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electronicwitchcollection · 1 year ago

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~*Kensei Smut*~

Honestly. Kensei fought me at every opportunity, he picked and prodded at everything I wrote, yet wouldn’t help nor let me move on to another fic. I’ll not be writing for him again until he learns to cooperate 😂. As a result for not speaking up, I’ve given him another use for that mouth. Neither me nor Kensei are happy with this, but I’m going to post it anyway. That’ll show him.

*my masterlist is pinned at the top of my page if you’d like to read anymore of my work 💜*

You could feel your partners explosive spiritual pressure from where you stood alone in your shared kitchen. Quite an impressive feat, since you lived a good eight blocks away from the office in the ninth division. Kensei was a fantastic partner, sweet and attentive, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you. His quiet strength was always there to hold you up when you needed him, silent pilar of strength in your relationship.

However, he wasn't void of any flaws. He was incredibly temperamental, quick to anger and with very little patience. Kensei wasn't easy going, by any stretch of the imagination. He lived by a strong sense of discipline and morals and reacting hostility toward those not falling in line.

It had taken you months to see past the curt and gruff exterior the Captain exuded to discover the attentive and intensely tender man that lay beneath. Not something that many were privy too. He was loyal and fiercely protective, especially over you. He showed you how much you ment to him every single day, in his own gruff way.

You could feel the annoyance pulsating in the angry flare up from where you were. Kensei had been trying to curb his explosiveness in work, after one too many complaints had been overheard. It wasn't that he wanted to upset anyone, least of all the female shinigami in his division. He was just a man who struggled to contain his emotions and express them calmly.

You sighed softly, he had been trying so hard. Knowing he would return home soon, and would turn to you for comfort, you hurried to your bathroom for a hot shower.

———————————————————

Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, Kensei's favourite deep purple silk gown wrapped around your curves, you hear the door to your home snap shut a little harder than necessary. Bare foot you walked to the entrance of your home, watching as the man who held your heart kicked off his sandals roughly, letting them hit the wall before landing haphazardly on the floor. Waiting for him to remove his captains coat and zanpakuto, you got the chance to study his handsome face.

His strong jaw was tense, harshly defining his jawline. Lips were pulled thin, likely chomping down hard on his back teeth. Nostrils flared with every rough breath, eye brows furrowed deeply. Clearly the walk home hadn't dampened the annoyance that caused the angry reaction you had felt earlier.

His light brown eyes caught your own as he left the entrance hall to walk into your home, making his way straight to you.

Without breaking his stride, large hands engulfed your waist, throwing you over his shoulder effortlessly. You yelped at the sudden change of verticality, gripping onto the back of his kosode frantically. Not once had he ever let you fall, but the natural reaction was strong. He wrapped an arm around the back of your thighs, pinning you securely as he made his way through to your bedroom.

You flounced with every determined step, the heat radiating from his frame seeped through the flimsy material covering your modesty. Equilibrium was thrown through a loop when he deposited you heavily onto the bed, bouncing lightly on the plush matress at the force.

Protruding muscles proudly shown off in his sleeveless uniform bunched together delightfully as he crawled up the bed. You held your arms open for him, allowing him to cover your body with his own. Caged between the solid wall of muscle and bed, you stared at the ceiling as he nuzzled into your neck and sighed deeply

"bad day?" You ask him softly, bring up your hands to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He grunted near your ear in affirmation, so not to accidentally snap at you. His hair was deceivingly soft, the Mohawk he sported these days grew naturally, and wasn't styled by hair products as one would assume. By the slight coconut smell protruding through the air, you could tell that he had stolen your shampoo.. again.

"you wanna talk about it?" The offer hung in the air for a moment before you felt his head shake no. This was a usual response you had come to accept, pushing the matter would only amplify the festering annoyance. You pull at his hair gently, encouraging him to straighten up to face you. Unable to part from you completely, he rested his forehead against your own, tips of your noses brushed together sweetly. Untangling your fingers from his hair, you smoothed it down the side of his face, softly cupping his tense jaw in your palm.

"how can I help?"

The answer came in the form of a bruising kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his lips melding against your own, stealing away your breath. Willingly, you open your mouth at the insistent tongue running across your lips, surrendering yourself to Kensei completely. Angrily the moist appendage invaded your mouth, claiming the space as his own.

Harsh breaths forcefully pushed out through his nose, fanning over your face and warming the skin on your cheeks to a subtle pink hue . Your tongue danced across the one leading yours in a rhythmic pattern, fitting in perfectly to the to and fro that made you dizzy. The kiss was controlled and disciplined, traits Kensei valued and demanded of his subordinates, though you couldn't ignore the passion and raw admiration you could feel being pushed through.

This is what Kensei had come to discover he needed when he couldn't express his distain towards the childish insubordination he endured on a daily basis with his lieutenant, who embodied everything he meticulously beat away with his rigorous training. He needed you to be compliant, adhering to his commands freely and without questioning his authority.

Something you were all too willing to give him. Kensei truly treasured you, made you feel unconditionally loved each and every day. You could give him this in return. Sacrificing your free will was a small price to pay, for what you got in return. Kensei was as skilled as a lover as he was a leader. Passionately bringing you into the throws of pleasure, knowing your body better than you yourself did.

With a final press of his lips, Kensei pushed himself to his elbows, looking down into your flushed face. You read the question behind his hardened eyes as easily as if he had spoken the words out loud. He wouldn't use your body unless you gave him permission to do so. The affirmative nod was all that was needed, he dropped a fleeting kiss to your lips before sitting back between your legs, pushing them wider to accommodate his wide stature.

Battle worn hands trailed over the silky sheen of your robe, soft strands catching on the hardened callouses formed from decades of wielding a zanpakuto. Thick fingers made easy work of untying the sash holding the robe closed, denying him view from your body. You watched as Kensei pushed the garment open, the material fanning around you on the bed.

His eyes burned where they landed, intently washing over each and every curve, memorising every blemish and scar that added complexity to your otherwise perfect skin. Ample breasts perked at his heat gaze, rosy nipples hardened under the weight of that intense stare. His hands roamed over your body, gliding over your skin appreciatively. The sharp breath you pulled when his fingers grazed over your nipples was deafening in the otherwise silent room.

Kensei dipped his head, kissing your soft stomach fondly. You were strong in your own right, though that didn't reflect in your body as it did his. Kensei's body was thick with muscles, defines pecs and rippling abs. Where's yours was soft, plush with a little weight that just wouldn't shift. Kensei adored the roundness of your curves and didn't hesitate to worship all the little details you had stared too long at in the mirror, self consciously picking apart.

He kissed his way along the lower part of your stomach, nuzzling into the flesh you hated most. Your hand darted out from habit, ready to halt his explorations when his caught your wrist, keeping it at bay. Lips pressed against your skin, Kensei looked at you darkly, eyes held in an unspoken warning.

Gently depositing your hand on the bed next to you, squeezing your wrist in a silent reminder, Kensei continued his path to your hip, sucking gently where your hipbone protruded ever so slightly. Heat rushed to the area, blood pulling to the surface in a purpling bruise that was soothingly kissed. Following down the crease of your thigh, Kensei laid himself down on his stomach.

He brushed a hand under your thigh, smoothing it up your leg to your knee and raising it from the bed. Foot planted, holding your leg up as he wanted, Kensei moved to do the same on the other side. Your sex was on full display for him, legs opened wide to allow him unobstructed access. You covered your eyes, arm thrown over them mortified at the deep inhale he gave, nose pressed into your mound.

You groaned at the first slow lick he gave at your centre, his wide flat tongue dragging against the sensitive skin of your lips. Meticulously he tasted you, long, hard swipes of his tongue opened you up slowly. Your hips rolled wantonly, urging him to quicken his pace. His hand splayed across your stomach, keeping you in place as he continued to lick through your folds.

Reaching your centre, Kensei slowly thrusted his tongue into your velvety heat, nuzzling his face into your wetness. Strong laps caressed your inner walls, sending a jolt of arousal through you. Heat spread through your lower stomach, tightening deliciously with shocks of pleasure. Kensei determinedly devoured you, wet lapping noises loudly filtering through the room.

His tongue penetrated you deeply, tasting the increasing wetness you produced. The steady rhythm inching you closer to release, fanning the embers of warmth into a burning inferno. You moaned loudly, arching your back. Your hand darted to his hair, interweaving your fingers through the grey strands pushing him deeper into your core as your hips grind up to meet that devilishly skilled tongue.

Kensei growled into your cunt, stopping his actions. Your head snapped up with a whine of protest, to meet his hardened stare over your mound, eyes flashing in warning. Detangling your hand from his hair, Kensei returned it to the bed beside you, message being loudly received.

No touching

His smouldering eyes burned into you a moment longer, accentuating the point, before delving back in to stroke you velvety heat. He meticulously began tasting as much as you as he could reach, gliding along the secret pleasure points hidden within you. Letting your head fall back into the plump pillow, hands fisting in the sheets to avoid temptations, you unabashedly moan out your approval.

Kensei devoured you like he trained. Disciplined, methodically precise and wouldn't quit until he achieved the results he desired. He was attuned to your body, every gasp memorised, any minute clench or shiver used to figure out exactly where to touch to bring you to the peak of pleasure. You had been all to willing to allow him the time to experiment and perfect the way he pleased you, selfishly relishing in the results of his determination.

"Kensei" his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, knowing he preferred when you used his full name. The gentle roll of your hips didn't go unnoticed as his arms wrapped around you, holding your hips in a vice like grip to halt your movements. With increased enthusiasm he delved into your depths, thrusting deeply until you came apart. Fingers squeezed into the soft curves of your hips as you bucked with a shout. Pleasure ripped through you, waves of heat washed over you.

Kensei's busy tongue didn't stop the assault as you clamped down around him. Your release coated his tongue in hot bursts of liquid, wetting his face. Your legs quaked at the shattering orgasm, held firm in his strong arms. Moans freely fell, feeling overwhelmed from the lack of reprieve he gave you. Drinking down your release, Kensei twirled his tongue against your folds, cleaning up the mess he made.

Kissing his way up the length of your cunt, he settled to your throbbing neglected clit. Mouthing the oversensitive bud, Kensei kissed it firmly. He deepened the kiss, twirling his tongue around it teasingly, tracing the shape with the tip. Too soon after your last orgasm, the stimuli was too much. His breath felt like fire, burning the sensitive flesh. Thick tongue brushed against it cruelly, setting alight the hundreds of nerves hidden there.

Your arms reached high, clawing at the pillow you writhed on desperately. The sensation pushed away any coherent thought you had to the back, blinding you with raw pleasure. Teeth grazed your bud, adding varying taxtures among the smoothness of his tongue. His thumbs brushed soothing circles into your hips, silently praising you for your obedience.

Kensei wrapped his lips around the object of his fixation, suckling gently the way he knew drove you wild. The erotic moans he pulled from you quickened in pace, steadily climbing to an obscene volume. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for the feeling of being filled. His suckling turned into long hard pulls, encouraging blood to rush to the sensitive area. Body slick with perspiration, chest heaving with deep breaths you're forced into a second orgasm, as blindingly euphoric as the first

Muscles tensed painfully in your legs as your blindly rode the wave of pleasure. Calling out his name desperately at the never ending suction he deliver to your swollen nub. "Kensei" you gasped, clawing at the pillow beneath you desperately, "Kensei, please, it's too much"

Kensei shook his head buried in your dripping heat negativity, he wasn't finished and you were going to take it. His hands slipped from your hips to cup your ass, pushing it into the air and into his hungry mouth. Slurping away your release had you seeing stars, dancing white lights filtered through the darkness of your tightly shut eyes.

Your body was spent, bones felt liquefied in your limbs. The pull of sleep loomed ominously over you, ready to claim you once released from pleasures consuming rapture. His crocked nose brushed against your clit as his tongue delved into your core, pulsating erratically around the invading tongue.

"Kensei, please" tears sprung to your eyes, leaking down the side of your face to wet the cotton beneath. Your body trembled, nerves alight with over sensitivity at his relentless assault. " I can't, I can't it's too much" your whine went unanswered, only spurring him on in his mission to taste every inch of you. Supporting your ass with once hand, Kensei brought the other to your cunt, easily sliding two thick digits into you.

The blissful feeling of being stretched silenced your begging, savouring the stretch of being filled. Kensei didn't hesitate to plunge them into you quickly, curling to reach the spongy part with practiced accuracy at every thrust. His fingers squelched through your already sopping cunt, juices flowing over his fingers, wetting his hand and the sheets below.

Kensei could feel your legs quake around him, thighs pressed into his shoulders trapping him between your legs. He twirled his tongue against your clit, sucking it between his lips in a harsh pull. Listening intently to your loud moans, Kensei felt all his pent up frustration Ooze out of him as you writhed beneath him, shouting out his name beautifully.

You came with a yell, bucking your hips erratically dislodging the hold Kensei had on your abused pussy. His fingers slowed in you, easing you through the wave of pleasure blinding you. Your legs slumped against the mattress when he removed his fingers, leaving a parting kiss on your mound, Kensei wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up to meet you

He laid heavily next to you, pulling your twitching body into his strong chest, his arms wrapped around you, rubbing soothing circles into your breath as you came back down to earth. Your mind was sluggish, eyes struggling to stay open as you nestled into his chest, his strong heart beat soothingly pulsating near your ear. A gentle kiss to your forehead had you tilting up your chin, asking for a kiss.

Kensei obliged, languidly caressing your tongue with his own, Tinted with the taste of your pleasure. You cupped his jaw, smoothing over the skin softly. He looked relaxed, eye brows no longer in a deep furrow, tightness of his jaw released. His eyes bore into your own with so much adoration and care that it stole your breath away.

"what about you?" You ask, brushing your knee against his hidden cock. Kensei shook his head silently, pulling you to drape over his chest as he sunk into the bed, finally relaxed. Kensei closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep, holding onto you closely.

You were all he needed.

#bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach smut #bleach x reader #kensei maguruma is a salty bitch #kensei x reader #kensei muguruma #kensei smut #bleach fandom #bleach anime #Kensei smut

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las-microfisuras · 1 year ago

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(J128)

Tráeme la puesta del sol en una taza,

Recuenta los frascos matinales

Y dime cuánto rocío hay;

Y dime hasta dónde se movió la mañana,

Dime a qué hora duerme el tejedor-

Que urdió la amplitud del azul.

Anótame cuántas notas componen

El nuevo éxtasis del petirrojo

Entre las ramas asombradas-

Cuántos viajes emprende la tortuga-

Cuántas copas comparte la abeja,

Esa libertina del rocío.

Y también, quién alzó los pilares del arco iris,

Y quién conduce las dóciles esferas

Con cuerdas de azul flexible.

Qué dedos sujetan la estalactita-

Quién cuenta los abalorios de la noche,

Para saber si no falta ninguno.

Quién construyó esta casita blanca

Y cerró sus ventanas de tal modo

Que mi espíritu no es capaz de ver.

Quién me permitirá salir, algún día de fiesta,

Breve pompa,

Con aparejos de vuelo.

Emily Dickinson.

Versión: Isaías Garde

J128

Bring me the sunset in a cup,

Reckon the morning’s flagons up

And say how many Dew,

Tell me how far the morning leaps—

Tell me what time the weaver sleeps

Who spun the breadth of blue!

Write me how many notes there be

In the new Robin’s ecstasy

Among astonished boughs—

How many trips the Tortoise makes—

How many cups the Bee partakes,

The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, who laid the Rainbow’s piers,

Also, who leads the docile spheres

By withes of supple blue?

Whose fingers string the stalactite—

Who counts the wampum of the night

To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House

And shut the windows down so close

My spirit cannot see?

Who’ll let me out some gala day

With implements to fly away,

Passing Pomposity?

#emily dickinson

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jormshands · 1 year ago

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Sanford character analysis no one asked for ❤️

Sanford is an odd one. His voice and tone doesn't really match with the personality he displays at times.

Out of him and Deimos, he seems to be the de facto leader, but only in specific scenarios. He is the one that thinks ahead more, the more observant one, the more quick to fall on a judgment one. Throughout the episodes, he is usually behind Deimos- who rushes past first, and scans for danger Deimos might have missed, however that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy causing pain. It is shown to be Deimos that takes the direct orders from Doc and plans with Sanford's assistance. In contrast to Hank and Dei (at least outwardly with dei) Sanford seems to actually feel pressure of getting the mission done, which is different from Hank's more lackadaisical determination as in wanting to get the job done but not getting worked up over it. In madcom 11, Sanford seems to reach a breaking point, he falls to his knees and screams in pain and frustration, going as far as to try and jump off of a pilar to kill himself. This displays he is the most in time with his emotions, though in fight mode, to grieve over deimos. Out of the bunch he actually feels emotions like an average person would.

However, in game he does show tendencies of optimism, such as, "maybe we'll get lucky," and often is the one to steer Deimos forward when he gets worked up. It could be argued to be more realism when a mag that happens to have an explosive on him appears, and how he informs Deimos "better hope we reach that shut off valve first" referring to the gestalt chasing them. He also uses some aspects of realism with the sheriff, berating him for acting so careless about the safety of the nexus, "If we don't put their soldier cloning and training program to an end, it's only a matter of time until we end up like every other dead citizen in this wretched place. You thinks that don't include you too?" He's not necessarily thinking he's saving the world and trying to get the sheriff to "join the good side" he's informing him that everyone will die including the sheriff and then there will be nothing left. He sees that as common knowledge.

In romp.fla, he was the more judgemental and assertive one in the new situation, the first to shoot, even startling Deimos into firing as well, showing Deimos looks to him for calls to action occasionally in situations of confusion. In shakedown he is absently critical of Hank and even Deimos to a certain degree. Once Hank completely misidentifies San with Dei, Sanford gets more short and clipped with them. Also in his stress he and Deimos have a rather passive aggressive conversation over the radio about the gestalt. Deimos is actively being chased by it and Sanford pressuring him to unlock a bridge for him to pass. He is plenty capable of doing things himself and is a decent thinker. He might not be at Deimos' level of fast thinking but he clearly can come up with unique ideas such as trying to blow the armor off of the riot guard when Hanks "just hit him" and Deimos' "make the robot hurt him" didn't work. He is the demolitionist expert and can work with bombs at a strikingly fast pace. He's even quick and agile enough to plant a c4 on an enemy's back.

He also took charge in the interrogation of the sheriff and his goons, barking out and being commanding and stern, "We're taking down the Nexus with or without your help...and we're happy to do this the hard way. Your choice," and "We have NO IDEA who that is. But you've got one second to get out of our way." Though he is capable of losing his temper towards the end, "What exactly do you think we're here to do, Sher? Shut you down or something? You and your little "operation" out here!?" He yells at the sheriff like the answer is blindingly clear. He also snaps at tricky almost immediately, but that could lead to him just being really fed up, "Make some sense, you mad clown bastard! What are you trying to tell us?!"

Also with his other half, he seems to have a lesser threshold than his partner does. As in what he can tolerate before getting miffed. "That's twice I had to climb over wreckage today. I'm over it." And What happens when we get to the top? I'm kind of done with all the surprises." It seems at first he's willing to dash in with his partner, but, being the most "human like" he eventually gets to a point where he wants to leave. This is pertaining to what's harming him. Not other people.

He also seems to have a bit of an ego on him. Many of his voice lines are him mocking, taunting, insulting other people or gassing himself up. This only happens when fighting which suggests he is quite a fan of maiming and killing. Even if you forgo the voice lines, his attitude and how he carries himself as this big tough guy are still there. In 7.5 he teases and taunts an atp soldat to come closer in a rather cocky manner, then proceeding to beat the soldat to death as well as taking a hostage and just beating them up when they already showed no resistance. People seem to forget he's also a wanted torturer, implying long and drawn out sessions and not quick merciful kills. In 5.5 after being thrown out of the building by tricky, he quickly and more eagerly than usual charges into battle while Deimos stays behind. He also has wiped his hook off to clean it on the bodies of his victims, displaying a complete lack of empathy for those he's killed. He's the one that speaks up most and the one that tries to put pieces together in game and will relay that information back to Deimos, who seemed overwhelmed in a new environment, asking questions and getting startled from time to time while Sanford doesn't seem to.

He seems to be more focused than Dei however in how he carries himself. He's often the one to drag Dei back to earth when he gets worked up, such as with Gil when Deimos was initially going to burst through the door until Sanford talked some sense into him "he's already dead", therefore actually making the headstrong Deimos submit to him and begrudgingly agree. He does seem to add some insight and wisdom to Dei as well, like knowing if deis recklessness and chiming in with "don't want to piss off the locals" and Deimos agrees, talking about his weapons and readiness to fight.

In the harchar streams, Hans cited that Sanford is more laid-back and "just looking out for his little friend" similar to how a "bodyguard" works. He seems to work well with teams as he seems more preoccupied on details than the big picture before him, something Deimos is the opposite of; he sees the big picture and forgoes little details at times. This seems to display a bit of a foil to Deimos, he keeps himself serious on the outside, but has an outgoing side inside while dei is vice versa. Including that, when Hank was fighting for his life with tricky, he and Deimos had decided to goof off in the rift, displaying some of his quirkiness and finding the ability to have fun during a massive mission. He also was a bit laid back with Deimos during the lift to the science tower, the two going back and forth about how old the nasty thing was. This leads me to believe that while he makes himself assertive and strong around others he's not all that close to, around Deimos or people he finds close he allows himself to be a bit more laid back and fun loving, displaying the parts of himself he keeps hidden. He only seems to let this side show when around Deimos and not really anyone else

#madcom #madness combat #madness combat headcanons #sanford madness combat #comissions open #open comissions

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leohtttbriar · 2 months ago

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that may be an encouraging thought

Written for trektober: Day 25 redshirts

Pilar was bleeding freshly red enough that it was blending into her uniform. It wasn’t a great sign, she knew, but it was an interesting image.

“I might die,” she observed casually.

Everyone gathered around her, her two fellow security officers and Lieutenant Uhura, frowned at her.

“You’re so dramatic,” said Rand, who was tearing off pieces of her own uniform to keep up the steady supply of bandages for T'hir to press relentlessly into Pilar’s side.

“I’m just saying,” groaned Pilar as the life-saving pressure at her flesh wound did the expected thing and remained quite painful.

“You are obviously in shock,” said T'hir.

“Tell my mother I love her,” said Pilar.

“Dramatic,” said Rand again. She ran a long strip from her dress under Pilar's back and then back around her side, gathering a bundle of everyone else's uniforms (the skirts were verging on being too cute for work on all of them) and successfully tying off the bundle of balled up fabric. T'hir had explained helpfully that their uniforms were made of a highly absorbent fabric for occasions such as this. Pilar tried to look at this development as a good thing instead of excruciatingly middling.

A pair of comforting hands pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. She looked up and back to Uhura smiling like everything was going to be okay—which was altogether nice. Pilar had been draped across Uhura’s lap now for a few minutes and it was a relief to know she wasn’t being an enormous bother.

Rand sat back against the log next to Uhura, slumping very subtly into her side (which by Rand's standards was equivalent to sticking dragging her tongue up Uhura's neck). T'hir sat on Uhura’s other side and held Pilar’s hand. Sweaty. T'hir bravely kept her grip.

Now, all they could do was wait for the incoming rescue.

“Anyone know any jokes?” asked Pilar.

“I’m unfamiliar,” said Rand. Typical.

More awkward silence which was a failure of a distraction for the throbbing on Pilar's abdomen.

“Why is it always us?” muttered T'hir. “I am opposed to being fodder.”

No one responded immediately.

Then Rand said, from her normal professional distance, “I’m working on a proposal of improving field mission parameters and rules of engagement. I’ll bring you in.”

T'hir considered this. Then she said, “Okay.”

“You’re welcome to provide an etching of my grave if that’ll help you get it through the higher-ups,” said Pilar. “Here lies a true hero.”

“Sure,” said Rand. “Thanks.”

T'hir squeezed Pilar’s hand.

It was quiet.

“I don’t know any jokes that will translate well,” said Uhura. “But you can be assured that they’re all very funny.”

“Nice,” said Pilar.

“Tell us story, Nyota,” said Rand.

Pilar glanced up and saw Rand had slumped further into Uhura’s shoulder, which was very loud PDA in her opinion.

“A story?”

“Yeah, a story.”

“I would also like a story,” said T'hir. “Nothing trite, though. I was at a human wedding recently and everything was so trite.”

“Fuck yeah, I hate weddings,” said Pilar, lying.

“You do not,” said T'hir.

“Know any stories that aren’t trite, Nyota?” asked Rand, teasing. God, she was shameless.

“Well, I recently reread Gilgamesh,” said Uhura.

“That sounds fun,” said Pilar. “Do that.”

“It’s not happy”—

“I read that in school,” said Rand. "I don't remember any of it."

“As did I,” said T'hir.

“Ugh, shut up,” said Pilar. “I’m dying. I want to hear the story. Please. Sir.” She glanced back nervously at Rand who rolled her eyes.

“Okay,” said Uhura, shifting a little. “There once was a city…”

---------------------------------

“…You were right, that wasn’t happy at all,” said Pilar.

Rand was cuddling, stony-faced, against Uhura’s side. T'hir was asleep, bored.

“Well,” said Uhura, but she didn’t follow it up with anything.

“What’s the point of it?” asked Pilar. “To remind us we’re all going to die and there’s nothing we can do about it? I already knew that. I’m wearing a red shirt.”

Uhura sighed.

Then she said, “I’m not an expert in Sumerian poetry”—

“You aren’t?” said Pilar, genuinely confused.

“So I’m not going to lecture you about the appropriate literary lesson here.”

“Oh no....”

Rand flicked Pilar's shoulder.

“But I’m fairly sure the point of telling the story is so you can experience Gilgamesh say: ‘If my grief is violent enough, perhaps he will come back to life again.’”

“…why is that the point?”

Uhura shrugged. “It’s good line.”

Pilar thought about this. Luckily, before she could enter into any true reflection, Rand’s comm beeped and within a minute they were all being beamed back onto the Enterprise.

Doctor McCoy looked disappointed in them.

“I'll take the money, you keep the rope,” said Pilar, giving him finger guns.

“Good line,” said Uhura, who still had Pilar in her lap.

Rand helped them both to standing, T'hir still recovering from being abruptly woken from her nap.

Once McCoy and Chapel had scooped Pilar into their loving arms, Pilar turned to look at Rand and Uhura. They were an unprofessional amount of distracted.

Uhura was smiling up at Rand, quoting softly, “What shall I do, where shall I go now?”

And Rand kissed her forehead (scandal).

“Oh,” said Pilar. “Yeah, I get it.” Then, “Hey, Commander Rand—that should be the title of your proposal. About red-shirts and the ROE.”

“Death has caught me,” quoted Uhura, the nerd.

“Sure,” said Rand. “It’s a good line.”

#trektober 2024 #my fic #star trek #tos #uhura x rand #uhura #janice rand #redshirts

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dramoor · 1 year ago

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I want thank ALL of the lovely people for their kind birthday wishes for me today on my 60th birthday.

I am the luckiest man in the world. I have a wonderful partner in life, my beautiful wife Patricia and three lovely daughters; Elle, Miranda and Madeline.

Today, I am reminded of what Dr. M Scott Peck told me over 30 years ago: At 40, you feel like you can conquer the world and there’s a sense that nothing can stop you.

But at 60 you realize the very real fragility of life and temporariness of it all. A humbling knowledge that there is indeed a time limit for all things and that God’s design though perfect, is precious far beyond its brevity.

Today, I am also reminded of the Hindu story that my friend Bill from Lowell Arkansas told me about a man at his funeral. Looking at the man, “Would this man lying here ask for more riches and Gold from the world? Would this man ask to be more famous and well regarded by others? Would he ask to be taller or look more handsome? No. The only thing this man lying here today would ask for was much simpler…more time.”

If you are reading this now, then you too have time! Use it wisely, use it unwisely too! But USE it. Be IN it. Be aware that you are part of ALL of it and that the separateness you sometimes feel is an illusion. Just as your heart beats without being told, you are as integral to the Sun that fires and the planets that circle it as your heart is a part of you.

For the atheists, God loves you too. The mistake you make is to think the universe is a stupid thing that just bumps into things and expands ignorantly and without reason or intelligence. And that somehow we human beings, with our intelligence is just some kind of ‘freak’ universal accident. To you I say this, if there is such a thing as kindness, empathy, compassion and love…it is because you found it in other people.

And as my dear friend Norm Macdonald once said, “We are part of this universe, indeed a mere fraction of it, so if we have kindness and love, how much more the universe itself.” For if we are capable of love, it is because it is endemic to the universe itself.

To quote Alan Watts, “For we didn’t come ‘in’ to the world, we came ‘out’ of it. We are the universe evolving to the point of consciousness, so that the universe, us, can experience existence and life in all it’s wonder and beauty and glorious exuberance.”

Lastly, as I am a new convert to Catholicism, I offer my apology for my lack of Christ’s forgiveness to my fellow man. I was so angry at the people who shut down schools and indeed the world and who coerced others to do things against their will which hurt many people deeply. I offer my unconditional forgiveness and amnesty.

For how can I stay mad at the famous singer who would not let others in to his Broadway show unless they had an experiential jab. I will never forget how kind he was to me and my friends when he was the musical guest on SNL.

How can I continue to hold a grudge against the actor who shamed people like me but has been such a great example for other actors to never give up and keep fighting for their dreams.

How can I still be mad at the lovely actress that said she could no longer be friends with people like me who didn’t ‘get’ it, knowing how incredibly kind she is with every child she meets.

I am humbled by the example of my mother Pilar and how she was able to forgive the WW2 occupiers of her Philippines who killed both her brothers.

At last it is forgiveness itself that is the gift that we give ourselves because it frees us as The Christ intends for all of us to be free. For His gift of ultimate and unlimited forgiveness is indeed the gift for all humanity.

May God bless you and your families now and forever.

With all my “You can do it” love, Robbie Schneider

(X - twitter post Oct. 31, 2023)

#Rob Schneider #SNL alumnus #Comedian #Celebrity #Christian #Lord Jesus Christ #Catholic convert #Forgiveness #Dr. M. Scott Peck #Norm Macdonald #Twitter post #Freedom

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virtuouswhitehatorganization · 9 months ago

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Estrella Cacho (Villainous Oc)

Name: Estrella Cacho

Ethnicity: Filipina-American

Residence: Steepburg

Headcannon Voice Actor: Lea Salonga (English); Maggie Vera (Spanish)

Relatives: Pia Cacho (daughter) ; Santiago Cacho (husband-deceased)

Age: Same Age As Pilar

Occupation: Chronically unemployed; Personal manager

Sexuality: Straight

Personality: She is at heart a terrible mother who uses her child in order to exploit her status as a sidekick. She pressures her daughter to always follow her demands even at the expense of her mental, emotional, and even physical wellbeing. She is a suck up who will cozy up to anyone who will give her a chance to make her daughter big. She is very dismissive towards her daughter's opinions and will shut her down quickly if contradicts her own plans. She also doesn't care that the superhero her daughter is working under is abusing her as long as they can ride the coattails of being associated with him. She also has a manipulative streak where she plays on her daughter's sympathy in order to guilt trip her into doing stuff with the fact that they will have money troubles if she quits. She also uses her husband's death as the reason why she's the way she is to get sympathy which is also how she can sometimes get her daughter to still give her leeway. She also is obsessed with being young and as a result acts really immature for a middle aged woman. She often dresses and behaves more like a woman in her 20's rather than a woman with a late teen daughter. She is seen as an irresponsible woman who often has a habit of mismanaging finances and encouraging bad behavior towards younger people in order to be seen as the cool mom (when in reality they see her as pathetic and desperate to get any sort of validation.) She is also very promiscuous and has a tendency to flirt towards any man who catches her eye (and especially loves coming onto younger ones). She is also very dismissive of her daughter going to college seeing it as a waste of time and just make her focus on her career.

Background: The single mother of the up and coming sidekick, Detacha, she has trained her daughter for years to one day become a sidekick and lift them out of their poor circumstances. She made sure to sign up for the sidekick program when she was old enough and was ecstatic when she was chosen. She became her personal manager and continued to be a watchdog over her. Her daughter was then made the sidekick of their town's hero, Power Body, which delighted her. However, it became more and more apparent he was very abusive towards Detacha and her daughter voiced her concerns. Instead of being upset by this, she ignored her please and encouraged her to stay with him in order to potentially reap the rewards of staying with a well-known superhero. Her daughter eventually would get the help of friends to escape her influence, get paired with Ms. Sensation, and find a way to rat out Power Body's abuse.

* She is made to be the complete opposite of Pilar in character.

* Her character is inspired by Leanne Platter from King of the Hill and Sarah Lynn's mother from Bojack.

* She is an alcoholic and has misspent a lot of money on booze. It also caused her tons of problems with jobs.

* Due to her irresponsible behavior, her daughter had to grow up fast and take care of herself often as she got into middle school.

* She knows English, Spanish, and even Tagalong.

* She never went to college.

* She and Pilar will meet and the latter will really let her have it once she hears and sees for herself how she treats her daughter.

* She has even slept with Power Body in order to make her daughter keep favor with him and because she wanted the bragging rights of sleeping with a noted superhero.

* Noting her age will get her mad.

Created through picrew.me/en/image_maker/41689…

#villainous #villanos #villainous oc #villanos oc #oc

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swaggypsyduck · 2 years ago

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I don’t even wanna know (I actually do wanna know) what would happen to you if you saw Sergio’s 🍆 pic 🌝🫢

i had to really think about this one bc if never actually thought of this before??? there's probably 3ish main ways id ever see sergio's dick:

1) paparazzi catch him lacking and i see it scrolling on twt in which case id report all the posts w the pics bc that's a horrible thing to happen to someone.

2) he willingly releases a full nude photoshoot to redo the semi nude one he did when he was younger. id take a peak just to see what pilar is raving about doing everyday. and maybe save the pics but cover his dick so i can still look at them

3) i somehow get in contact w him and we get flirty (im delusional let me live) i need it to be a) under the impression that pilar knows about it and agreed to bc id never do the queen mother dirty like that and b) that pilar is also a willing participant and they send pics together. i just need 5mins alone w them pls ik they'd let me be their third 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️(i can be their controversial young lover if they'll have me. if yall see them w a third it's me shut up and dont go saying ive been manipulated. LET ME LIVE MY DREAM OKAY)

okay but on a real note if an athlete sent me an unsolicited dick pic im definitely using that to get me some money for my silence LOL. if u traumatize me imma need financial compensation.

#i dont think genitals in general are attractive #so idk lol #ive never actually thought of this bc in my head being their third is holding both their hands #frolicking in a field of flowers n stuff #asks #moots🫶🏼

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5ammi90 · 1 year ago

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Episode 4

Whoops. Boys, public place. Keep it pg. Sarah just got an eye full.

Take 2. Nope. Oh god. He’s using dead grandma’s throw to hide his boner. 🤣🤣.

Take 3. Supply closet. Wait, isn’t that Lake and Felix’s spot. Yes it is. Whoops. Felix touched Benji’s butt. 🤣🤣 apparently it’s identical to Lake’s. This is my favourite episode, this peak comedy. Lake and Benji just checked out each other’s butt. 🤣🤣 I don’t know if she meant it was a huge compliment her butt being compared to his or if she meant he should take as a huge compliment his being compared to hers. Either this is funny as fuck and I love it. Now they are bonding over the fact that they can’t find somewhere for “private time”. This friend group kills me. Ooooooo a cabin.

Benji and Lake friendship is brilliant. “Butt twin”. Yes Lake. Felix, don’t say that and never say that again.

Oh he made you a scone, nice Tyler. Lake no. Don’t invite Mia. Wait, when did Andrew and Lucy get invited.

Oh shit. Victor be very careful how you word and ask this because it could be terrible. Shit nevermind. Go Mando. Shut up Isa. Adrian, that won’t happen babe. Thanks Pilar. There was so much shade in that sentence Isa.

Uh oh. Victor is freaking, wants advice from Simon and there is no service. Benji, I think you forgot to tell us something. Dang no service or WiFi. Good luck Victor. Oop wait Benji is shirtless Victor is distracted. Nope. Boy be panicking.

Tyler and Mia broke down and Lake has no service or WiFi. Wow Tyler you are, he is serious. Oh my god.

Isa there is no good cop, bad cop. How do you lose a turtle???

Andrew and Lucy have arrived. Victor is still freaking the hell out and Felix is failing at seducing Lake. Benji is concerned about Victor. He is terrible at hiding his emotions. (Victor). General store has service. Run Victor. (And Felix apparently).

Best friends are worried. No she is. She’s just unsure. Yes he’s very stressed Felix. Victor, Benji has done this before, you’ll be fine. Panic calling the gay guru. Felix, don’t listen to Andrew but kinda listen to part of what he’s saying. Oh dear god no. Don’t listen to that part. Andrew got vodka. Smart man. Although Victor, I don’t think Benji is gonna go for that.

Yay underage drinking. Oh great drinking games. Lake stop being obsessed with getting Benji naked. Chill. They all just stared at her. ‘Never have I ever’ it is. Benji what the fuck. What does your mailman look like. Benji god damn. You are scarring Victor with your experience, Victor chill, that means you don’t have to be super stressed. Victor has fled. Hi Mia. Oh dear god. It’s okay Mia. Um slow girl slow.

Hey look he got service. No wait that’s a concussion. Well done Victor. Nope wait no just a cut over his eyebrow. Hi Felix. Wait, Felix, that blood on a towel. What have you done to yourself. Conditioner. Oh Felix. You two are hopeless.

Please explain to your girlfriend that you are stupid. That’s not what I said. There you go. Yeah sit him down Lake. Oh she has her own body image issues. Thanks Lake’s mum, we hate you. Glad you guys communicated. Proud of you.

Oh no Lucy. They’re just friends, I swear.

Yeah Benji you tell him. Victor TALK TO HIM. Thank you. Benji, help this idiot.

Oh god Lake wait. That water, his cuts. Boy is gonna get an infection. Skinny dipping is definitely stupid. Don’t know bout fun but go off. Oh wait apparently the water feels good.

Isa, Mando. No. Found the turtle.

They had sex outside. Well damn Felix. On a Lake. Lol.

Oh that’s, okay. We’ve said three words. Well done Victor.

#love victor

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waru-chan8 · 2 years ago

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So I think I own you this post.

What is El Desafío?

It’s a talent show where famous people (singers, chef, sportsperson, actors, actress, writers, TV presenters, etc) show off skills that are far away from their normal skills. They also face personal challenge such as facing their fear of highs, been burn alive or drawn

Those challenge are often physics but there are others that consists in learning to play an instrument or learning a dance (one had the pan one, and dancing in the water while is ‘raining’) or moving heavy vehicles (pushing a quad up 11 stairs, doing a complet turn in a 2x2 space and down or move a lorry over glass cups without braking) or learning to shut a weapon. There’s also a face off between 2 different contestats.

All concursants need to go though a challenge called apnea, that consist to hold your breath underwater as long as you can.

How do they won?

Each gala, after all challenge the jury (Santiago, Juan and Pilar) gave points from 1 to 7 and 10 that gets put together, and each gala accumulates to the others. The one in the top is going to win.

What do they win?

Each gala the contestat with the most points get a 6000euros* to donate to whatever cause or NGO they want.

After all the galas (10), the winner gets 30000 euros to donate to an NGO or a cause they want and a BMW car for them.

*+500 euros each 30s that manages to stay underwater the apnea contestant.

Apparently there 10 galas. They are broadcast Fridays 10 p.m Madrid time, and if I can watch them on time, I’ll live blogging it with El Desafío lb, just in case you want to block the tag. I won’t be able to post Jorge’s bit until Saturday-Monday.

As I get to know more about the program, I’ll be going updating this because this is my first time watching it.

Jorge’s challenge so far:

Gala 1: Face off - duel in the heights against Flo, he wins

Gala 2: The human torch. They are going to set Jorge on fire.

Gala 3: Disco GP. Apparently is a dancing/singing one (?) Jorge will be the main character of his own musical!

Gala 4: Extrem aim/accuracy. Jorge will learn how to shoot

Gala 5: apnea

Gala 6: Drone pilot

Gala 7: Films Percussion

Gala 8 - Semifinal 1: Face off - still ring challenge against Laura Escanes. He wins

Gala 9 - Semifinal 2: dancing treadmills (he will dance on treadmills)

Gala 10 - Final: tightrope walker

I’m going to add also the apnea challenge here.

Gala 1: Ana Guerra - 2 minutes 27 seconds (they add 2500 euros)

Gala 2: Flo - 3 minutes 30 seconds (they added 3500 euros)

Gala 3: Jorge Blanco - 4 minutes 13 seconds (they added 4000 euros)

Gala 4: Laura Escanes - 3 minutes 40 seconds (they added 3500 euros)

Gala 5: Jorge Lorenzo - 3 minutes 33 seconds (they add 3500 euros)

Gala 6: Boris Izaguirre (but he might not do it as he suffered a stroke while recording el Desafío) No apnea this gala

Gala 7: Rosa López - 4 minues 40 seconds. The new all record for this challenge. (they add 4500 euros)

Gala 8 - Semifinal 1: Mariló Montero - 4 minutes 8 seconds (they added 4000 euros).

Gala 9 - Semifinal 2: Boris Izaguirre - 1 minute 16 seconds (they added 1000 euros)

Gala 10 - Final: there’ no apnea

Edit: For those who read the translation. I did my best, but I’m sure there are better translations,, They are nosy as hell and very one speaks over everyone. They use a lot of surprise expression that are difficult to translate in English. And on top of that, Juan, one of the judges is a pain in the ass to translate. He likes to use very long and complicated words and he starts the sentences in 3 different ways. He also uses a lot one expression that there’s no way I can translate it directly to English and I think I translated in in several different ways.

Anyway, I do my best with them.

#El Desafío #Antena3 #Jorge Lorenzo

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longeyelashedtragedy · 1 year ago

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your wip collection is insanely wonderful. Arsenal crime au??? tell me when. also the locker room fic but, you know, no pressure.

my words (or any conjugation of them?): gentle, bloody, touch

thank you! so far i've really just talked about the crime AU with @colorsofmyseason and i don't yet know what role everyone has. mikel himself is this mysterious and menacing underworld figure and i don't think anyone even knows exactly what he does 👀 martin poisons people and aaron is a corrupt cop (as part of rob's Sad Backstory)

let's see...

gentle:

He’s fast. So Dejan moves fast, too. Fuck being a gentleman. If he was ever that, he hasn’t been for a long time now. He takes Šime by the shoulders, glancing at the big cross on his chest for a moment, and pushes him hard onto the bed. (mare liberum)

The door slams and Granit stares at his brother and his cousin.

“Are you high? I hope not. And put your fucking dick away. God.”

“Taulant.” Agon grabs Taulant’s arm, and his voice is shaking. “Be--be gentle. Okay?” (dangerous AU flashback chapter 2)

Sergio shrugs. “You can say whatever you want. Just, I’m not a very good…therapist. That’s Pilar’s thing.”

“What, because she’s a woman?” Shakira rolls her eyes. “Gerard always said he liked what an asshole you were. I don’t think I can say the same.”

“And I always felt that way about him,” Sergio admits. “But the kind of asshole he turned out to be? Nah, I’m an asshole, maybe, but I’m a gentleman too.” (revenge pegging!!!)

bloody:

And I get along with everyone, he adds.

The captain snorts. Oh, you do? Some of my men were talking. There was a fight down at one of the pubs. One of the men in the fight got beaten to a bloody pulp. They’re not sure if he lived. His eyes sweep over Dejan’s face. Show me your hands. (mare liberum)

somehow that's...it for 'bloody' from my WIPs? Dangerous AU has it in chapters already published hahaha

touch:

Who else would send Mason a video from an out-of-touch middle-aged-man angle with terrible lighting? ('bitter mutual cheating' fic...really could use a title lol)

“Yeah, I saw him kill a guy once, in Hamburg,” Xherdan offers. “I don’t think you should touch him.”

“You saw him WHAT???”

“Brozo, shut up, you can’t possibly not know this,” Luka says. “C’mon, Dejo. Show him what you got.” (mare liberum)

Mladen’s current favorite song is Touch the Sky, and he gets on the bus singing obnoxiously over his headphones:

“Testify, come up in the spot looking extra fly, for the day I die, Imma touch the SKY!”

Ivan sighs. He isn’t sure if he’s in the mood for Mladen today, but his friend slides into the seat Ivan’s left free for him, bumping their hips together on purpose. “What are you listening to?” He takes Ivan’s iPod instead of waiting for an answer. “Dude. You’ve been listening to this all week.” (ivan coming of age fic)

Christine's had her hair tied back and she takes it down and shakes it out around her shoulders as she looks away from the window. It is pretty hair, darker than his used to be, and she looks nice the way things in a museum look nice. You admire them without touching and then you leave them there. (10022...damn this fic must have some serious diversity of word choices...it keeps coming up)

Granit slips him another bundle of 100-euro notes. That gets him the right to put his hands on Angelo’s chest and touch his skinny stomach and little nipples. Sure, money can’t buy love, but Granit knows he’ll never have that anyway, and money can buy all the rest of it. (dangerous AU flashback 2)

And then Granit flips Leandro onto his stomach and kisses hot and wet up and down his spine and touches him less delicately than Kieran and Martin now do, but still with respect.

Mikel Arteta watches it all without a word, his dark eyes boring holes into his boyfriend and into Leandro. (leo's memories from criminals au)

Granit touches the back of Milot’s neck. This morning he had taken the chain from around his neck and given it to Milot. It was a gift from his uncle. He doesn’t need that anymore. And it’s a nice way for Milot to know he belongs to someone now. (another dangerous AU flashback)

Leandro is starving. He wishes there were a squatter in the building, a burglar, someone. Anyone. It would spoil him from the meal he plans for later, sure, but he’s feeling slightly light-headed, his skin cold even to his own touch. But the next human he’s likely to see is Rob, and he doesn’t wish to feed from him. (criminals AU)

“He is so smooth. Touch him Mikel, come on.”

At the feeling of his manager’s hand on his balls Martin’s face burns the color of their home kit. (xhakarteta X martin threesome that i've abandoned!)

“You have blood all over your face,” Granit comments.

“Yes. Don’t—don’t touch my face. I don’t want it on you.” (dangerous AU christmas chapter)

Šime flops into the passenger seat. He doesn’t want to be rude to Vanja, or make anything even more awkward. But it’s just that up here Luka’s cologne smells so strong and it would be so easy to reach over and just touch him while telling him he still thinks about being a Zadarska Dica with him just about every week. And he’s so bad at resisting temptation when he’s drunk. ("we light up the world, ancient luka/šime fic)

#thanksssss!!!!#purefractals #answered #fic saga

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fanfiction-collection · 6 months ago

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okay this got really long so it's getting a read more link for everyone's sanity

[You did care. You cared so much, you thought you might throw up.] - I feel sol in this one. I hope one day she fully realises that Ingrid isn't going to desert her 🥺

[He’d already let the boys go with a warning. He hadn’t even called their parents.] - these people have got to stop being so mean to sol while showing favouritism to others, she doesn't deserve this 😔

[Mapi asked bitingly, scowling at the man on the other side of the desk] - you tell him Mapi. I love seeing protective Mapi for her sol <3

[You told her, watching as her face hardened.] - Mapi switching from compliant to just doing what's best for sol regardless of the consequences when she realises what the dean is like is so <3

[Her girlfriend picked up astoundingly quickly considering she was supposed to be training] - Ingrid ready to support her sister instantlyyyy, things we love to see

[There wasn’t a fight you’d gotten into that you didn’t have to take care of your own cuts and bruises. No one ever heard you out, no one was ever not mad at you.] - poor sol has really been through so much

[she was back to being the Mapi you knew] - Mapi 🥰 knowing just what to do to make sure sol is comfortable and taken care of in every way

[So, you laid on the couch, your head in your sister’s lap] - this scene is so domestic and sweet, it's just such nice vibesss

[trying to breathe through the panic that always accompanied honesty] - I feel such a weird sense of pride when Sol is honest about her feeling, like wow, look how far she's come

[Scout was perched on the end of your bed protectively, and Bagheera was curled up against your chest] - good animals 😌

[You knew she was faking her dislike of your dog at this point, but it was more fun to go along with it] - always the same with the "we're not getting a dog" people 😌

[It was something Mapi’s eyes did and while you weren’t sure how Ingrid had picked that up from her girlfriend, there was no question in your mind that she had] - that's so cute 😭

[I would drop everything to get to you. So would María] - something about the way Ingrid speaks so confidently for herself and Mapi that Sol is their biggest priority <3

[“I know you’ve felt really alone these last few years. But you aren’t anymore, okay? I’m right here with you.”] - oh I love them, this is so sweet

[“Just don’t tell-” / “AHEM.” Mapi cleared her throat from the doorway] - perfect comedic timing from Mapi lmao

[You and Ingrid pulled yourselves together, forcing serious expressions onto your faces.] - again, I love how well they all get on enough that they can know when to team up to annoy the third person 🫶

[“Ingrid,” she cried, overcome with panic.] - them both jumping into action and Mapi being the worried one in the situation! I love it all

[She wondered, poking your cheek a few times as your eyes remained firmly shut] - this imagery is such a change to the serious circumstances and Mapi's worry, just imagining her curiously prodding at sol's face 😭

[all thoughts of being afraid of getting in trouble for breaking the picture frame] - it's sad that Sol is already worrying about this at 8 years old, her mum has already established the norm :(

[making sure the picture was unharmed] - dedicating this to my neighbour who checked her hedge was okay while 8-year-old me was crying and bleeding on the pavement beside her lol

[Do you feel sick?] - the dichotomy of their mum being shocked when Sol throws up at seeing blood vs Ingrid expecting and preparing for it 🥺 only one of them deserves Sol

[Ingrid realized that her love for María Pilar León Cebrián had grown exponentially in the past few months] - Mapi rightfully earning that almost favourite person status from both Engens :)

give yourself a reason

engen!reader memories, and the present. changes. sol reflects on how different her life is now. good different. even if getting to the good was hard. here she is.

warnings: discussions of depression. sol gets into a fight. with people, and then a mug and a picture frame so, some blood.

------

It was a bit of a deja vu moment, honestly. You were sitting in the dean’s office once again, only a couple months after the last time. Then, you had been pretending you didn’t care. A lot had happened since, and a casualty of the progress you’d made was that you could no longer pretend not to care. You did care. You cared so much, you thought you might throw up.

You’d begged them not to call Ingrid. Begged. They had anyway. You couldn’t help but worry about her reaction to this most recent fight, though it hadn’t been your fault. You hadn’t been in trouble since everything had happened, and you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Would everything change? Would Ingrid still want you? Every set back you had, every mistake you made, had you convinced that Ingrid was going to change her mind, and send you back to Norway. You were working on it, thinking of yourself as worthy of their love, but it wasn’t easy, and you felt your eyes stinging with tears that had nothing to do with the beating your face had taken.

You weren’t sure you could go back to not feeling loved, not when you’d been experiencing something so different recently. The dean didn’t seem to care that your face was rapidly swelling, that you were crying, or that you hadn’t stopped bouncing your knee since you’d been brought into the office. He’d already let the boys go with a warning. He hadn’t even called their parents. You didn’t know what to do when Ingrid arrived, didn’t know whether to try to explain, or to stay quiet and just take your punishment.

You felt so weak, suddenly. Crying, in front of this absolute asshole? Normally, you’d never let a person you didn’t know well see you this emotional, but your face really hurt, and honestly, you just wanted a hug. You were pretty terrified, though, that you wouldn’t get one.

That you didn’t deserve one.

The speaker in the office crackled to life, then, and the secretary’s voice rang out into the room. “Ms. Engen’s guardian is here.”

The dean took a break from glaring at you to hit the button on the speaker. “Send her in.”

You directed your gaze at the ground and tried to make yourself as small as possible, hearing the door open behind you.

“Mi sol, are you okay?” Mapi said instantly, moving quickly into the room and crouching down next to your chair. You refused to look at her, and she knew she had to be careful about this. Mapi showing up instead of Ingrid was a relief, but only for a moment. Then, you were just worried that she was too mad to come get you.

“I was expecting the elder Ms. Engen,” the principal began, though he was quickly interrupted by your sister’s girlfriend.

“Ingrid couldn’t get away from work, and I am a guardian too. Her face is bleeding, and her hands. Has she been seen by the nurse?” Mapi asked bitingly, scowling at the man on the other side of the desk.

He looked a little put out. “Well, no, we were-”

“Jesus, she could have a concussion.” Mapi snapped, her gentle hand on your back completely contradicting her sharp tone.

“I don’t think-”

Mapi ignored his response completely, slowly moving her hand up and down your back. You were shaking, and Mapi knew that if she wanted to avoid a panic attack, she had to do something, soon.

“Mi sol?” she asked in a much softer tone, frowning when you shook your head. You knew if you looked at Mapi you’d burst into tears, and you absolutely did not want to do that in front of the dean.

Mapi thought for a minute, before she turned back to the man. “Can we have a minute please.”

It wasn’t really posed as a question, and the man frowned at Mapi before nodding somewhat indignantly and walking out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, you looked up, breaking Mapi’s heart with the terrified look on your face, and the rough sob that fell from your lips.

“Oh, nena,” Mapi sighed, seeing the extent of the damage to your face for the first time. It was mostly bruises and a very swollen lip. Your knuckles were swollen, too, but there were very few cuts on your face, and for that, she was glad. Mapi’s hands flitted over your face, her own scrunched with worry. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Is Ingrid mad? Is that why she isn’t here?” You choked out.

Mapi shook her head, carefully wiping a tear off your face. “No, no, she couldn’t get away from training. She isn’t mad, I promise, she sent me to come bring you to her so she could see you were okay.”

“Are you sure she’s not mad?”

“I promise, cariño. She is not mad at you.” Mapi replied seriously. “Tell me what happened.”

“They came at me, Mapi, I promise I didn’t start it.” You cried, almost pleading with her to believe you.

“I believe you, I believe you.” The Spaniard soothed. “Where are they?”

“He let them go with a warning.” You told her, watching as her face hardened. She seemed to think for a minute, before she stood, gesturing for you to do the same.

“Fuck this. I’m taking you to your sister. Ingrid and I will come back later to speak to the dean and see the security footage. Venga.”

“Mapi, I’m in trouble,” you tried to tell her, but she just shook her head.

“Not with us. We’ll deal with it later, I promise. I want to get you taken care of and calmed down first, and I don’t think I can do that here.” Mapi told you gently, pulling you out of the room when you nodded hesitantly. You hadn’t realized you were shaking intensely until Mapi had mentioned getting you calmed down. You supposed you were getting close to a panic attack, and just hadn’t noticed.

You continued to tune out as Mapi led you out of the office, standing in front of you protectively when she addressed the dean.

“Ingrid and I will be back later to discuss the situation. We’re leaving now.” She told him.

He looked at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “She can’t just leave, we have to discuss her punishment.”

“We can discuss it later.” Mapi repeated, turning without another word towards the door, guiding you out of the school.

Once you were out the door, Mapi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, steadying your shaky steps. “Alright, we’re almost to the car, just hang on, okay?”

You could only nod in response, starting to lose yourself in your head, clinging tightly onto Mapi. Time seemed to speed up, or skip ahead entirely as suddenly you found yourself in the passenger seat of the car, your sister’s girlfriend buckling your seatbelt for you.

“In and out, nena. Just breathe. Everything is okay. No one is upset with you.” Mapi was saying, waiting for you to give a faint nod before she made her way over to the driver's side door. It was quiet in the car save for the hum of the engine and the gasping inhales and exhales coming from you every few seconds.

“Tell me what you’re worried about.” Mapi instructed, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Ingrid- Ingrid is gonna be mad and make me go back to Norway,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as another wave of panic washed over you.

“That is not going to happen.” Mapi said confidently, grabbing her phone and clicking Ingrid’s contact. Her girlfriend picked up astoundingly quickly considering she was supposed to be training, and her voice over the phone made you both terrified and reassured at the same time.

“We’re in the car, she was too upset, we can come talk to the dean later.”

“What do you mean she’s too upset? Is she okay?” Ingrid asked worriedly.

“Talk to her.” Mapi instructed, holding the phone out to you. You looked at her pleadingly, but she just nodded encouragingly, eyes fixed on the road in front of her. “It’s okay, nena, just tell Ingrid what you told me.”

Ingrid could tell when you took the phone, as she could suddenly hear your rapid breaths as you gulped in air and tried to get the words out. “Hey, it’s just me. You can tell me.” Ingrid said softly.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Mapi’s thumb tracing over the back of your hand instead of the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “M’ scared you’re mad and you’re going to send me back to Norway.”

“I’m not mad. This wasn’t your fault, just like the last one wasn’t, and I am not angry with you. You are not going back to Norway. You are staying right here with me and Mapi. You’re okay, Solstråle, I promise.”

“Okay.” You said, nodding your head as you replayed her words over and over in your head. “Okay.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I have to go, but Mapi is bringing you over, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

Mapi quickly bid her girlfriend a goodbye before hanging up, though her hand didn’t release yours for the rest of the car ride.

Getting to the Barça grounds was somewhat of a blur, and before you knew it, Mapi was leading you to the pitch where Ingrid was running drills. When Ingrid spotted you, loitering on the sidelines, she spoke a few quick words to Jona before making her way over.. You were half hidden behind Mapi, which was no accident, but the concern on Ingrid’s face brought another round of tears to your eyes. You stepped forward anxiously, bottom lip beginning to wobble.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ingrid sighed, getting a quick look at the wounds on your face before you were barrelling into her and wrapping your arms tightly around your sister. “Hey, it’s okay.” She whispered, running her hand through your tangled hair in a soothing manner.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you blubbered. If you had been even a smidge calmer, you would have been embarrassed about sobbing into your sister’s training kit in front of most of the team.

“Don’t apologize, Solstråle. Everything is okay.” She soothed, looking over your shoulder at Mapi, before pulling away from the hug to examine your face. She frowned deeply at the damage that had been inflicted, trying to shove her anger down. It would only scare you further, and you really didn’t need that right now.

“It hurts,” you whimpered, flinching as Ingrid’s finger accidentally made contact with an already forming bruise. The way you were acting was so out of character for you, Ingrid felt her worry growing by the second. You were so upset, you were shaking and sobbing. It hadn’t really occurred to anyone how triggering this might be for you, what a reminder this fight would be. Not just of what had happened a few months ago, but of your time in Norway. There wasn’t a fight you’d gotten into that you didn’t have to take care of your own cuts and bruises. No one ever heard you out, no one was ever not mad at you.

A fight had been the last straw before you were sent to Spain, and it was as if all the feelings you’d repressed during those occasions were flooding back through your body, until your nervous system was in overdrive.

“Solstråle,” Ingrid said again, trying to get your attention back on her. You hummed in response, forcing your eyes to focus on your sister. “Two options, okay? We can have the physios patch your face up, or we can go see a doctor. What would you prefer?”

It was something Mapi had read in her definitely-not-a-parenting parenting book. Giving you options in a situation you were anxious about forced you to calm down a bit, and choose. It gave you a sense of control, while still ensuring that you did what had to be done.

“Physios.” You told her, after just a minute of consideration. “Go back to training, Ingrid. I’ll be okay.”

You were trying to be brave, Ingrid could tell. She allowed you this façade, and with both an encouraging smile and a promise that she’d come see you in a minute, she ran back to the pitch. Mapi led you inside, her arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

The physios were a tolerable experience, completely allowing Mapi to direct them. They didn’t touch you unless you agreed, each time asking before they made sure your lip was okay, or inspected a forming bruise. You very rarely got to see intense Mapi off the pitch, and it was interesting to see it now. When she spoke to the physios, asking question after question about your injuries, she was dead serious. When she turned to you, though, to shoot you an encouraging smile or squeeze your hand, she was back to being the Mapi you knew.

She took care of you like you were her own.

------

Upon returning home, Ingrid refused to let you retreat to your room and hide yourself away. You’d spent too long alone, when you’d first arrived. She was going to support you, and she intended to prove that.

So, you laid on the couch, your head in your sister’s lap, a Norwegian sitcom playing on the TV. Ingrid was holding ice to one of your eyes, glaring down at you anytime you tried to remove the other ice laid across your knuckles. Mapi was making pancakes in the kitchen, at your request. Scout was on the floor next to the couch, though he picked his head up to check on you every few minutes.

You were home, and you couldn’t help but compare today to the last time.

Ingrid had come to the school, and been furious at you. Today, she was furious for you.

They’d left you that night, to go off to some team dinner. Now, you weren’t quite sure that Ingrid was going to let you out of her sight for at least a few days.

You’d been alone, then, and now you weren’t.

And though today had been pretty horrific, it was another little reminder of how different everything was. You loved those reminders, and you got them often. You tried to remember each one, how good it felt. To be loved, to be seen. To be liked. To be cared for. It was new, and it always surprised you a little. Every time something happened, and you remembered what it had been like to be alone, Ingrid and Mapi were there to remind you that you weren’t anymore.

It was just one of those days.

You wanted to stay home, like you wanted to on that day. Before, when everything in the house had been tense and you’d barely spoken to your sister. School had been difficult back then, not that it wasn’t now, but more difficult. Ingrid knew how much you were struggling, but assumed it was a lack of effort on your part. And so, when you quietly asked her if you could stay home because you weren’t feeling the best, Ingrid hadn’t believed you.

“Ingrid, please. I really don’t feel well.” You begged, fighting back the tears that were pricking at your eyes, even though you knew that they would probably help your case.

“How? What doesn’t feel well?” Ingrid asked, trying to be patient. Your hatred of school was starting to bother her. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just try a little harder. At your work, and at making friends.

You floundered for a minute, not sure how to describe what you were feeling. You supposed the word was depressed, but there was no way you’d admit to that. Ingrid didn’t need to worry about you like you knew she would if she understood what was really going on. At the same time, you wished desperately that she would see through your excuses.

You’d been silent for too long, and Ingrid sighed, zipping up her bag for training and walking over to you. She didn’t look sympathetic, exactly, but she didn’t look as harsh as she normally did.

“I know school is hard. But skipping isn’t going to make anything better, okay? You just need to try a little harder.” She said, resting her hands on your shoulders and looking intently at your face. As usual, your expression gave very little away. All you gave her was a small shrug, before you picked your bag up with a sigh and headed for the car.

You were trying your best. How couldn’t she see that?

It hit you similarly today, as it had on that day.

You wanted to lay in your bed and not move. Your body was heavier than normal. Breathing was hard, moving was harder. All you could do was think. And think, and think, and think. It wasn’t sadness that you felt, not necessarily. It was exhaustion, and an almost numb ache.

You were pretty sure Ingrid wouldn’t make you go to school if you told her the truth, you just weren’t really sure what to say. It was nearing the time you were supposed to leave for school, though, and you still hadn’t gotten out of bed. It would only be a matter of time before Mapi came in to see why you hadn’t left your room yet. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, your whole body feeling too heavy, and you walked downstairs.

Ingrid was in the kitchen, eating breakfast while Mapi made all three of your coffees. Your sister turned to look at you, her good morning dying on her lips when she saw the look on your face. It must have been pretty bad, if Ingrid’s reaction was any indication.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ingrid asked, abandoning her breakfast to walk closer and place her hand on your forehead, checking for a fever.

“No.” You said honestly, trying to breathe through the panic that always accompanied honesty. Mapi joined Ingrid in front of you, her brow creased in concern. She couldn’t figure out from looking at you what was going on, you just looked… wrong. Unlike yourself.

“Are you sick?”

“No. I just… I don’t feel right.”

“What do you mean, Sol? What’s wrong?” Mapi asked, nudging Ingrid’s hand off your forehead to replace it with her own.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just want to go back to sleep.” You mumbled, a single tear falling down your face.

“Try to explain it to me?” Ingrid requested. You knew it was a request, though, and that made it easier to answer her. Her worry for you was coming off her in waves, and though you were pretty sure it was warranted, you didn’t want her to panic.

“It’s just a bad day. I’ll be okay.”

Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances, before your sister nodded slowly. You often described tough mental health days as simply bad days. You didn’t like to be overly descriptive, or really admit what was going on, and that was the closest you’d get.

“Okay, kjære. Go back up to bed.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, moving to turn away.

“Wait,” Mapi said, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you into a hug that was probably too tight, but felt nice all the same. Mapi’s hugs were always comforting, always made you feel safe. “You’ll be okay here by yourself?”

You knew what she was asking, and you tried to speak clearly, even with your chin resting on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “I will, promise.”

As soon as Mapi had released you, Ingrid was pressing a kiss to your forehead, a gesture that never really failed to make you emotional. You remember seeing your parents kiss her forehead when you were growing up. And while your parents never really did the same with you, Ingrid had. She was always willing to give you the love she was overflowing with, especially when you were sorely lacking it.

“I love you, okay? Call me if you need me.” Ingrid said firmly, almost as if to reinforce how much she meant it.

You agreed, promising yourself that you wouldn’t interrupt training. You knew they’d already be distracted by being worried about you, and you didn’t want to ruin their day anymore than you already were.

The logical part of you knew this was ridiculous. It was getting easier and easier to identify unhealthy thoughts, but a part of you still believed them. Especially when you were already having a bad day. You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already were.

You were the farthest thing from a burden for Ingrid and Mapi, but it was an almost insurmountable challenge to actually believe that.

-------

You’d hoped, perhaps, that by resting right off the bat, you’d escape the worst of the depressive episode. This was a naive thought. Or maybe, you would have if you’d asked your sister to stay home with you.

You really really didn’t want to be alone. It had been a while since you hadn’t felt safe around yourself, but here you were again. You thought you were done with this, over this. It was upsetting to realize that you weren’t, not completely. That this wasn’t something you could just… get over. It was a result of your brain chemistry as much as your lived experiences, and you could be smothered with all the love in the world. That wouldn’t fix the genuine problem inside your head.

You were asleep when Ingrid got home.

Her and Mapi weren’t expecting you to call them, even if you needed them, but they had texted you during a break and gotten no answer. Mapi tried not to speed home, but it was difficult when Ingrid was an anxious mess next to her in the passenger seat.

Upon arriving home, Ingrid dumped her bag right in the entry hall, not bothering to put it away like she normally did, and went right up to your room, sighing in relief at the sight of you in front of her. Mapi was right behind her, melting a bit at the way Scout was perched on the end of your bed protectively, and Bagheera was curled up against your chest. Both of them were taking care of you, she was sure. Bagheera would get a treat and some extra pets, for sure. And Scout would too, but when no one was looking. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

You awoke to the feeling of someone brushing their fingers through your hair. The reaction you had was different now than it had been a month ago, and Ingrid had done the same thing. Then, you’d startled awake, not used to the gentle touch. Now, you just shifted slightly, content to stay asleep as Ingrid settled on the bed next to you.

You felt Scout get off the bed, and Mapi begrudgingly agree to take him on a walk. You knew she was faking her dislike of your dog at this point, but it was more fun to go along with it and catch her napping with Scout or giving him extra treats.

It was only when the cat sneezed rather dramatically on your chest that you cracked an eye open, unimpressed with the lack of decorum from Bagheera. Ingrid was trying to stifle her laughter and you rolled your eyes, stretching and wiping the imaginary sneeze particles off your face.

“Hi.” You murmured, voice rough with sleep… and with crying, but you were hoping to keep that to yourself.

Ingrid smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the edges in the way they'd started to recently. It was something Mapi’s eyes did and while you weren’t sure how Ingrid had picked that up from her girlfriend, there was no question in your mind that she had. “Hi. How are you?”

You shrugged, the momentary distractions from your feelings fading as everything came screeching back into focus.

“Have you been crying?” Ingrid murmured, eyes stuck on the tear tracks staining your face.

“A bit. I’m fine.” You replied, trying your best to shake off her concern.

“You should have called me.” Your sister sighed.

You shook your head, sitting up against the headboard. It was then that you noticed for the first time that your sister was still in her training kit, when normally she’d shower and change after a session. Her and Mapi must have rushed home. The thought sent a weird feeling through your body; not bad… just different.

“No, I was fine. You had training, you can’t miss that for no reason.”

“There's not no reason. You were having a bad day, and you needed us. Why didn’t you call?”

You shrugged, but Ingrid continued to stare at you, awaiting an answer. “I didn’t want to make you choose between me and football.” you mumbled, picking at a hangnail and avoiding eye contact with your sister. She grabbed your hand though, and used her other hand to tilt your chin up until you were looking at her.

“There is no choice, Solstråle. I will always come when you need me. It could be the middle of the champions league final, or the middle of training, and I would drop everything to get to you. So would María.”

You grew teary, trying your best to not cry again. “Okay.” Your voice broke, and Ingrid felt like a piece of her heart went with it.

“Sol, I mean it. You are more important than any football match or training could ever be. More important than anything else could ever be. You are the most important thing to me.”

Your expression grew disbelieving, almost stunned. “I’m not worth all that,”

Ingrid tried not to groan in frustration. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you think she was upset with you, when she was upset with your parents, and with herself. “You are! Solstråle, you are worth that and more.”

You were getting better, definitely. But your self esteem was always something you struggled with, something you always probably would. No matter how convinced you were, now, that Ingrid and Mapi loved you and wanted you in Spain with them, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were important to them.

“It just… it wasn’t like that before. I’m not used to this.”

Ingrid’s face fell. “I know. I know you aren’t. But I promise you, sweetheart, even before, even when we argued all the time and I was so hard on you. I cared then just as much as I do now. I just didn’t understand how to help you. But I do now, right? It’s better now?”

A more confident nod from you. “A lot better.”

Your sister smiled gently. “I know you’ve felt really alone these last few years. But you aren’t anymore, okay? I’m right here with you.”

There was something behind her words that felt like a promise, but it wasn’t necessarily a promise you needed to hear. It was one Ingrid had already made through her actions. And through the flood of doubts and insecurities, you knew that she wouldn’t break that promise.

In that moment, you hated how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. How difficult it was for you to put words to your feelings, and express your appreciation and love for your sister. All you could do was try, though, right?

“Ingrid?” You mumbled after a minute of silence. Ingrid hummed in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand. “You… everything you’ve done for me. You’re just… you’re my favorite person. And I love you.”

Ingrid could have sobbed, truly. She, too, had struggled to share her feelings her whole life, as you had. She knew just how much it took for you to say something so sincere, and not even make a joke after it. The brunette pulled you in closer to her, leaving a kiss on the side of your head.

“You know that, right?” You wondered, after Ingrid hadn’t responded right away. She was trying to keep the deep emotion out of her voice, not wanting to make this moment even more difficult for you than she knew it already was. When you turned to look at her, though, catching her just as a tear slid down your face, you understood.

“I do know, Solstråle. And I love you, so much, min perfekte lillesøster.”

It didn't really matter as much, that you didn’t think you were perfect. Because for as long as you could remember, Ingrid had been the perfect one. And now she thought you were, too, and that was enough.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Ingrid added as an afterthought, pulling you into an even tighter hug. “Just don’t tell-”

“AHEM.” Mapi cleared her throat from the doorway. You whipped your head to look at her, both of you breaking into a fit of giggles at the sight of the very disgruntled defender standing in the doorway. “Well, your not favorite person just came up here to say that she was going to go get you both ice cream, but now…”

It was rather difficult to stop laughing, what with Mapi standing there with her arms crossed, a frown on her face, one foot stomp away from throwing a temper tantrum. You and Ingrid pulled yourselves together, forcing serious expressions onto your faces.

“Mapi, I was just trying to make Ingrid feel better about herself. You are my favorite. Of course.”

“Me too, mi amor. You are my favorite.” Ingrid grinned, before very obviously winking at you.

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Mapi turned on her heel and headed downstairs. “I am going to poison your ice cream.” She shouted over her shoulder.

Mapi was far from upset. It was enough for her that you seemed a bit better, and that her girlfriend’s anxiety had definitely lessened. Although, the day had clearly taken its toll on you and Ingrid, because when Mapi arrived home with the ice cream, she found you both passed out in your bed, your head resting on your sister’s shoulder.

You swore as you slipped in the small puddle of water on the kitchen floor, almost instantly losing your balance and falling with a thud. The mug you’d been holding fell, too, shattering on impact with the floor. You heard Ingrid call your name, evidently startled by the sound, and moved to sit up on instinct. Instead of putting your hand down on the cold floor, though, you smashed it right down into a pile of mug shards.

“Jævel!” You shouted, almost jumping at the burst of pain and bringing your hand to your chest. It was bleeding heavily, and you gasped, startled by the amount of blood flowing out of your hand. “Ow, ow, ow,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

“Sol? You okay?” Ingrid shouted from the top of the stairs.

You tried to reply, but Mapi beat you to it, appearing in front of you out of nowhere. “No, she cut her hand. Ven aquí! And bring a clean towel!” The Spaniard shouted, grabbing the broom from the closet and hastily sweeping the shards away from you so she could safely get closer.

“I’m sorry, Mapi, I’m so sorry,” you said shakily, sure that you were about to be in trouble for not being more careful. The water spill was your fault in the first place, and then it was what you slipped on. Now, you’d broken one of their favorite mugs, and you were getting blood all over the kitchen.

Mapi only had time to look at you, confused, before Ingrid came running into the room holding a hand towel from upstairs.

“Jesus, Sol,” Ingrid murmured, crouching down next to where you were and reaching for your hand. You mistook her statement as one of frustration, and not one of worry, and flinched away from her in a way you hadn’t in a very long time.

“I’m sorry Ingrid, I broke the mug,” you cried.

Ingrid exchanged a look with her girlfriend, before turning back to you. There was blood all over your shirt, dripping down where your good hand cradled the injured one. Your face was frighteningly pale, and you looked completely terrified. Ingrid paused, though all she wanted to do was get some pressure on your hand, forcing herself to calm down a bit. She wasn’t sure why you were reacting the way you were, but she knew by now to take it seriously.

“Don’t worry about the mug.” Ingrid said gently, holding her hand out again. “Let me see, Sol.”

With a pained whimper, you placed your hand in hers. Only then did you look at the wound, and both Mapi and Ingrid watched in alarm as the remaining color drained from your face.

Ingrid knew what was coming a second before it happened, hastily trying to cover your hand with the towel as you started to sway where you were sitting. “Fuck, she’s gonna pass out,” she warned, unable to catch you as she pressed the towel into your hand, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

Mapi dropped to her knees just as your eyes rolled back into your head, and you fell limp into her arms. “Ingrid,” she cried, overcome with panic.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s just bad with blood.” Ingrid assured her. She pulled the towel away temporarily to look at your hand, and saw a long slice across your palm. It wasn’t deep, and though you might have nicked a vein, Ingrid was pretty sure you wouldn’t need stitches. Readjusting the towel over your hand, she tried to give her girlfriend a calming smile. “It’s really okay, María. I promise, she just really hates blood.”

“She passed out!” Mapi yelped. “This does not feel okay!”

Ingrid bit back a laugh, knowing this wasn’t the time or the place. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes, just hold this towel while I get some water for her.”

Mapi took over with the towel, allowing your head to drop into her lap as Ingrid walked across the kitchen.

“Ingrid, do we have any smelling salts?” She wondered, poking your cheek a few times as your eyes remained firmly shut.

“Why, yes, María, let me go check my potion making kit.”

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm at the moment.” Mapi grumbled, again poking your face as your eyes started to scrunch together. You looked uncomfortable, and Mapi braced herself for you to wake back up and freak out again. Instead, you stayed unconscious for a few more seconds, unbeknownst to the Spaniard, reliving a memory you’d… kind of forgotten.

When the picture frame shattered on the wood floor, all you felt was panic. It was panic that led you to lean down and try to collect the pieces of glass in your hands. A second, much quieter crash was heard as a piece of glass shifted in your hand, cutting your finger open.

You’d never been good with blood, and you felt yourself getting lightheaded at just the sight of the small rivulets of blood forming across the cut. You shut your eyes tightly, all thoughts of being afraid of getting in trouble for breaking the picture frame flew out of your mind, and you were turning and shouting before you could stop yourself.

“Mamma! Mamma!” You yelled, growing dizzier and dizzier.

“Stop yelling, my goodness.” Mamma said, walking calmly into the room. She came to a sudden stop at the sight of the picture frame broken in front of you, before her face grew cold and mean. “What have you done!”

“I-I- I bumped the table and it fell and I tried to clean it up, but my finger, Mamma,” you cried, missing the anger on your moms face and leaning towards her for comfort as she moved closer.

“This is my favorite picture of your sister, couldn't you have been more careful! You are always breaking things, always making a mess. I am so tired of you and the stupid things you do when you don’t pay attention.” Mamma ranted, picking up the pieces of glass and making sure the picture was unharmed. “I should be the one crying, you broke my picture frame!”

Your stomach twisted at her tone, and at the drops of blood that were hitting the floor at your feet. You tried to fight it, knowing it would only make her more upset, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Keeling over, you threw up on the ground, whimpering as your mother gasped in surprise.

“What-”

“Mamma, my finger,” you sobbed, holding out the bloodied appendage towards your mother.

Some of the confusion left your Mamma’s eyes, knowing just how poorly you handled any kind of injury, on anyone.

“Oh, goodness. Come with me.” She said, not completely unkindly as she led you into the kitchen. There, she wrapped your finger up with a dish towel, holding pressure on it as you sniffled and hiccuped. She brushed a few flyaways out of your face, your hair always coming loose no matter how tight Ingrid braided it.

At the kind gesture, you relaxed a bit. Maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore. Cautiously, you allowed yourself to step in closer to her. “Hurts, Mamma.”

Some emotion, of what you weren’t sure, flashed across the older woman’s face and she sighed. “You’ll be fine. It is just a little cut. It is just a little blood, kjære. You are 8 years old. And 8 years old is too big to be getting this worked up over a small cut.”

“Sorry, Mamma.” You mumbled, scrubbing at your eyes with your good hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to stop crying even as pain burned through your finger, and all you wanted was a hug.

“Alright, no more blood, see? Now go get a bandaid while I clean up your mess.”

“Okay, Mamma.”

She sent you off with a kiss on the top of your head, but as you climbed the stairs, you heard the garage door open. That meant Ingrid was home. You knew she’d had a long day, but you couldn’t help the way your body sagged in relief now that she was home. Now that you’d get a hug.

That was, until you heard Mamma’s voice addressing your sister downstairs, as you rifled through the bandaid box, looking for a yellow one.

“Look what your sister did.” Mamma sighed. She sounded so disappointed, and you promised yourself to do better. Next time, you wouldn’t throw up. And you would clean up the mess all by yourself. Then, Mamma would be proud of you. Then, maybe she’d give you a hug.

When you came to, Mapi’s face was hovering ridiculously close to yours, and you jolted away from her.

“Sol! You’re awake!”

You tried to sit up, just as Ingrid’s voice rang from across the room. “Do not let her sit up yet, she’ll only make herself more dizzy.”

Mapi’s hands pushed your shoulders back to the ground and you frowned, seeing Ingrid appear above you holding the broom.

“No, Ingrid, I’ll clean it up,” you said weakly, even as your stomach turned at the sight of a bloody rag in your sister’s hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ingrid dismissed. “You stay right there until you feel better.”

Ingrid cleaned up the ceramic shards, and you wondered just how upset she’d be that you’d broken the mug. It was her and Mapi’s favorite. They had made it together in some pottery class, and they often fought over who got to use it in the morning for coffee. And you’d gone and broken it. Ingrid didn’t seem mad yet, but she would be… right?

After a few minutes of Mapi gently combing through your hair, she finally helped you sit up. Your sister appeared in front of you once again, first aid kit in hand, and sat down on the ground. She moved slowly as she reached for your hand, trying not to startle you. You held it out to her, leaning against Mapi and inhaling shakily.

“I looked when you were out, I don’t think you need stitches.” Your sister assured you, pausing when you only gave a short nod. “You okay? Do you feel sick?”

You shook your head firmly, clenching your jaw shut tight. Ingrid still didn’t unwrap the towel from your palm, still focused on the uneven way you were breathing, and the slightly green tint to your face.

Mapi rubbed her hand up and down your back comfortingly, exchanging a look with your sister. “It’s okay if you feel sick, Sol. Just tell me and we can get you a bag or something.”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t get sick when I see blood anymore.” You said, sounding almost angry.

Since when? Ingrid thought. Still, she got to work disinfecting your hand and cleaning it up. Once she’d wrapped a large bandage around it, having tried her best to ignore the way your good hand was clenched into a fist so tight it looked painful.

Once your sister was done, she helped you to your feet, holding her arms open for a hug. You looked between her and Mapi suspiciously, a frown set on your face. “You’re… not mad?”

“Why would we be mad?” Ingrid wondered, leading you into the living room, having decided to make you rest on the sofa for a while until you looked less ill.

You followed her lead, albeit still sounding very confused. “Because… I made a mess. And I didn’t clean it up. And I broke your favorite mug.”

Ingrid couldn’t figure out what you were so worked up about. “It wasn’t on purpose, Sol. And you were hurt, why would you clean it up?”

“I should have been more careful. And it was my mess. I should have… I should have cleaned it up.”

It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of something, a somewhat vacant expression on your face. Ingrid had the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the one that appeared whenever your sister discovered another piece of the puzzle; the puzzle of why you were the way you were, why you’d left Norway. Most of the time, the pieces were intrinsically linked to your mother. And Ingrid really hated that.

So, she wasn’t quite sure what the specific issue in this situation was. But she knew you well enough to know what would make you feel better. Taking a seat on the couch next to you, your sister brought you into a tight hug, feeling the way you froze at first, before melting into her.

“I don’t care about the mess.” She promised, before she leaned back, her expression contradicting her words slightly as she took in the blood on your shirt.

You smiled weakly at her, not quite sure you believed her words. “I’ll go change-”

“No!” Ingrid interrupted. “I’ll go get you a new shirt, yeah? You just stay here.”

With that, your sister took off up the stairs, and you were left in deep thought on the couch. Mapi took Ingrid’s spot pretty quickly, handing you a glass of water to sip from as she studied your expression.

Mapi nudged you with her knee. “What are you thinking about?”

“I broke a picture frame once. It was of Ingrid and Mamma, and the picture was completely fine but the glass broke and I cut my finger on it. But my mom was really mad about the mess. She said she was tired of me and the messes I made. I just… thought you’d be upset. It was your guys’ favorite mug. I thought you’d be mad.”

Understanding dawned across Mapi’s face and she scooted closer, until her shoulder pressed to yours. “I don’t care about the mug. And neither does your sister. We’re both just glad you’re okay, that’s all we care about.”

“Really?” You asked in a small voice.

“Sol, you could break everything in this house, crash my motorbike, and ruin my favorite sweatshirt. And I’d still want you here. I’d still love you, nena.” Mapi assured you, not a single trace of doubt detectable in her voice.

You looked away from her, the eye contact combined with her words proving to be too much. “I love you too.” You choked out, still looking away from Mapi, but leaning closer into her. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How could you not? I am the best.” Mapi said seriously.

And then the tears in your eyes were forgotten as you laughed, always shocked at Mapi’s ability to take your mind off something emotional. Always shocked, but always so grateful.

When Ingrid reentered the room with one of her shirts in hand, it was to find you and María in absolute hysterics on the couch, your hand and whatever had upset you so greatly before completely forgotten.

She’d thought she loved Mapi as much as a person could love another person, before you’d arrived in Spain. And then she’d picked you up from the airport, a shell of yourself, angry and hostile. And she’d watched Mapi chip away at all the anger and all the sadness. She’d watched as you became you again, with Mapi’s help.

Ingrid wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d helped you, too. But you were her sister. Mapi had no obligation to you, yet… here she was.

And Ingrid realized that her love for María Pilar León Cebrián had grown exponentially in the past few months. Because she’d gotten to see Mapi grow to love you. Her favorite person in the world. It was so much love, she thought some days that her heart might burst.

Ingrid hated the process of getting you here, and of everything that had happened for you that had been so incredibly difficult. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t love the family she got as a result.

------

hahahaHAHAHA IM FINE im FINE

i love sol.

ps. please tell me if you see any typos okay goodnight

#ingrid engen & reader #mapi leon & reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon

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crackspinewornpages · 2 months ago

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The Bridge of San Luis Rey 3/5 -Thornton Wilder

PART THREE

ESTEBAN

One morning twin foundlings were found in a basket at the Convent of Santa Maria Rosa de las Rosas and given names that weren't useful since no one could tell them apart. As they aged their parentage was guessed Castilion, the one closet to being a parent was the Abbess Madre Maria del Pilar, who hated all men but was fond of Esteban and Manuel. She’d have tea with them and tell them stories and grew to love them all while waiting to see them grow the ugliness of men. “All the ugliness that made hideous the world she walked in.”p.54 They stayed in the convent until they became a distraction, (like how young girls are to creepy old men) since they dedicated themselves to cleaning other sacristies in town. As they grew older, they had no desire of clerical life, instead becoming scribes and made a living with it. (this was back when literacy and mass printing wasn’t widespread)

Because they were twins with no family brought up by women, they were silent and lived in shame by their appearance. “They had to live in a world where it was the subject of continual comment and joking.”p.55 When they learned to speak, they invented their own language for when they were alone. The Archbishop was interested in languages but trying to get them to write it down was somehow humiliating to them and he eventually let them go. Their language was a symbol of their identity with each other, “so love is inadequate to describe the tacit almost ashamed oneness of those brothers.”p.56 Side by side existed a need of each other and exchanged few words and looks this produced natural miracles. (meaning the ESP twins share)

Growing tired of writing they went down to the sea to work at the docks, pick fruit and ferry and always they were silent. “All the world was remote and strange and hostile except one’s brother.”p.57 Finally a shadow was cast over them by a woman, they returned to the city to copy a play and didn't like it seeing poetry as futile. Perichole was on stage as Esteban returned home to finish copying Manuel stayed, years ago they saw her before, seeing they were twins guessed Esteban was the younger one. Since all of Manuel’s errands ran past the theatre beneath her dressing room the first time his imagination was overwhelmed by a woman. He lost the dissociated of love and pleasure now it was complicated with love and he lost sense of oneself and neglect of everything that wasn't Perichole,

Esteban’s life was enough for him, no room for new loyalty because it was simpler now, he discovered the secret. “There may be two equally good, equally gifted, equally beautiful, but there may never be two that love one another equally well.”p.59 So Esteban stayed up wondering why Manuel was so changed, why meaning went out of their life. One evening Camila called for Manuel to write a letter for her and complains how they both never come see her, is it because she’s an actress. She sees Manuel's face he doesn't like her so wants Esteban instead, he stays saying she can trust him, does he promise to keep what they are secret even from Esteban, he does. She walks around dictating her letter and pays him and will call on him again, her uncle Pio writes her letters but there are things she doesn't want him to know.

Esteban knew Manuel was brooding over Perichole but didn't know he was seeing her and for the next few months a messenger boy would ask which twin is which, Manuel was wanted at the theatre. Esteban assumed it was copy work then was surprised on the visit to their room when Manuel allowed a lady in to quickly write her a letter. (she’s impatient with her matador lover) Watching the two Esteban saw the new congeniality forming he’d never know and he seemed to shrink away unwanted, a shut out from the tableau of love. (it ain’t love it’s a hard crush and a woman either oblivious or stringing him along because she likes the attention) After she left Manuel worshipped her and gradually became aware of Esteban’s mood who told him, “Go and follow her, Manuel. Don’t stay here. You’ll be happy. There’s room for us all in the world.”p.65 And Manuel felt terror as the mental image of Esteban saying goodbye, understanding his misery, demanding he choose him or Perichole. Their loyalty had been diminished, understanding his suffering, Manuel removed Perichole from his heart.

Manuel declared it would be the last letter he writes for her but Esteban still leaves saying he’s going for a walk and Manuel didn't have to say that. “You don't have to change for me.”p.67 Manuel calls him a fool for thinking he said that for him, how could he love her what chance does he even have. (absolutely none) He tells Esteban to go to bed in their secret language but Esteban still goes out knowing he’s in the way. It wasn't until Manuel cried out like Esteban was going away forever that he returned and they didn't speak of it for weeks. The next morning Perichole sent for him and he refused.

One evening Manuel tore open his knee on a piece of metal, fairly healthy Manuel was now bewildered as his leg swelled and racked with pain. (it’s either tetanus gangrene or sepsis) One night Esteban ran to fetch the barber-surgeon (this was back when a barber could perform surgery it’s why they had that red and white pole interesting history look into it) but he wouldn’t be back until morning. In those hours they told each other after the doctor sees it all will be fine and Manuel will be walking in a few days. The doctor came and for hours they treated the wound, but the pain grew worse until nightfall, Manuel grew delirious and at two in the morning he demanded God to damn Esteban. “For coming between me and what was mine by right. She was mine, do you hear, and what right had you...”p.70 (she was never yours and never would be) These outbursts continued hourly and it was some time for Esteban to know his brother wasn't in his right mind and after some horror with being a devout believer, he returned to his brother with a bent head.

By morning Manuel felt serener declaring he feels better and will be up and about tomorrow, (oh no) does he want Perichole, no. Esteban asks if Manuel still feels that he came between them he would have been all right if he’d gone away, no she’s nothing to him he’s glad things are the way they are. He’s not responsible for what he says his leg hurts, so he didn't damn him to hell for coming between him and Perichole, Manuel says he’s going crazy how could he damn him to hell when he’s all he has. The brothers argue whether or not to replace the dressings and this conversation would happen over and over. The noises would be so loud the other guests would complain and the innkeeper said he’d dump the brothers in the street in the morning. Esteban would go out so they’d rage at him, go inside and muffle his brother's screams, making him angrier. The third night Esteban sent for a priest and during the sacrament Manuel died.

After Esteban refused to go near the building his brother’s body was in, drifting in the streets, eventually the innkeeper sent for the Abbess who made arrangements. She asked Esteban to help and remembered at fifteen Manuel had said he’s prevent the crucifixion of Jesus. She asks which one he is, Esteban says he’s Manuel and he won't help her, the Abbess reminds him Manuel would always help her. Does he remember what she did for him, yes, she reminds him she is also suffering loss. Esteban wouldn't respond and when the procession passed in the city he followed on parallel streets. All of Lima was interested in the separation of the brothers, Esteban would find work then disappear and reappear in another province but always return to Lima. After he lingered around the convent Madre Maria del Pilar failed to bring him inside, she’d be angry at God for not giving her the wisdom and grace then she sent for Captain Alvarado, (his reason for wandering is he had a young daughter that died) who went to Esteban who was doing copy work in Cuzco.

The brothers had respect for Alvarado, in the short time they worked together the three made sense in the world. Alvarado found him eating and waited to introduce himself, he’s looking for workmen for a trip far from Peru. After yelling the question again Esteban agreed, he wants his brother too, no, why wouldn't he want to go and eventually Esteban told him he’s dead and Alvarado apologizes he didn't know. (seems like something the Abbess should have told him) Which one is he, Esteban, when did his brother die, a few weeks ago, how old is he, twenty-two, he’s still coming with him, yes. Esteban told him he has to go now to the city to see somebody about something, come back by supper and they’ll talk about the trip. They ate and arranged to go Lima in the morning and Alvarado got him to drink Alvarado talked about ships and Esteban asked to be kept busy and to pretend he doesn't know him, pretend he hates him, he can't write anymore and don't tell the pother men about him. (but why)

Alrado knows he ran into a burning house to save someone, he didnt even get burned. “you’re not allowed to kill yourself; you know you’re not allowed. Everybody knows that. But if you jump into a burning house to save somebody, that wouldn't be killing yourself.”p.82 (oh Esteban) Not even animals kill themselves when they’re about to lose. Esteban wants to give Madre Maria del Pilar a present before he goes, he’ll need his payment now he won’t need the money anywhere. (oh shit bequeathing something important is sometimes a sign that person is going to kill themselves) “she had a serious loss, once. She said so. I don’t know who it was,”p.82 (it was your brother who was like a son to her same as you) He wants to give her a present, women can't bear it like men can (she’s faring better than you) and Alvarado promised they’ll look in the morning.

The next day Esteban changed his mind about going, it’s impossible he can’t leave Peru, Alvarado asks about his present, is he going to take it away, it might mean a lot to the Abbess, Esteban agrees. Alvarado assures him it’s the ocean he wants now, go gather his things and they’ll start. Esteban tried to make a decision, it was always Manuel that decided for them and never one as great as this. Alvarado waited for Esteban to return but after a while goes up for him and hearing and rope on plaster thinks it might be for the best then after the rope snaps he runs into the room. (now you take action) Esteban cried that he’s alone making Alvarado relive his own pain. “We do what we can. We push on, Esteban, as best we can. You’ll be surprised at the way time passes.”p.85 They went for Lima at the bridge, the Captain went to the stream to supervise the passage of some merchandise as Esteban went across.

#the bridge of san luis rey #thornton wilder #books #book summaries #historical fiction

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