marcella peña - both of which have lived in frostford for their entire lives. marcella’s family moved from tulum, mexico when marcella was still a baby and they spent a lot of time travelling around the US to different states before they found their way to frostford by pure change.

however, victor’s family had a bit of a longer story. mariangel’s grandfather - miguel angel - moved to the united states from oaxaca mexico in search of a better life for his family which consisted of his wife, Rosa, and their seven children. one of which was victor. after waiting almost five years for miguel angel to come back to mexico, rosa took matters into her own hands and chose to make the dangerous trip to the united states with her seven children in toe. thus came the peña family settling into frostford and branching out and establishing families of their own.

victor and marcella met while victor was in the army corps of engineers and eventually married and began to have their family. first came rafael and magdalena, followed by the adoption of their third son antonio and lastly the birth of mariangel. (names for her siblings are all placeholders since there’s a wanted connection out for them & calling them ‘my brother’ each time she mentions them would be... chaotic)

the peñas have a bit of a strange dynamic in the sense that some days they act closer than anything in the world whereas there are other days where they actually act like they hate each other. often times this makes mariangel feel like her siblings don’t like her - something she carries to this day.

THE EARLY YEARS, BAY-BEE

you know when a baby is born and they don’t really cry? just are a good baby who just wants to cuddle and be a ray of sunshine to their parents? that was the kind of baby mariangel was. the kind of child she was.

by the time that she was in kindergarten, she was the little girl who would go up to everyone she met and say hello, ask them how their day was going and then proceed to tell them about something she’d done during the day. the friendliest bean with the most infectious spirit.

was totally that little girl who followed around all her older siblings and cousins wanting to play or find out what they were doing. the nosiest nugget tbh.

however, when she turned 6, her parents told her that they were going to be moving and it was essentially something that crushed her heart at such an early age. she didn’t want to leave her friends behind and other people she’d come to know. she threw a whole ass fit the day they had set to move that victor had to find a way to get her tuckered out and asleep in order to get on the way.

little did she know that she’d be living in eight different states for the next ten years

more on that is over HERE.

over the course of the time she was away and bouncing from city to city, state to state, mariangel was actually very lonely? she spent a majority of her childhood without a single friend to call her own because she slowly began to realize that any time she got attached to people, they would soon be moving and she’d have to leave them behind again. so she figured, what was the point when nothing felt genuine? when nobody would even matter after six months to a years time? all she really could do was keep as much contact w/anyone from frostford that still wanted to be her friend.

to make up for the lack of friends, marcella actually chose to put mariangel into dance lessons and eventually into cheerleading so that her daughter would have something that would make her feel like it wasn’t all bad.

however, due to her more isolated nature, she developed a strong love for reading which brought her down the extensive path which made her the hopeless case that she is today. she dreams of things that she could never have, lives in a bubble of dreams never spoken and wants nothing more than to continue to live in that fantasy since sometimes it’s the most excitement she gets in the day.

100000% a hopeless romantic and she blames all the books that she read that made her think that all love was special. will 100% try to play matchmaker if you let her and she’s surprisingly very good at it.

ALONG CAME HIGH SCHOOL

it was when she was 13 and living in pennsyvlania that she had her first ever boyfriend and it was the same person that she dated up until she was about to turn 16 and was told by her father that they were finally moving back to frostford. for good. no more moving, no more fear of losing things.

naturally, mariangel was ECSTATIC.

things were a little hard in the beginning because she didn’t exactly feel like she could connect with any of her classmates who’d grown up together. this left her quiet and shy because she felt like an outsider for quite a long time until one day she had a talk with her mother and proceeded to change it around. she chose to be who she had grown to be and soon enough, the bubbly girl with charm and infectious spirit came to the surface as she lost herself in all the things she loved.

dance, cheerleading, all possible clubs that would work within a set schedule as well as signing up for anything in school that needed volunteers like blood drives, etc. all of this while maintaining her grades as high as possible.

because of all these things, she soon rose among the ranks of high school and earned herself popularity that made her pretty well known. this only became more well known when she chose to befriend people who were considered to be ‘lower on the food chain’ as they say in movies. more importantly, the fact that she was the girl who made it very clear that she wouldn’t hesitate to slap someone if she saw them picking on someone she knew.

actually, she’d do it to anyone who chose to bully people. she tried to avoid it by being stern while maintaining an innocent expression but when push comes to shove, slap goes smack against face!

NOW LETS TALK ‘BOUT BOIS

mariangel had a total of two relationships in high school and they all were kind of led into the ground by herself and not exactly knowing who to pick in terms of who she dated. she’d always go for people who were never as invested in the relationship as she was and didn’t want to put in any effort to see that it became something genuine.

ultimately, in both relationships she ended up breaking her own heart because she had this preconceived idea of what a relationship should be and whenever things started to feel different to that, she just didn’t know how to handle things. which basically made her think that she was just crap at having them.

by the end of high school, mariangel had become someone that was very well known and liked and like said earlier! she was a smart cookie through and through and she was in the top 10% of her graduating class, ranking at a humble spot of #5.

THE COLLEGE YEARS

she could have easily gone to a fancy school since she was offered several scholarships but ultimately, mariangel settled on going to the university of alabama tuscaloosa because she could NOT bring herself to go somewhere far away after essentially doing that all her life.

and it made it easy to go and visit family/friends since the drive wasn’t so horrible.

first thing she did when she got to college? make sure that her roommate was sane.

second thing that she did when she got to college? try out for the university of alabama spirit squad because cheer was very much her life and she wasn’t going to live through those years without being in a cheer uniform.

after all that was settled, mariangel did what any sensible girl that grew up obsessed with elle woods and barbie who wanted the full blown college experience would do; find a sorority that she felt would best work for her. and she did when she found kappa kappa gamma.

but despite being someone that always knew what she wanted to do, mariangel didn’t actually know what she wanted to study when she first got to college because initially, she had thought of making into a nursing program. her advisor told her that biology would be the best route since it fell in line with the medical profession which she was aiming for. within six months, mariangel had actually decided that she wanted to actually go to medical school after watching this documentary about doctors without borders.

after some googling different specialties in pediatrics, she figured at first the she would just be a general pediatrician until she found neonatology aka the doctors that take care and save newborn babies. which is ultimately where she wants to get to in her med school journey.

BUT ALL THAT STUFF ASIDE!

college was a very fun time for mariangel because she was able to do things that she would have never had the chance to do before. she’d always been a goodie two shoes in a sense and she somehow managed to stop caring so much about rules and just live her life.

10/10 spent a lot of time with frat boys and probs hooked up with her fair share until she met one guy who truly made her heart flutter. her one and only college boyfriend whom she dated for just about three years. Things didn’t necessarily end on a high note so it’s just something that mari thinks about to this day and blames herself for it going to hell even though it wasn’t.

PRESENT DAY

the smallest section lol cause there isn’t much to say here

mari is currently finishing her first year of medical school and spends a lot of her extra time studying because she doesn’t plan to put her summer to waste. it was suggested that she focus on remembering all that she has learned and she won’t forget those wise words.

she’s also working at custard’s last time. if she isn’t your favorite employee, then that’s a shame ‘cause then you’re not getting free toppings on her behalf.

she’s worked at custard’s since she was 16 and she thinks about the day where she has to leave to focus on school a lot ‘cause she thinks of olive as a second mom.

FUN FACTS

her name is combination of her mothers name and her grandfathers name - mar + i + angel = mariangel. her middle name itzel is taken from ancient mayan name for the goddess of the moon which also translates to ‘she is a rainbow’.

she has a pet ferret named blossom and she’s her pride and joy. if she doesn’t have blossom in a small loungefly backpack with her tiny head just sitting on her shoulder, blossom is probs being too feisty so she stayed home.

her favorite thing to do when she isn’t studying or hanging out with friends is watching paranomal videos on youtube since she wholeheartedly believes they’re real and nothing will change her mind.

her phone kind of lives on do not disturb since she got into med school and only has it set to put calls through from people she has in her favorites. so tbh if she ever answers your text within 10 minutes, you’re probably very special and she puts a lot of value into those conversations.

THE MOM FRIEND TO ALL TWENTY-SOMETHINGS WILLING TO HAVE ONE. will give you hardcore facts while also trying to wrap you in a blanket. and once she moms you? you’ll never get rid of her.

has a collection of disney themes precious moments figurines & loungefly backpacks. anything disney, she wants it.

you’ll almost always find her wearing some kind of bow or scrunchie in her hair. she quite literally has such a collection that she dedicates a whole drawer in her room just for her scrunchie collection.

she has a weird obsession with legally blonde. please don’t talk to her about that movie if you don’t want her to present a full blow ted talk about both films and the musical.

she is quite literally frostford’s number one source when it comes to tiktok dances and nobody can change my mind. like this girl knows literally every single dance on that app as well as the ones that are done by people just trying to vibe.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

i have a page set up over ( here ) but we’re gonna include some here while we’re at it!

HER SIBLINGS! they’re currently a wanted connection so pls come to me <3

best friends! people that were always there for her and she’s been there for through anything and everything.

high school exes!

that college ex!

people that don’t like her! mari tends to live anyone and everyone but maybe something happened and suddenly no more friendship.

family friends!

#about.#out of cookies.

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skippyv20 · 4 years

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Meghan sure knows how to holiday

SHE’S travelled the world, and got the Instagram posts to prove it. And everywhere Meghan Markle goes, the world watches.

The Meghan Markle effect has thrust her favourite destinations — of which there are many — into the spotlight.

“My mom was a travel agent, so off-the-beaten-path travel has always been a big part of my life,” Prince Harry’s fiancee told Allure back in 2014.

Between travel for filming, press trips, and secret getaways with Prince Harry, the soon-to-be-royal has clocked up a whole lot of air miles, with recent itineraries checking off many of the world’s hottest destinations.

Here are 10 of the top destinations that should be on your radar if you’re a fan of the royals, or Suits, or of incredible travel experiences.

NORWAY

After publicly announcing they were dating, Prince Harry whisked Markle off to Norway in January 2017. The loved-up couple stayed at Tromvik Lodge, known as a spectacular Northern Lights and whale watching destination, near Tromso. It’s available to rent on Airbnb from about $500 per night.

BOTSWANA

Forget the palace. Meghan and Harry are as at home in a tent as a castle. “I managed to persuade her to come and join me in Botswana, and we camped out with each other under the stars,” the prince revealed during their engagement interview. The royal-in-waiting celebrated her 36th birthday with the prince at a bush camp — albeit a pretty luxurious one (we’re talking $760 per person per night during peak season). The Meno A Kwena camp is perched above Botswana’s Boteti River, near the Makgadikgadi Pans salt plains.

ICELAND

The “it” destination of the moment, Iceland has celebs — and plebs — raving and Markle is no exception. “You’re so pretty, and really nice too. Just my type,” Markle wrote of Iceland on Instagram during a new year visit at the start of 2016. She visited Hafnarfjordur, south of Reykjavik, known as “the town of elves”. The town is said to be home to one of the country’s largest settlements of “hidden folk”, with many Icelanders believing the traditional folklore.

JAMAICA

Markle has been a frequent visitor to the Caribbean island nation from a young age. “I must have been about ten years old when we visited the slums of Jamaica,” she wrote on her now defunct lifestyle and travel blog, The Tig, of an early, eye-opening experience with her mother. Her first wedding, to Hollywood producer Trevor Engelson, also took place on a Jamaican beach. And she accompanied Prince Harry to the wedding of his friend Tom Inskip at Montego Bay, in March, with the royal couple reportedly checking into one of the luxury villas (starting from about $2000 a night) at the exclusive Round Hill Hotel & Villas.

MEXICO

Another country where Markle has experienced both the luxury life as well as the reality of travel in developing world is Mexico. Her father now calls northern Mexico home, and Markle has spent time relaxing in the resort town of Tulum. And as a youngster, she remembers “taking trips to Oaxaca, Mexico where I saw children play in the dirt roads, peddling chiclets for a few extra pesos to bring home,” she wrote on The Tig. “My mother raised me to be a global citizen, with eyes open to sometimes harsh realities.”

CANADA

Although Markle was born and raised in LA, Canada has become her second home, with Suits filmed there and Prince Harry having spent time with her there. Although she was based in Toronto, she’s also spent time on the west coast, with Vancouver a favourite haunt. “Dear Vancouver, I really really love you,” she posted on Instagram. “So many good memories in this city,” she added. Squamish, north of Vancouver, also found its way into her heart during filming there, as a place “so pretty it hurts”.

MALTA

Ibiza? Check. Positano? Check. Greece, Croatia, Capri — check, check and check. Markle loves the sun, sea and islands of the Mediterranean (let’s face it, who doesn’t?). She spent a month in Italy and Spain in 2016, inspired by the book Eat Pray Love. But perhaps Markle’s favourite Mediterranean destination is Malta, where her great-great grandmother was born. Markle spent time there in 2015 and told Maltese site LittleRock: “I’ve been fortunate to travel all over the world and I love a different cultural experience wherever you go, but to come somewhere where you so quickly settle in to feeling welcomed is really special; it’s this Maltese hospitality that is really special to the place.”

AFGHANISTAN

Markle’s travel interests are more diverse than just beaches and posh hotels. She even named her most memorable travel experience as a trip to Afghanistan to support the troops in 2014. “The experience of being in a war zone was both sobering and illuminating. It made me feel endlessly grateful for how fortunate we are to have such blessed lives here,” she told Canadian Living.

RWANDA

Humanitarian work is one of the driving forces behind Markle’s travels, and she’s visited Rwanda twice. “Missing my time in #rwanda and eager to go back soon,” she posted on Instagram after a visit with World Vision in 2016. Writing for Elle UK after the trip, she admitted that “when I share my photos with my friends, they note that I never look happier than I do when I am on field missions. It’s a different smile than the one for the paparazzi — it doesn’t require any retouching.”

AUSTRALIA

OK, so this trip hasn’t happened yet — but it doesn’t mean Markle mania hasn’t already begun. The royal couple are set to head to Australia in 2018 with the Invictus Games scheduled for October, and Australian Tourism Minister Steven Ciobo has already offered the couple the services of Tourism Australia to assist in planning any pre- or post-wedding travel. And the hot tips for where they might stay? Ciobo suggests, in his official invitation to the couple, “for a romantic honeymoon one cannot go wrong with Australia’s luxury lodges, including Tasmania’s Saffire Freycinet Lodge, Longitude 131 in the Northern Territory where the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have previously stayed, Southern Ocean Lodge on Kangaroo Island, just off the coast of South Australia and Queensland’s Lizard Island, uniquely located on the Great Barrier Reef.”

For more travel news and inspiration, sign up to Escape’s newsletter.

Source: https://www.news.com.au/travel/travel-ideas/best-of-travel/meghan-markle-effect-10-destinations-in-the-spotlight/news-story/6ec101280f0b4fe8832bb685f62945bd

Yachting her way around the world....

Thank you!😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

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guillemelgat · 6 years

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11+11=22 Questions

I got tagged in two of the 11 questions ask games by @elnas-studies and @hardlyfluent (thank you both so much!!), so I combined them both in a really long hell post which I’m putting under a cut because otherwise this will be horrifying

RULES: Answer the 11 questions. Make 11 of your own and tag 11 people.

1. how old were you when you started learning other languages besides your native one(s)?

Unless you count my early attempts to learn Malayalam, which arguably started at the age of about two, then I’d say I really started learning another language when I had to take Spanish in sixth grade, which was a struggle at first but eventually I fell in love with it

2. have you ever dated one of your crushes before?

dating???? crushes????? im donot know what youre talking about

3. what is your strengths and weaknesses as a language learner?

My strength is probably my refusal to think things are “weird” or “difficult” and just kind of accepting them as a fact, and also the fact that I adore grammar. My weakness is definitely that I loathe learning vocabulary, and also the fact that I tend to just skim stuff to learn all the cool grammar and never actually practice anything :,))

4. why are you studying the languages you are studying?

oh boy get ready this is going to be a long ride

Spanish - I had to take it in school but the reason I currently speak it to any degree is probably thanks to my obsession with Latin pop during the dark years of my life (we don’t talk about that here)

Catalan - because it’s perfect and also because I love literally every aspect of Catalan culture, did you honestly expect me to say something else??

Welsh - originally because I read a series called The Dark is Rising when I was in fourth grade and it had Welsh in it and I was like I want to learn this and so I (sort of) did

Basque - not gonna lie, this one was for Xabi Solano (if I try to pretend like it’s not y’all will find me out eventually because everything is on this blog)

Turkish - good question, why am I learning Turkish?? jk, I think Turkey is a fascinating country with a really interesting history, also it appreciates cats so that’s a win

Western Abenaki - this is an indigenous language from around where I’m from so I feel like the least I could do would be to learn it considering I’m occupying their land, also I grew up listening to an Abenaki storyteller named Joseph Bruchac so it’s close to my heart

Romani - this was also a language I wanted to learn in fourth grade because we had an album of Romani music and it was one of my favorite things in the world and I wanted to be able to learn all the words to the songs, I guess not much has changed since then

Malayalam - me?? learning languages for actual reasons??? it’s more likely than you think (this is my heritage language, my dad’s family is Malayali)

Arabic - originally I had good reasons for learning this, now I’m just doing it for Mashrou’ Leila

Tamahaq - in case you’re not seeing a pattern here hopefully this will help, I’m learning this for Tinariwen so I can understand their songs

5. where in the world would u move to if u could?

Either the rural Pyrenees somewhere (La Garrotxa or Ripollès probably), somewhere in the New England woods, or Minneapolis (sorry I just really fell in love with that city it’s not my fault that it’s so good)

6. what is your favourite food in ur target language(s)?

pasta, I think it’s the same in probably all of them except Turkish, which is makarna

7. what is your favourite genre of books and/or movies?

I used to be a big sci-fi and fantasy person (and still am to some degree), but now I also really like historical fiction (although still with a dose of fantasy if it’s done well), plus literally anything gay

8. do you like poetry? if so, who is your favourite poet?

I’ve never really been into poetry but I absolutely adore Vicent Andrés Estellés

9. have you ever studied abroad?

Not with school, although I did study Spanish at a language school in Oaxaca for a week one summer, but I’m hoping to go to Senegal to do my Official College Study Abroad™ and learn some Wolof :))))

10. what is ur biggest fear?

I have a lot of these, do you really want to get into that (probably either dying or the depths of the ocean)

11. what is the one thing u can’t live without?

Probably my computer because I’m Trash™

1. If you could change your name, would you? and to what?

I actually am seriously considering changing my name irl, but I do also really like my birth name so I’m not sure, this is a difficult question

2. Do you have a favourite artistic movement?

I’m not a cultured person who is capable of having that sort of opinion, although I’m a big fan of art romànic in Catalunya, which is sort of a weird thing to be a fan of but that’s how it be sometimes

3. If you could move anywhere in the world, where would you go?

moving temporarily?? either somewhere in Catalunya or my family’s house in Kerala because it’s going to get sold soon probably since no one lives there anymore but it’s really important in my family’s history and I want to experience it before it’s gone; or, on a less serious note, a sheep farm would also be very nice

4. Do you collect anything? If so, what?

This is going to sound weird especially because I did this as a nine-year-old, but I used to collect business cards?? Now I just collect plants. Lots of plants. Too many plants, really, but who’s to stop me?

5. What is one piece of media that you think everyone should watch/read?

idk if this counts but please watch the video for “Roman” by Mashrou’ Leila, it’s amazing (I could rec books and stuff but I don’t have the same taste as people and also a lot of the stuff I watch/read is either trash or too mainstream to bother putting here)

6. What was your first favourite band/singer?

Hmm…let’s play it safe and say the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields because I was a cultured 4-year-old who listened exclusively to classical music (what happened to me, we will never know), outside of that I’m honestly not sure because I’ve had favorite bands my whole life and so it’s hard to say who was the first

7. What is your favourite season?

Autumn, but honestly my favorite season is whatever season comes next, I’m always ready for the change when it (finally) happens - that’s why I can’t live in places where it’s warm/temperate all year round, I’d go crazy

8. What’s your favourite song from your home country?

Oh wow this is difficult because (1) there’s a lot of music from the US and (2) I listen to almost none of it so... I’m going to pass on this for now

9. Is there any fashion style from the past that you would like to bring back?

I’m the wrong person to ask about fashion, I have the fashion sense of one of those guys on Queer Eye who Tan has to save because they wear jeans and a t-shirt to everything

10. What song do you currently listen to the most?

I’ve been listening to “Imm El Jacket” a lot recently because it’s the best, also “Entre poetas y presos” by La Raíz

Here are my questions:

1. What was your favorite childhood book/series?

2. What’s your favorite song in each of the languages you’re learning?

3. Do you prefer living in warm weather (above 25ºC/75ºF) or cold weather (below 0ºC/32ºF)?

4. Do you have pets? What kind/what are their names? If not, would you like a pet?

5. What is piece of advice you would give to your younger self if you could?

6. Who is one famous person that you really like/look up to?

7. What is one thing that you like to do that no one would expect of you? (as in something surprising/something that doesn’t fit with your personality or other interests)

8. Would you rather live in the woods or in the city?

9. What’s one thing in your daily routine that always goes wrong or always irritates you?

10. Do you still have your favorite childhood toy/stuffed animal? What is it?

11. What’s one thing that motivates you or keeps you going when you’re having a hard time?

I’m going to tag @incelphobiia, @reyneclaw, @euryalus, @chatwiththeclouds, @elphaba-masala, @bouzhi, @deepsearuin, but don’t feel obligated to do this at all, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to ^^

#thank you for tagging these are always really fun #sorry to take so long to do this #random stuff #tag games

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wineanddinosaur · 3 years

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Lance Winters, Nuclear Engineer-Turned-Distiller, Is Experimenting With American Agave

Lance Winters serves as the master distiller and president of St. George Spirits, a craft distillery in Alameda, Calif., that prides itself on rethinking traditional flavors and ingredients. In his free time, Winters is one of the few distillers in the country roasting and working with California agave.

St. George Spirits began as an eau-de-vie distillery, which informed Winters’ process of sourcing and building spirits from the ingredients up. Today, he’s motivated by experiences, not labels, and is equally inspired by sudden smells as he is by lasting memories.

The distillery offers spirits and liqueurs that range from a green chile vodka to a California shochu. The company made waves in 2007 when it released the first legal absinthe, and with Winters at its helm, it prides itself on crafting careful, nuanced spirits that recreate a category’s landscape rather than copy its leaders.

Nearly a decade ago, Winters released a rum made from 100 percent California sugarcane that he describes as the “natural wine” in an otherwise “Bordeaux-like” rum world. To create it, a complicated experimental process led him to trace his ingredients straight to the source and learn a distilling process that prepared him to eventually take on the agave plant. Currently, he’s been tapped to work on agave passion projects with Mark Crotalo of Crotalo Tequila and the soil scientist Joe Muller, who asked Winters to help harvest and roast nearly 7,000 pounds of California-grown agave.

Still, Winters shares his struggles with harvesting, roasting, and distilling agave spirits here in the United States through a refreshingly honest, informed worldview. He recognizes the labor that Mexican distillers undergo to produce agave spirits, and is hesitant to release any of his agave spirits to the public for retail. He also insists that working through agave’s unique challenges makes his team stronger, and details a rare insider’s look into the production of his agave spirits below.

[Editor’s note: This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.]

1. Can you talk about your early background in brewing, and with the U.S. Navy — and how that led to your work with St. George?

Yeah, so my time in the Navy was time spent operating nuclear power plants. I trained as a nuclear engineer and was stationed on board the USS Enterprise. With eight reactors, there’s a lot of chemistry, a lot of understanding of physics, and not a lot of great parties.

While I was in the Navy, I started brewing beer at home. When I got out, I got a job brewing beer. A friend gave me a bottle of Lagavulin Single Malt Whisky, and it was the first spirit I tasted that I thought was so remarkable — something that transcended just an ethanol experience. It was a story in a glass, and I was completely enthralled by it. I started learning more about whiskey, and I realized that in making whiskey you start by making beer. So that’s what led me to St. George.

The way that nuclear engineering influences [my distilling is] when you’re working on a still, you have to understand the nexus of the physics and the chemistry that takes place inside that still, so as you’re changing operating parameters for the still, you know how it’s going to influence the product that comes out. It’s sort of like learning to play a musical instrument and understanding how you’re going to affect the music that’s coming out in the end.

2. How do you approach the idea of distilling creatively? Are you generally looking for a white space or navigating these previous memories that you have, and trying to recreate those experiences in spirits?

At the risk of utilizing an overused phrase, it’s a pretty organic process at the distillery. It’s the sort of thing that can be as simple as, I’m out at dinner and I see a flavor combination that gets me going; or, I smell something out in the woods and I’m like, “Oh, my God, I want to capture this.” I think it’s really all about external inspiration.

And, there are times where it’s like, “OK, what would this category be like if it was reimagined from the very beginning? How would somebody approach making this product if there weren’t already hundreds of years of tradition behind it? How would we start a brand-new tradition?” We try to stay away from the influences of the past. The only reason we look at what’s been done already is to avoid doing it.

3. Can you talk a little about the St. George California Agricole Rum? Where did you source the sugarcane from, and what was the inspiration and research for that spirit?

Initially, I wanted to make rum because I didn’t really enjoy most of the rums that I had had. So I stepped back and thought as an eau-de-vie producer, how would you go about making a rum?

When you’re making an eau-de-vie from pears or raspberries, you don’t make it from an extract [or] from a concentrate. You have to get the fresh fruit. In the case of the rum, the “fresh fruit” is sugarcane, it’s grass — we started looking for sugarcane growers in California. The first place that we found was down near Fresno. There was a group of Hmong farmers who were growing it to celebrate the New Year — it was an “eating sugarcane.” We purchased that and started running it through a cane mill. Then, we ended up tracking down a gentleman who was growing cane [near the Salton Sea] with a smaller diameter which [produces] a lot more chlorophyll. So you end up with a really bright, intensely green cane juice and that really bright, intensely green cane juice contributes this incredible funk to the whole thing.

Our Agricole rum is to regular rums what natural wines are to Bordeaux. It’s grassy, it’s got a lot of [notes of] black truffle, a lot of dirt, a lot of olives. It’s really, really interesting and I think that funk helps to balance out and anchor tropical cocktails that are made with it.

4. Tell me about working on your first agave project, Agua Azul, with [St. George Spirits distiller and founder] Jörg Rupf. What was it like sourcing and working with the agave?

I [worked] with Jörg Rupf 14 years ago. We didn’t know of any sources of agave in the United States so we looked around and we found a distillery that was willing to sell us agave [from Mexico].

We had it cooked, then put into a refrigerated truck to make the trip up to the Bay Area; then proceeded to go absolutely crazy trying to figure out how we would process it. They call [agave hearts] “piñas” but it’s not quite a pineapple. It’s much bigger, and they look more like tortoise shells. They’re heavy, sticky, and full of incredibly long, tough fibers. We broke a lot of equipment trying to process these and ended up getting to the point where we were able to bludgeon them just enough to get some fermentation going. And then we distilled, and it was good, but it wasn’t great. It was probably a little too clean.

It was sort of like what we were experiencing on the first goes with the rum: It was bland, kind of boring. It was nothing to be ashamed of, but it was nothing to scream about, either. And it was nothing about the source of the agave. What it turned out to be was about steam cooking versus pit roasting. Think about when you sear something on a grill or when you smoke it; you end up with so much more depth and flavor than if you boil it or steam it.

5. Since then, you’ve worked on a few American agave projects. Can you walk me through the harvesting and roasting of the blue agave used in your project with Mark Crotalo?

Jörg reached out and got in contact with Mark Crotalo [of Crotalo Tequila]. On his property down in Temecula, [Mark had] amended the soil and planted a bunch of agave. We had that harvested, then brought up to a farm up in Winters, Calif., where [his team] had dug a pit for us, lined it with stones, and then filled it with a mix of oak and eucalyptus.

It was about a three-day pit roast, and then all that agave was delivered to the [St. George] distillery. We were still trying to figure out exactly how we were going to process it, but my thought was that we should use our sugarcane mill. It’s a roller mill. We could press off all the juices from the agave, and then ferment it. And that’s what we did. We ended up with a relatively small amount of really, really beautiful, lovely, smoky agave spirit. And it had so much more depth and so much more complexity than the stuff that had been steam cooked.

6. Do you have any plans for Agave American spirits that might hit the market soon?

I’m really torn. It’s a very difficult spirit to distill, so working on that helps us at St. George hone our skills as distillers. We’re always looking for opportunities for personal and professional growth, and agave provides that in spades. As far as actually releasing it, I know that we’re going to release some for a benefit for the group YIIN, Yolo Interfaith Immigration Network. What’s kind of problematic for me, while I love making this stuff, is I feel like selling it becomes a form of cultural appropriation. And the United States is a tremendous act of cultural appropriation –– a cultural melting pot is another word for that, a much nicer way of saying it. And we would be nothing if it weren’t for the assimilation of all these different cultural things. But the people in Mexico who make agave spirits bust their asses to do so, and the last thing that needs to happen is for a bunch of gringos north of the border to come in and start trying to take that business. So, we’ll continue to make it, we’ll continue to have fun with it. But I think if anything, we’ll serve it by the glass at the distillery.

7. What are your favorite Mexican agave [spirit] brands, whether that be for tequila or mezcal? Are there any brands you think our readers should look out for?

One that rises to the top of the pack for me is this small distillery in Oaxaca called Gracias a Dios. And they’re not only great people, they make great products, and they’re also doing things differently. They’re replanting a lot of agave as they harvest, [because] they’re concerned with sustainability. They are also artistic about things: They have a beautiful gin that they’ve produced with agave as a base and it’s got 33 different botanicals representing the different states of Mexico. It’s a really layered, beautiful mezcal-based gin.

I love it when somebody is honoring tradition, but they’re also striking out on their own. To me, that’s what being a new distiller is all about. Being somebody who’s popping onto the scene now, you’re not duty bound to follow traditions.

The article Lance Winters, Nuclear Engineer-Turned-Distiller, Is Experimenting With American Agave appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/american-agave-spirits-lance-winters/

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johnboothus · 3 years

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Lance Winters Nuclear Engineer-Turned-Distiller Is Experimenting With American Agave