#anywayyyy enjoy these snippets for now

[leviiackrman]

After PINING for so long… I have made a new oc hehe…

[gamerbearmira]

OPEN YOUR EYS OPEN YOUR EYES OPEN YOUR EYESSSSSS 🗣🗣

but figuratively and a little literally LMAOOOOO

Yeah I'm wiring and drawing now 😭😭 I'm graduating in like. 2 weeks, so i've been focusing on that a lot, but I'm here!! With art and snippets!! Also I've been planning on writing and releasing art for: Mama Isa, Housebroken, (possibly) Mamabel, Giftless Grandkids, and the BatB AU 😛😛

ANYWAYYYY ERM....enjoy this snippet. I was listening to WOAM and. Idk, I took them mf lyrics to heart, you know.

ENJOYYYYYY

LE GE IT

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Mirabel fiddled with her dress, the raised threading of the embroidery familiar on her fingers. She watched as her family bustled about the village square, helping out for the upcoming festival.

She wanted to help.

And she had tried. Honestly she had. But she just got overtaken by someone else or was shooed away. Claims that her help wasn't needed were said, but she knew the truth: her help wasn't wanted. She knew better. But she desperately wanted to help--wanted to prove that yes, she was a Madrigal, and yes she could be just as helpful, gift or not.

The 13-year-old scanned the crowd. Her eyes landed on her abuela. She was speaking with a few people from the festival committee. They always took care of the preparations, though gratefully took any help from anyone, especially the Madrigals.

Expect Mirabel.

Her eyebrows furrowed, her lip jutting out in a pout. She watched them speak for a moment longer before Isabela came over. She watched as they all fawned over her older sister. Their relationship had become...strained, over the years. She wish it wasn't like that. She didn't want it to be like that. But she had given up a long time ago on trying to fix it.

Maybe another day.

For now she was focused on her abuela. She steeled herself, taking a deep breath before marching over to her grandmother. It was not lost on her the irritated look on her sisters face, nor how her abuela shooed the girl away. But Mirabel just stood, standing her ground. She had to do this.

"Mirabel!" Alma said, clapping her hands together, though her voice was a bit strained. Forced almost. "Is something wrong? Did you finish the task I gave you?"

Mirabel nodded, breathing deeply. "S-Sí, I did. But...I was wondering if I could do something...else?"

Alma blinked. She seemed confused, her eyes flickered before she nodded. "Oh, yes, yes! There's always something you could do," the words left her mouth, but to Mirabel they felt empty. She watched as her abuela glanced around, her eye grazing over the other family members. "Em...Ah, you could help clean up! There's certainly always something to help clean up before decorations start."

Mirabel gave a forced smile, the one she always gave before reluctantly accepting a mundane and, frankly, insignificant task.

But not this time.

She girl laughed nervously, readjusting her glasses. "Well...I was hoping I could do something more, you know, important?"

Alma blinked again, her smile beginning to fade. It began to look like a grimace, and she glanced to the side nervously. "But it is important? Besides, what could you do to help?"

The words came off rather patronizing. Mirabel swallowed thickly, ignoring the tone in her abuela's words. She knew that it was, at least it seemed like, a genuine question. And the poor girl had heard it countless times before. It was almost as if Alma couldn't find something for her to do.

"Well that's easy! I could help mamá cook, or help set up with Luisa, or help Camilo with welcoming everyone!" Mirabel listed off. It was obvious, yet Alma seemed to give another confused look.

"But...that's their chore," Alma placed a hand on Mirabel's shoulder, and the girl felt her frustration building. "Mirabel, you should just let them work. Maybe you should...look after Antonio for a while. You know, just...out of the way?"

Mirabel's face twisted into a frown. Her disappointment and sadness must hae been evident, because Alma's eyes flickered again, her eyebrows twitching. Mirabel backed away, pushing Alma's hand away.

"Why?" Mirabel asked, and she did her best to hold back tears.

Alma frowned. "What?"

"Why?" Mirabel asked again. Her hands gripped her skirts. Her hands were sweaty, but she ignored it. "Why can't I do something important? Did I do something wrong? Did I mess up? I...I just don't understand."

Alma. "What do you mean? You don't have a gift. A-And I just don't..."

"Don't what, Abuela? Don't think I can help?" Mirabel asked. For once, Alma was speechless. Mirabel tears were flowing freely now. They didnt notice the few family members nearby staring at them, mostly in confusion. Except Dolores of course. Both Julieta and Agustín were about two seconds away from dropping everything and rushing over.

"Mirabel, I-"

"You think I'm useless too," Mirabel mumbled, almost bitterly. She looked up at Alma with those wide eyes. Those sad, big, brown eyes that she hadn't seen, hadn't truly seen, since her 5th birthday. "Don't you?"

Alma wasn't sure what happened. Some barrier in her mind came crashing down, or maybe some pieces started falling into place. She blinked rapidly, not really from tears but from realization. She stared at Mirabel, her eyes darting between both of her eyes, the tears on her face, and the utter defeat that was in her voie.

It was almost like Alma was seeing Mirabel for the first time since that day. Like whatever was blocking her eyes finally fell away.

"Mirabel?" Alma asked, catching Mirabel's attention. The girl stared, confused, but the tears still ran. Alma suddenly grabbed her hands, holding them close. She hadn't done that in years. "Mirabel you-you aren't...you aren't useless. Why in the Heavens would you think that?"

Mirabel looked down at her hands before looking around. "You never let me help. You always tell me to stay out of the way," she said, her voice hitching every few words.

Alma's eyes widened. It confused Mirabel. It was like she was hearing this stuff for the first time, like this was entirely new information to her. She began to frantically look around, ignoring the looks of the other family members and passerbys. "Surely there's something you can do," she looked around, her eyes landing on Camilo, who was playing with the kids who had began to come to the town center for the festival.

"Camilo! You can help Camilo! Kids love you, right?" Alma said, and her face....her face was one of a hopeful worry. Like she was trying to cheer her up by giving her a task one of the other family members had. But not out of pity. Not this time.

Mirabel blinked in shock, her tears momentarily stopping. "R-Really?"

"¡Sí, sí!" Alma exclaimed, ushering Mirabel towards her cousin. Camilo looked up, hiding the arepa he had snatched when he shifted into one of the kids. He swallowed thickly before waving as they came over.

"But I thought you wanted me to-"

Alma didnt even let her finish. She knew what she was going to say. "Nonsense! You can help Camilo, and once all the townsfolk are here you can..." Alma looked around, once again almost frantic to find her another task. "You can help Isabela and Dolores! I'm sure there's some decorations you can help with. You have that...em...artistic touch."

Mirabel looked at Camilo, who was waving her over excitedly. She looked back at Alma, quickly rubbing her tears away and readjusting her glasses. "O-Ok! I'll do my best!"

With that, Mirabel rushed over to Camilo. The two hugged, tightly, in a way Alma hadn't seen since they were younger. Actually, come to think of it, she had seen them together less and less in the past years.

Had she done that?

Alma blinked rapidly again, her eyes glazing over for a brief moment. She shook her head, glancing at the two before nodding in approval. Now everyone had something to do. She walked off, going to find the festival committee once more.

But in the back of her mind, another wall began to crunble, and with it, a foggy haze began to disperse.

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WHATTT ALMA BECOMING SELF AWARE (but not in the 4th wall breaking way)

[housewifebuck]

As an ex beekeeper I must ask about Buckley bees honey 👀

ok sorry it took me almost a month to answer the rest of these wip asks I kinda forgot all these fics existed. anywayyyy this fic is based on a post by @bucktits that I of course cannot fucking find now but it was about buddie meeting at a farmer's market and falling in love<3 and so was born the fic where buck and maddie (the doc title is kind of a lie bc maddie is the beekeeper and buck is more like her little apprentice) sell honey at a farmers market near Eddie's house every weekend and Eddie is allergic to honey but he becomes their #1 customer anyway bc he is obsessed with buck and wants to bone him so bad. and also they're both still firefighters but at different stations (sorry I know some of u hate that). it's really just dumb and silly and an excuse for me to write Eddie Swagless Diaz being a down bad diva. anyway ill put a snippet under the cut:)

“Three jars should last you more than a week, man.” Buck sounds amused, his eyes glittering in the mid-morning sun as he grins, and Eddie tries not to read anything into the fact that Buck so easily recalls what he’d bought last time he was here.

In his defense, he really did go through a fair amount of it already, and if he were to try and project his rate of future honey usage based on current available data, he’d say now is a perfectly acceptable time for him to restock. Christopher has been adding it as a topping to almost every possible breakfast food after Eddie let it slip that honey is a marginally healthier alternative to maple syrup, and Carla had taken a jar home as well.

“Well, Christopher loves it. And I gave some to a friend.” Two technically truthful facts that just happen to omit the third, also truthful fact that Eddie still has a jar and a half of honey sitting in his kitchen cabinet. Honey is nonperishable, right? So it’s a normal thing to store in bulk, he reasons.

Eddie can’t help but interpret Buck’s answering smile as knowing anyway, like he’s seeing right through him. The thought doesn’t bother him as much as it should.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it!” Maddie pipes up from beneath the brim of her beach hat. She’s sitting in a camping chair behind the table, peering at him over the top of a pair of bright pink sunglasses. The combination of accessories seems redundant considering the canopy they now have covering their booth, but Eddie supposes white people can’t be too careful. He wonders if last week might have been the duo’s first time at a market; they seem decidedly better prepared this time around. 

He doesn’t particularly like the way Maddie’s gaze cuts between himself and her brother, nor does he enjoy the way her polite smile morphs slowly into a full-on grin as she watches them. She sits forward in her chair, clasping her hands in her lap and crossing one leg over the other like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.