#jorge y ya

[jorge20yya]

Bueno, el primer dibujo, experimentando con mujeres-

Perdón @zaikobt , fuiste mi experimento que salió mal. 😂

En fin.

Parece asustada JAJA, pero no importa.

Seguiré dibujando mañana.

[elbiotipo]

que tal señor biotipo!! ojala le este yendo bien! cual es la historia de borges q lo traumatizó para siempe? así como lo dice en el post apostaría q es la casa de asterión pero esa es la q me traumatizó a MI, así que lo mío no es objetivo ("lo creerías ariadna? el minotauro apenas se defendió" me cambió para siempre) saludos!!

Es tan cortita que la puedo copiar y pegar acá, está en el libro El Hacedor si querés leer otras historias y entrar en otras crisis existenciales:

El Testigo

En un establo que está casi a la sombra de la nueva iglesia de piedra, un hombre de ojos grises y barba gris, tendido entre el olor de los animales, humildemente busca la muerte como quien busca el sueño. El día, fiel a vastas leyes secretas, va desplazando y confundiendo las sombras en el pobre recinto; afuera están las tierras aradas y un zanjón cegado por hojas muertas y algún rastro de lobo en el barro negro donde empiezan los bosques. El hombre duerme y sueña, olvidado. El toque de oración lo despierta. En los reinos de Inglaterra el son de campanas ya es uno de los hábitos de la tarde, pero el hombre, de niño, ha visto la cara de Woden, el horror divino y la exultación, el torpe ídolo de madera recargado de monedas romanas y de vestiduras pesadas, el sacrificio de caballos, perros y prisioneros. Antes del alba morirá y con él morirán, y no volverán, las últimas imágenes inmediatas de los ritos paganos; el mundo será un poco más pobre cuando este sajón haya muerto.

Hechos que pueblan el espacio y que tocan a su fin cuando alguien se muere pueden maravillarnos, pero una cosa, o un número infinito de cosas, muere en cada agonía, salvo que exista una memoria del universo, como han conjeturado los teósofos. En el tiempo hubo un día que apagó los últimos ojos que vieron a Cristo; la batalla de Junín y el amor de Helena murieron con la muerte de un hombre. ¿Qué morirá conmigo cuando yo muera, qué forma patética o deleznable perderá el mundo? ¿La voz de Macedonio Fernández, la imagen de un caballo colorado en el baldío de Serrano y de Charcas, una barra de azufre en el cajón de un escritorio de caoba?

-Jorge Luis Borges.

[mj0702]

The other Bronze - Part One

Here we go again 🤣 Thank you (as always) to Crush and Bubs

(the bad Spanish is courtesy of Google and if you find typos or anything please point them out to me 😉)

Y/n POV

You finally walked the last steps towards the door of your Sisters small house at the Outskirts of Barcelona. What you're doing in Barca on a random Friday Night? You wanted to surprise Lucy for her Birthday. It took a lot of begging to Mum and Dad to let you fly all on your own from Manchester to Barcelona and when you turned your phone on after landing, you had 26 missed calls and 15 messages already, the last one from your older Brother Jorge telling you to text him if the Plane crashed and you died – real Clown that one. You phoned Mum, telling her that the Flight was just a little delayed and that your still very much alive and not Shark food in the Ocean. You knew Lucy had training, so you stayed a little longer at the Airport, watching people, drinking Coffee. You found some nice company in a Girl, who waited for her Girlfriend and surprisingly spoke English. So know you're currently walking up the steps towards Lucy's front door, her spare key (which you got from Mum, in case Lucy wasn't home), my Earplugs blasting Music and you opened the door – boy what a mistake.

„Luuuucccyyyy!! Happy Birth... OH MY GOD MY EYES!!! OH EW!!“ you started to yell out in horror before spotting my Sister on her Couch. Naked. With another Girl on her knees in front of her, her head buried between your Sisters legs. You turned around as quick as you could, shutting the Door behind you. A few minutes later, some shuffling and swearing from the inside, said door got ripped open again.

„What are you doing here?“ Lucy asked you and you couldn't tell if she was pissed off or just annoyed.

„Surprise??“ you say, your back still facing her.

„Why do you have a Key to my Apartment? You can turn around by the way“ she sounded annoyed, which was good – annoyed is better than pissed off.

„Mum... I just saw things I never wanted to see ever“ you shrugged like it was self-explanatory. „Dear bloody Jesus“ your Sister huffed out, before grabbing your Arm, starting to pull you inside, as you tried to stop her by holding on to the Door frame

„I'm NOT going back in there again“ you say, gagging for good measure.

„Stop being difficult“ Lucy said, putting her arm around your Shoulders instead, having more leverage. Back inside you were sat down at the Kitchen table, the Girl from earlier just making some Coffee.

„I hope you sanitized that Table“ you mumbled, before looking at your Sister „No way you haven't fu...“

„If you finish that Sentence, I'll call Mum telling her that you broke that ugly Vase at Christmas three years ago“ Lucy narrowed her eyes at you, before turning to the Girl „Ona... this is my overly annoying baby Sister y/n... devils spawn... this is Ona, my Girlfriend“

You just looked at the Girl with a blank face nor knowing how to react to these news.

„Manners“ Lucy growled at you and slapped the back of your Head

„Hola“ you said to Ona, not really knowing what to think of her.

„Hola“ Ona smiled back, putting a cup of Coffee in front of you, which Lucy took away the instant it touched the Table „No hay café para ella“ she said to Ona, while ignoring your frustrated „Oi!!“.

„Por qué?“ the dark haired woman asked.

„Look at her.... she's already a pest, I don't need her caffeinated up“ Lucy answered, finally in English, while pointing at you.

„Aye you Arsepiece“ you huffed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

„You're English, not Scottish, ya wee shite“ your Sister grinned at you, but finally came over, ruffling you Hair, which is Lucy language for „I love you“.

“I was born in Scotland therefore I’m Scottish” you grumble out.

„I don't understand a word you two say“ Ona said confused, her spanish accent thick as she speaks english and Lucy laughed out loud

„All good...“. She then looks at you again „But seriously... what are you doing here?“.

„Wanted to surprise you for your Birthday... haven't seen you since the Euros“ you mumble a little embarrassed

„You... missed me“ Lucy smirked

„No... how could I miss your annoying Ass?“ you answered quickly and she KNEW she hit a nerve

„I missed you too, Devils Spawn“ she said, pulling you into a side hug

„You never told me you had a younger Sister, Lucia“ Ona said, smiling slightly at our interaction

You just raise an eyebrow at Lucy „Lucia? What have you done to fuck up so badly, that she uses your actual name?“

„Lucia is more common here, you daft punk...“ Lucy rolled her eyes at you still holding you to her side before answering her Girlfriend „I try to keep her away from the Spotlight“

„Oh...“ Ona said, like she understands, which you doubted „I'll leave you two to catch up, I'm going to go...“ she smiled

„Weren't you about to come a little while ago?“ you blurted out, which earned you a very hard punch to the shoulder courtesy of your lovely Sister

Ona just look confused, which causes you to laugh „You can explain that one, Kneeless... Bathroom that way?“.

As you renter the Kitchen, you see Lucy and Ona kissing in the Doorway. You comment it with a loud dry heaving sound. Lucy blindly throws a shoe at you, which misses by miles and you snap a photo of her. You can only see Lucys back and Onas Hands around her Neck, so it's obvious that there's someone else, but you can't see who. You sit back down at the Table, your Stomach starting to growl and you realize just how late it is. You shot up and run up to Lucy, grabbing her shirt, pulling hard successfully ending the make out session

„You have to phone Mum that I'm here, otherwise she'll send a search party and I'm already dead, because I didn't text her that I arrived safely“ you stumble over your words, because nothing is more scary than Mum Bronze in Mum Mode. Lucy rolled her eyes, pecking Onas lips again for a final goodbye, before pushing you back into the Apartment again

„You realize what I just gave up for you?“

„Multiple Orgasms, I know... I don't want to know, but I know... can I post a picture, saying I'm with you?“ you murmur the end of your question, knowing Lucy is very picky with private Pictures and even more, when you're involved

„Let me first call Mum, then let me check the Picture, then we decide what we get for dinner, okay?“ she pressed a Kiss to your temple, already her Phone in Hand, dailing Home.

She was on the Phone to Mum forever, apologizing telling her she was so happy to see you that we forgot to call her. Straight A+ lie, but if someone can pull it off, it's Lucy

„You owe me, Smol“ she said after ending the Call „Now show me that picture, so I can say No and we can go finding food, since my fridge is empty and I planned on eating something else tonight“ she grinned, as you start to dry heave again.

„Please... i REALLY don't want to think about it“ you say pained

Lucy laughed out loudly and you smiled. You really missed her.

„Show me the Picture“ she said, encouraging you, a smile playing around her lips, as you show her.

„That's a good one“ Lucy said after a minute of looking at it closely handing you the phone back „You can use that one... Just don't tag Ona please“

„I don't even know who she is“ you said looking apologetic „but I think she's nice“

Your Sister laughed again „She is... haven't felt like this since Keira“

„Why did you and Keira split up? I really liked her“ you said and Lucy looked at you for a second, really looked at YOU before answering

„We just fell out of Love... nobodies fault... it just happened and it wasn't fair to either of us to keep pretending“ Lucy said carefully, yet seriously, knowing that Topic was difficult for you

„As cliche as it sounds, but we're still friends and I know, Keira will be over the Moon seeing you again“. Truth is, when Lucy and Keira split up you refused to talk to your Sister for weeks, not grabbing fully why she would leave Keira. Keira who was a mixture between a big Sister and a Mother to you. Keira, who made you laugh, when you where sad. Keira, who carried you to bed, when you fell asleep during a Movie. Keira, who held you when you came crying into Lucys Bedroom, just woken up from a Nightmare. In the End, you was just too young to grab fully what was happening. Maybe not too young but you couldn’t understand the feelings behind it.

„Was it my fault?“ you whispered, always the nagging feeling at the back of your Head, that it was your fault they split up.

„What?“ Lucy asked confused „No... of course not! Y/n listen to me... it had NOTHING to do with you“

„But if I would have acted more grown up and not come running nearly every night..“ you stared and Lucy immediately knew what it was about

„Y/n... it had nothing to do with that... nothing! You went through something traumatic and we were honestly glad you trusted us enough to come to us or let us calm you down when you had a nightmare“ she said insistently, holding your look „You had nothing to do with what happened between Keira and I, do you understand me?“

„I just... I feel like it's my fault“ you look down, playing with your fingers

„It's not... and if you don't believe me, you can ask Keira...“ Lucy said, grabbing your Hands in hers, holding them tightly „It just happened“

You let her pull you into a hug and for the first time in a long time you felt safe and home.

„Thanks Luce“ you mumbled against her shoulder

„Always ya wee shite“ she said and you felt her smiling into your Hair.

Yes, even at 16 years old, Lucy is a whole Head bigger than you were. Your stomach growled again and Lucy laughed „What do you want to eat, I'll order“

„I'm in Spain... obviously I want Fish and Chips, Idiot... I want authentic spanish food“ you said sarcastically

„Smartass“ she rolled her eyes „We could also go out, whatever you want“

„It's YOUR Birthday... why do I have to choose? “ you said, honestly confused

„I was trying to be nice... I know a small little Restaurant, not too far from here“ she grinned at you

„Do I have to change for it?“ you asked, looking down at your button down shirt, ripped jeans and the baby blue chucks

„Other shoes and you're good to go“ Lucy said as she threw a pair of NIKEs your way „I'll just go change, don't do anything stupid“ she pointed her finger threatenly at you

„Never, my beloved Sister“ you say sarcastically.

While Lucy is changing, you decided against posting the picture of Lucy and Ona kissing online. You know your Sister values her privacy and even she gave you the ok, it didn't feel right – but that doesn't mean you couldn't send it to someone else... Keira.

Y/n: ~ inserts picture ~ It finally happened Kei... I walked in on her... thankfully I haven't eaten today, otherwise Lucy would have to clean that up too

Keira: You're in Barcelona, Bitsy?! Why didn't you tell me?

Y/n: Sure am... wish I wasn't tho... ehm... surprise?

Keira: I hope you didn't plan to fuck off without saying hi... and don't kid yourself, Bitsy... that definitely wasn't the first time you walked in on your Sister ;)

Y/n: of fucking course not... and how would you know that, Ms. Walsh?

Keira: Because I was there :p

After you read Keiras last Text, you threw your Phone to the other End of the Couch with a loud „EW!!“.

Lucy came running from the Bedroom, looking at you shocked „What happened?? Are you okay?“. „I walked in on you and Keira???“ you cried out in agony.

„What?“ Lucy looked at you confused. You showed her your Phone, which caused her to laugh – full on belly laugh „Oh yeah... I forgot about that“ Lucy laughed.

„I WALKED IN ON YOU AND KEIRA???“ you screeched horrified.

„Yep... multiple times actually“ Lucy grinned.

„Oh god... I think I need to throw up? When... wait no... don't answer that“

Your Sister laughed again, throwing a coat towards you, silently telling you that you were leaving. „Is it okay, if I invite some people?“ she asked you, as you leave the Apartment.

„It's your Birthday, Luce – you can invite whoever you want“ you shrugged your Shoulders. „Whomever“ Lucy corrected you automaticly, before she pulled out her phone and send some texts. „Smartass“ you mumble as your Sister put her Arm around your Shoulders, manoeuvring you through the City.

Just as you rounded a corner into a small side road, someone shoulder checked you, turning around, yelling something in spanish at you. You looked at the guy confused, feeling Lucy going into protective Mode, making herself bigger by your Side. Before she could say anything, you looked at the Guy, yelling at him „Cállate la Boca, matildo hijo de puta!“

Your Sister looked shocked at you as does the Guy. You put on your best Bronze-Fightingface, before making a step towards him. Just as the Guy made up his mind and also took a step towards you, a Woman pushed right in between you two oozing confidence and started talking calmly to the Guy. She was pretty but damn – she was intimidating. The Guy talked back twice, before turning around, leaving the little alley

„What the Hell, Y/n??“ Lucy yelled at you „What the hell did you say to that guy? I understood ONE word and know it wasn't a compliment – and since when do you speak spanish?“

She then turned to the Woman „Hola Alexia... Gracias por interferir“

„Ningún problema“ the woman smiled at my Sister

„And you“ she turned to you „Where did you learn that?“

And there was that intimidating look again, which made you gulp. You grew up with Lucy Bronze, but this woman scared you. You pushed yourself behind your Sister, trying to hide

„Answer her“ Lucy pulled you out from behind her.

You just shook your Head and mumbled „She scares me Luce“

„Good“ your Sister mumbled „now answer her“

You shook your Head again. The woman looked at you and smiled slightly

„Excuse me. Hi, my name is Alexia, I'm a teammate and friend of your Sister“

You're still careful, not to stand to close to her „Hi... Y/n... I'm.. the Sister of my Sister“

This actually made her laugh, while Lucy groaned and started to rub her forehead embarrassed

„So... now that we know each other, where did you learn to offend spanish people? As much as I gathered, you don't speak spanish..“ Alexia said and immediately she got all scary again

„I... no... yes?“ You looked at her and tried to hide behind Lucy again, who groaned again. „Cariño.... my patience is wearing quite thin... you better start talking” Alexia said sweetly, but you knew it was a fair warning

“A girl at the Airport taught me... I just tried to order a coffee, which is SO hard in your country and the Barista didn't understand me and she kinda took over and ordered for me... as a thank you, I paid for hers... and we sat together as she waited for her Girlfriend and since we had time, she taught me some spanish” you stutter out

“Do you even know what you just said?” Alexia looked at you shocked

“ehrm... no... but the girl said I have to put on a Bitchface after saying it... she was cool...”

“Y/n... you just can't throw around spanish phrases, because SOMEONE told you” Lucy pressed.

“She look trustworthy” you defended yourself

“Cariño...” Alexia said softly “... don't EVER say that again, because you will get hurt in the process”

“Is it bad?” you ask unsure

“It is...” the Spanish woman said “... and if I ever find that Girl, that taught you, I will have a VERY serious talk with her... in spanish” she winked at you

“What are the Odds” you mumbled and Lucy looked at you

“What odds?” she asked you confused

“That girl just turned around the Corner” you said, pointing at a Girl, laughing loudly with some other girls

“I should have known” Alexia groaned out “María Pilar León Cebrián!!! Nosotras necesitamos hablar!!!” she yelled out

The Girl in questions Head snapped towards Alexias angry Voice, her laughter dying in her throat. She made eye contact with you, her eyes went comically wide and you could swear, you saw her mouthing the word “Fuck”, before slowly starting to walk backwards

“Oh please do” Alexia sneered, while walking towards Maria “Please start running, so I can chase after you because after I caught you, I'm gonna drag your sorry Ass up to Nuo and let you run Laps until Training is over and then some more...”

You turned towards your Sister “Isn't Nuo Egg?” you ask confused

“Huevo is Egg.. Nuo is the Stadium where we train and play” Lucy explained

“Ah... and why is Alexia calling me Cariño ... is that some weird spanish name?” you said, still confused

This Time Lucy laughed out loud, while Alexia is “actively” having a word with Maria – she was outright yelling at the poor Girl. You actually did feel sorry for her. Maria looked very guilty, trying to explain, but not getting a word in.

“Cariño is a form of endearment... something like Honey”

“Excuse me?? She could have at least taken me out on a Date first” you huffed, but smiled.

“Are you causing trouble already?” a voice behind you said amused. You turned around and sprinted off, throwing yourself in the Womans arms.

“I missed you, Keira” you mumbled into her neck, while she's hugging you tightly

“I missed you too, Bitsy” she kissed your Hair, not breaking the contact

You felt safe in her arms. Lucy came over after getting over her initial shock of you just sprinting off

“For once, it wasn't her causing the Trouble... it was Mapí” Lucy said, nodding towards a still yelling Alexia with her head

“What a surprise – Mapí causing trouble... these two would absolutely cause havoc” Keira laughed, not letting go of you

“Take a guess, why Mapí is getting yelled at... they have met already” your Sister grinned

“Oh god” Keira groaned laughing “What has Mapí done?”

“She taught me spanish” you said proudly

“What did she teach...” the other english woman started before getting interrupted by Lucy “Don't!!!! Don't ask!”

Keira was a little taken aback, but didn't ask any further

“She taught me a phrase... apparently it's a bad one and I'm not allowed to say it again, otherwise the scary Woman will have my Ass” you said, still pressed into Keiras side

“Scary Woman?” Keira raised an eyebrow at Lucy

“Alexia” your Sister answered shrugging her shoulders

“Mapí would like to say something” said Woman stood behind you three, her hand grabbing the back of Marias neck, who looked like a kicked puppy

“Lamento mucho haberte enseñado algo malo” the smaller Woman mumbled, clearly not happy or comfortable with the situation

“En Inglés” Alexia rolled her eyes “As you maybe remember, little Bronze doesn't speak spanish”. “Su hermana lo hace - ella puede traducir” Maria said

“Maria” Alexia warned “Deja de ser difícil y discúlpate correctamente”

“I'm sorry for teaching you bad spanish” the younger woman huffed out annoyed

“It's...” you started, before Alexia interrupted you “And now we try to say that, like we really mean it” she said to Mapí, grabbing her neck a little tighter

“I'm sorry” the younger girl winced

“Very good” Alexia smiled, but everyone saw it was fake, before getting a stern face again “You still will run laps tomorrow”

“What??? I apologized” Mapí said shocked

“Still doesn't change the fact, that you nearly caused a fight – if I hadn't stepped in, she most like would have end up in the Hospital with a broken nose... or worse” Alexia said

“Oi!” you yelled out “I may be small, but I can hold myself, thank you very much”

“We” Alexia looked at you sternly “Will talk tomorrow”

You gulped again, making yourself smaller at Keiras side, who had watched the whole interaction with an amused grin on her face.

“Can we get food now?” you whispered into Keiras side

The Midfielder laughed loudly “Let's go” she said as she pulled you into the small Restaurant, everyone following you. You sat between Lucy and Alexia, Mapí to Alexias right, next to her her Girlfriend Ingrid, Keira was to Lucys left with one seat free in between them for when Ona would join.

“What's edible here?” you ask to no one particular, studying your menu.

“Should I order for you, Cariño?” Alexia ask, wanting to make you feel welcome and comfortable “If this is you aassuming that this is a date, then no...” you say distracted, still try to figure out the menu.

Alexia was taken aback, while your Sister laughed.

“But what is... potatoes braves?” you asked, looking up confused.

Mapí clutched her heart dramatically “My heart... my Heart burns... I think I have a heart attack.. is this what a heart attack feels? My poor Heart”

“What is her deal?” you asked your Sister, who already had tears in her eyes from laughing

“You just absolutely BUTCHERED her language and food” Keira said, her tone dry as usual still looking over the menu.

“But it says there...” you climbed on top of Lucy, your Knee pressing into her thigh, causing her to groan out in pain, to show Keira on the Menu “Potatoes braves... or something like that”

“Patatas Bravas” Keira corrected you “It is potatoes, but it's not called Potatoes and definitely not Braves..”

“Look at you, all fancy spanishing” you rolled your eyes at her, but she knew you didn't mean it.

“Could you please finally get off me?” Lucy groaned out, pushing you back on your chair “When did you get so heavy?”

“Are you calling me fat, Arse biscuits??” you challenged her by raising an eyebrow

“What if I do, Twat McFuckknuckle?” Lucy taking your bait, raising her eyebrow as well

“Stop it! Both of you, we have company AND in public” Keira said sharply, successfully interrupting your interaction “God the two of you – always trouble”

You kicked Lucys ankle lightly under the Table, she shoving you, pushing you successfully into Alexia.

“Sorry... she pushed me” you mumbled out, while shoving Lucy back.

Alexia looked at Keira “Are they always this violent towards each other?”

“Oh this isn't violent – this is actually them behaving” Keira smiled fake, watching you two shoving each other “Just wait till there's food on the Table – THEN it gets violent”.

Just as they were about to order, Ona joined the small Group, pressing a small Kiss to Lucys lips. You watched that interaction with a frown on your face. You cared deeply for Keira and assumed it wasn't easy on her watching her Ex and her new Girlfriend kissing right in front of her. You carefully looked at Keira, but saw her laughing with Ingrid, who changed seats for conversation purposes.

“What's this dark look on your face, Cariño?” Alexia whispered in your ear, unknowing to you, she always had an eye on you.

“Nothing” you said flatly, not wanting to start a scene “I'm just hungry”

It was your Sisters Birthday after all and she looked very happy with Ona.

“Dinner will be served soon, don't worry” the Barca captain said lightly, putting a hand on your bouncing knee.

“Ale?” Mapí asked from Alexias other side.

“Si?” the woman in question looked at her younger Teammate

“Can we swipe seats?” Mapí asked hopefully.

You look at her confused “You want to what?”

“Swipe seats... I take Alexias, she sits in my seat” the young spanish said

“Oh... OH... you mean swap...” you say as you realize what she wants “and they say I butcher a language”

“No” Alexia said sternly “before you ask, you two won't be anywhere unsupervised”

“Oi” you exclaim “I'm very capable of looking after myself”, while Mapí exclaimed something in spanish.

“No idea what she said, but she's right” you say, pointing at Mapí

“Enough” Alexia said sternly, both of you stop complaining immediately.

Keira looked impressed at Alexia, trying to hide her smirk. Lucy was in her own world with Ona, ignoring everything around her. Finally there was Food on the Table and before the Plagrabfor everyone even were placed on the Table, you and Mapí already starting to grab whatever you could reach. Alexia watched in horror, as you two just loading food on your own plates without waiting for the rest “Excuse me? María León... I know for a fact that you have manners and won't just load your plate with food without WAITING for everyone else – especially for the Woman who celebrates her birthday today... isn't that right, María?”

Mapí looked down on her plate guilty, before starting to put the food back.

“I thought so” Alexia said, still a mad undertone in her voice

You on the other Hand didn't care one bit. You grew up in the Bronze household. You snooze, you loose. You threw a little fried something into your mouth, chewing happily. That was until the spiciness kicked in. Your eyes went wide, tears starting to form in your eyes and you started to have problems to breath. As always, you turned to Keira for help, throwing food at her to get her attention.

“Y/n please... I didn't raise you for years so you start throwing food in public” the Woman said, turning to you before realizing what was happening. Once she saw you in your distressed state, she immediately came over, pulling you out of your chair and out of the restaurant. Lucy finally noticed her surroundings, as Keira pulled you outside. She jumped up, following the two of you outside

“What happened?” Lucy asked worried, seeing you having difficulties to breath and tears streaming down your face.

“I don't know. She suddenly started to throw food at me, I actually was about to tell her off, but saw her having problems to breath and got her out” Keira gave Lucy a rundown, while keeping you upright

“It's okay, Bitsy... calm down” Keira started to talk to you in a low, soothing voice “Take a deep breath for me”

You tried to follow her instructions, but with no luck. Lucy finally sprung into action grabbing you by your shoulders, making you look at her

“Did you eat something?”

You nod, still trying your hardest to breath.

“Spicy?”

You nod again, thankful that your Sister keeps a cool head.

“You're doing good, Bubs... Do you know what you've eaten?”

You shake your head.

“Okay... we can work with that” Lucy said, a small reassuring smile on her lips, turning to Keira “Could you get something dairy.. milk... yoghurt... whatever”

“Sure” Keira smiled before disparaging inside the Restaurant.

“It's okay, Bubs... it's going to get better soon, I promise – just... don't shovel everything into your gob without asking next time.. these guys here are absolutely unholy when it comes to spicy food”. Just as your Sisters calm voice started to work on your nerves, Keira appeared with a glass of milk AND yoghurt

“Drink Bitsy” she smiled assuringly at you, pushing the glass of milk into your hands.

You took a sip and immediately felt your tight chest loosen up. Greedily you drowned the whole glass, feeling better with every gulp.

“Fuck” was the first word, that left your mouth after you regain your breathing again.

“You okay now, Bubs?” Lucy asked concerned.

“Getting there” you said, leaning forward, your hands on your knees “But I think I need to throw up”

Lucy pulled you upright quickly “Are you serious?”

“Yep” you breathed deeply, your stomach on a wrath for torturing it

“I'm getting you home right now” your Sister said seriously “Spicy is one thing, but your stomach is normally made of steel, that's not normal”

You just groaned

“Stay” Keira said to your Sister “It's your Birthday – I'll take her to my Place and have an eye on her... you stay and enjoy your evening, okay?”

“I can't ask that of you, Kei” Lucy said softly

“You're not asking... I'm offering” Keira smiled softly “If she feels up for it, we can meet for brunch or lately at training”

“Thank you” Lucy whispered, hugging her Ex-Girlfriend before turning to you “You behave... be good for Keira”

You nod before Keira wraps you into a hug, leading you away.

As soon as you're out of earshot and view, Keira let go of you and grinned knowingly “You can stop pretending now...”

You looked at her shocked “How did you know?”

“I was always able to tell... your sister is right, you have a stomach made of steel... your whole face changed after you drank the milk and I knew you're alright again... what I don't know is why you put on a show” the english Woman smirked at you, as she called you out

“Didn't want you to put up with Lucy and her new One being all lovey-dovey all evening... and I didn't want to put up with it either” you mumble caught.

Keira started to laugh loudly “Oh Bitsy... I see that lovey-dovey every day... it's okay for me... Lucy deserves to be happy...”

You looked at Keira and she knew there was more to it.

“What's wrong, Bitsy?” she ask lovingly

“I feel like it's my fault you broke up...” you mumble, having a hard deja-vu

“Oh sweetheart... no it's not... Lucy and I just grew apart. It happens and it's nobodies fault, especially not yours... but there's more, isn't it?” Keira said softly

“I don't like the new one” you mumble out, looking down embarrassed

“Why? Ona is a good person, she's good to and for your Sister”

“She looks like she doesn't even need to shave” you exclaimed.

Keira bursted out laughing “You're one of a kind, Bitsy... trust me... Ona is a good Person and she's good for Lucy... I know you're always struggling with change, but please.. give Ona a chance, she'll surprise you”

“M'kay” you mumble.

You arrived at Keiras Apartment, she let you both in before setting up her guest room for you. You went on exploring Keiras home. You were about to open a cabinet as she called from the guest room “Don't you dare open my Cabinets... I love you but you're a clutz”.

You quickly let go of the handle, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall instead. You spotted one of yourself and Lucy, sound asleep on your Couch in Manchester. You laid on top of Lucy, while she was sprawled out under you, her right arm over your back, holding you safely, her knee carefully placed on some pillows, her glasses askew on her face, your hand fisted in her shirt.

“I love that picture” Keiras voice soft behind you “I came back from training, wondering why she hadn't answered my texts about dinner... I walked in and both of you were softly snoring on the Couch. Your leg was so close to her freshly operated knee, that I was afraid you'd hurt it, if you move and I tried to lift you off her, but both of you started to stir as soon as I moved you. So I just let you sleep – after I took a picture. I think Lucy slept for another hour and you slept for nearly three more hours”

Keiras voice was soft and full of love, that you started crying silently. Another picture showed Lucy and Keira in a park, you asleep in between them. You pointed at the picture, your back still facing her.

“London” Keira said understanding you even without words “Our first anniversary.. She planned this whole Weekend to the brim, with fancy Restaurant, Musical Show, Sightseeing... everything... then your parents got so sick with the flu, that we took you with us... her plans went so fast out the window” Keira laughed quietly “but we improvised and instead of fancy restaurant we did pick-nick in Hyde Park – and I wouldn't change it for the world. You were so done after a day of exploring the city and all of the sights, that you were out like light as soon as you sat down”

You pointed at the next picture, again the three of you.

“You can't remember this one?” she asks you surprised.

“I do” you whisper “but... please”

“Paris” Keira said softly “Third anniversary.. Lucy just joined Lyon and invited me over to France for our anniversary She told me, she has the weekend off and wanted to take me to Paris – I honestly thought she would propose... Somehow you heard Lucy talking to your mum and begged her to let you come as well. It was the first time you two were separated and everyone could see that it was so hard on you. Lucy said as long as I'm okay with it, you could come. I remember you being so over the top with your nerves, that you ran around the Airport like a maniac... I lost you twice” Keira chuckled “and as soon as we started, you were out like a light again. In Paris, I had do carry you off the Plane, because you wouldn't wake up – and I still had to get our luggage AND carry you. It took me forever and Lucy was starting to panic that I bailed until she saw me, packed like a Donkey holding onto your sleeping form, dragging our bags behind me. And what did she do? She first smiled and then laughed – but it was the most beautiful sound in the world to me”

“Do you miss her?” you asked quietly.

“Of course I do” Keira answered honestly.

“Do you still love her?”

“I love her, yes... but I'm not IN love with her” she said.

You finally turned around, hugging her tightly.

“I miss you at home... so much” you mumble into her shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks. Keira held you tightly “Oh sweet girl.. I miss you too – I really do”

You stayed like this for a moment, before your eyes grew heavy and Keira carefully walked the two of you towards the Guest bedroom, not letting go of you. You held onto her for dear life, letting her guide you.

As Keira kicked the door of the Guest room open, you mumble into her shoulder “Don't wanna sleep alone”

The english Woman chuckled lightly “I thought so... I just thought I'd offer, just in case... being a good host and everything”

She guided you towards her own Bedroom and sat you down on the Bed. You already were half asleep and whined tiredly as Keira let go of you. She smiled at your hunched over form

“Hush you... I need to change and get ready for bed – you too by the way”

You whined again “too much effort”

“Come on” Keira pulled at your Shirt “Teeth, Face, Change”

You felt like being Seven all over again.

“Nooooo” you whined out.

“Don't start... I'm not Lucy, I'm not a push-over... seven years of me in your life should have taught you that” Keira said severe.

You huffed heavy-hearted, before pushing off the Bed, shuffling towards the bathroom.

Keira smiled to herself “Still a big baby”.

After both of you went through your nightly Routine, with Keira basically brushing your teeth for you and changed your button down shirt with a normal shirt to sleep in, you made it into bed, where you immediately cuddled into Keiras arms and closed your Eyes. The older Woman kissed the Crown of your Head as she mumbled sweet nothings into the dark room, knowing you'd fall asleep in an instant.

Part 2 follows... at some point 😅

[libros-argentinos]

¿Cómo están?

Les dejamos saber que de los libros que estaban solicitados, logramos incorporar trece de quince:

[Vínculo enlazado](Búsqueda manual en el Drive)

El Aleph de Jorge Luis Borges (#8 > LITERATURA > #1)

Ficciones de Jorge Luis Borges ( " )

Pájaros en la boca de Samanta Schweblin ( " )

Fortuna de Hernán Díaz (#8 > LITERATURA > #5)

Plata quemada de Ricardo Piglia ( " )

Operación Masacre de Rodolfo Walsh ( " )

El juguete rabioso de Roberto Arlt (#8 > LITERATURA > #7)

Rayuela de Julio Cortázar ( " )

Cometierra de Dolores Reyes (#8 > LITERATURA > #9)

Gris de ausencia de Roberto Tito Cossa (#8 > LITERATURA > #12)

Historias para ser contadas de Osvaldo Dragún ( " )

Los peligros de fumar en la cama de Mariana Enríquez (#8 > LITERATURA > #13)

La involución Hispanoamericana. De Provincias de las Españas a Territorios Tributarios: El caso argentino, 1711-2010 de Julio C. González (#9 > HISTORIA > HISTORIA ARGENTINA)

Los libros Qué temprano anochece de Silvia Arazi y Lejos de dónde de Edgardo Cozarinsky aún no los encontramos digitalizados. Sin embargo, seguimos tomando solicitudes (por aquí) y/o recibiendo material (por acá: porloslibrosargentinos@gmail.com). Si nos comparten algo desde sus Drives y no por correo, avísennos por acá porque por ahí no nos damos cuenta (acabo de descubrir que tenemos un montón de archivos compartidos sin clasificar -Keo.)

Si encuentran algún error en algún enlace, algún archivo, alguna clasificación, también cuéntennos por medio del inbox.

Hasta ahora, ¡contamos con ya casi cien libros, más o menos, en el Drive! Así que anímense a chusmear las carpetas. Para ser claros: todo lo que sea ficción, poesía y noficción novelada lo van a encontrar en la carpeta número ocho, de literatura.

(Hay cosas sobre la clasificación que todavía no están al cien por ciento sentadas, y hay libros que son bastante difíciles de decidir dónde meter, pero creemos que por ahora las cosas son relativamente fáciles de encontrar; igualmente siempre estamos para escuchar sus sugerencias y/o someter a plebiscito –ja– algunos cambios o decisiones.)

Buenas tardes-noches, gente. Estamos a disposición.

[diana-andraste]

Cover art for Ficciones (Fictions), Jorge Luis Borges, c. 1940s-50s

To a cat

Mirrors are not more wrapt in silences nor the arriving dawn more secretive; you, in the moonlight, are that panther figure which we can only spy at from a distance. By the mysterious functioning of some divine decree, we seek you out in vain; remoter than the Ganges or the sunset, yours is the solitude, yours is the secret. Your back allows the tentative caress my hand extends. And you have condescended since that forever, now oblivion, to take love from a flattering human hand. You live in other time, lord of your realm — a world as closed and separate as dream.

Jorge Luis Borges, trans Alastair Reid, 1977

A Un Gato

No son más silenciosos los espejos ni más furtiva el alba aventurera; eres, bajo la luna, esa pantera que nos es dado divisar de lejos. Por obra indescifrable de un decreto divino, te buscamos vanamente; más remoto que el Ganges y el poniente, tuya es la soledad, tuyo el secreto. Tu lomo condesciende a la morosa caricia de mi mano. Has admitido, desde esa eternidad que ya es olvido, el amor de la mano recelosa. En otro tiempo estás. Eres el dueño de un ámbito cerrado como un sueño.

Jorge Luis Borges

[imoonblaze]

[CROSSOVER] Happy New Year 2024

🍷Diana Anderson, Maimara, Nama Nama, Ambys (OCs) and art belong to @imoonblaze (KlfunsskXD)

🍷Pitaya Dragon Cookie and Milky Way Coookie from Cookie Run, Devsisters

🍷Zatz from Maya and the three, Jorge R. Gutierrez

🍷Dodi and Azalea from Olocoons, Bimbo

🍷Haida and Retsuko from Aggretsuko, Sanrio

🍷Bullfrog from Captain Laserhawk

🍷King Trollex, Queen Barb and Veener from Trolls, DreamWorks

🎉🎆FELIZ AÑO NUEVO 2024!!! (tardio 😅)🎆🎉

🌟Tecnica🌟

tradicional (lineart) y digital (coloreado, luces y sombras)

Vuelvo aqui con un nuevo dibujo para el comienzo de este nuevo año! 🥳🎉 lastimosamente no pude postear esto el 31 del mes pasado o el dia 1 de este mes debido a que tomo mas tiempo de lo esperado 😥 aun asi, disfrute mucho el hacer este dibujo a pesar del cansancio que me llevaba el estarlo elaborando ✨ sin embargo, el esperar un resultado era lo que mas me motivo a darle mas esfuerzo y finalmente esta terminado! 🤩

uff...jamas en mi vida habia hecho una cantidad algo grande de personajes en un solo dibujo 😨 no recuerdo alguna vez haber hecho algo asi anteriormente (posiblemente solo en tradicional), pero hacerlo a digital es agotador! posiblemente no vuelva a hacer algo asi seguidamente, ya que me conformo mas con solo hacer de 2 a 4 personajes 😅 (es mas cansado colorearlos que dibujarlos ; u ; ).

🌟DATO EXTRA🌟 En mi universo, Haida y Retsuko son mas mayores que en el canon de la serie, mientras que los demas estan entre sus 18 a 25 años (excepto los hermanos adoptivos Maimara y Zatz los cuales son dioses de las estrellas y la luna, por lo que siguen viendose como adolescentes... mientras que Pitaya Dragon Cookie al ser un dragon puede vivir milenios).

[aschenblumen]

Está claro que en mí el poder hablar está vinculado también a mi falta de ser. Me nombro, es como si entonara mi canto fúnebre; me separo de mí mismo. Ya no soy mi presencia ni mi realidad, sino una presencia objetiva, impersonal, la de mi nombre, que me rebasa y cuya inmovilidad petrificada hace para mí exactamente las veces de una lápida sepulcral que pesa sobre el vacío. Cuando hablo, niego la existencia de lo que digo, pero niego también la existencia de quien lo dice: si bien revela al ser en su existencia, mi palabra afirma, de esa revelación, que se hace a partir de la inexistencia de quien la hace, de su facultad de alejarse de sí mismo, de ser distinto de su ser.

—Maurice Blanchot, «La literatura y el derecho a la muerte» en De Kafka a Kafka. Traducción de Jorge Ferreiro.

[atticssmellgood]

Hi, i'm from brazil and i often find it difficult to identify with the fic reader because they are usually american, could you make a spencer reid x foreign reader? it doesn't necessarily have to be Brazilian, any country is fine. Maybe he meets her at a bookstore in the foreign literature section and they start dating. kisses from brazil.

Call me?

Spencer Reid x Foreign!GN!reader(no specific pronouns)

Summary: Reader bumps into Spencer while looking for a book in the foreign language section.

Warnings: none!

A/N: Thanks so much for your request! I really hope you enjoy this, I tried my best. Let me know what you think! x

You push the glass door open, a bell acknowledging your presence as you step into the small book shop.

The silence enveloped you in an instant, drowning out the hustle and bustle of city life outside. You stand there for a second, reveling in the earthy scent of the old store. Books were laying in stacks that were scattered around the small area, giving the place a disorganized but oddly comforting appearance. Plants and a thin film of dust decorated the various windowsills, further assisting the creation of a homey atmosphere. A tired looking high schooler sat behind the cash register, reading what looked to be a popular YA novel and sipping from a Starbucks cup. She glanced up at you and gave a soft smile before diving back into her reading.

With that, you quietly make your way to the back of the shop, breezing through the aisles with light feet and only stopping when you reach the foreign literature section. You ghosted over some French novels, beginning to get lost in thought as you looked for books printed in Portuguese.

Moving to America had been a bit of a challenge at first, but after spending a couple of years in the country, you found yourself adapting to the culture and language differences with ease.

However, that didn’t stop you from getting homesick every once in a while.

The feeling had become less frequent as time passed but it never went away completely. Sometimes, when you got that sick feeling in your stomach, you would come back to this little shop and buy a book in your own language. You found comfort in seeing the familiar letters printed out on the delicate pages of books. You even read out loud from time to time, if only to hear the words spoken out loud. That’s precisely why you were here today.

Your fingers traced the various spines lining the shelves, your eyes reading the different titles. Russian, German, Spanish. You recognized the words even if you didn’t know what some of them meant. You continue to search, confident you would find something even more interesting than the last one you read. You were too focused on finding the right book to hear the bell on the front door ring, or notice the lanky man making his way towards the same section you were in.

You come across a small book, the title printed in Portuguese. It read; Capitães da Areia

“Captains of the sand, written by Brazilian author Jorge Amado in 1937. Tells the tale of a gang of orphans living on the streets of Bahia with nothing but their wits.”

You jump back at the sudden voice, snapping your head towards the source with wide eyes and clutching the book close to your chest.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!” The man held his hands up as if he was trying to calm a wild animal.

“It was one of my favorite books when I was younger…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly at you.

You laugh a bit. “No, no it’s fine, I can be pretty oblivious sometimes.” You grin back at him, watching as he brushes a lock of messy brown hair out of his eyes. “Thanks for the synopsis though, I don’t think this has a summary on it.” You flip the book over to the back only to find that you were indeed right, it was completely blank.

He laughed at the little frown you gave. “I’m Spencer, by the way.”

“Y/N”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute and you take the silence as an opportunity to survey his appearance.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this man was pretty damn gorgeous.

He was wearing a white dress shirt with a black button-up cardigan and dark slacks, the outfit being pulled together by a deep purple tie. His complexion was sharp, prominent cheekbones and a jawline that could cut diamonds, a stark contrast to his soft brown eyes. His hair was unruly, but it was strangely fitting. A messenger bag was slung across his torso, his hand gripping the strap.

Spencer cleared his throat in an awkward attempt to break the silence, effectively snapping you out of your thoughts.

“So, um, what exactly are you looking for?” You ask, hoping to ease the tension with casual conversation.

He seems to perk up at this “Oh, I was just seeing if they had anything new back here.” He glanced at the shelves and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Last time I was here, I only saw books that I had already read front to back.”

You think for a second before pulling a book from the top shelf and holding it out to him.

“Here, since I’m reading your favorite childhood book, you should read mine. Assuming you know Portuguese, of course.” He takes the book before looking back at you, confused.

“It’s only fair.” You say with a shrug.

Turning back to the shelves, you can’t help but notice the change in atmosphere. The quiet between the two of you is comfortable now. You watch from the corner of your eye as he skims over the different titles, pulling out a new book every few minutes. Every now and then you would catch him looking at you before he quickly turned his gaze back to the shelves.

“So….do you have a last name?” You ask.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you had a last name.”

“Oh, Yeah, It’s Reid.”

“L/N”

Spencer hums and goes back to his searching as you mule over his name in your mind, your lips moving as you silently formed the words.

Once you were satisfied with your book selection, you turn to leave, not wanting to disturb Spencer’s book-hunting. But just as you walk past him, he stops you with a light hand on your arm.

You look back at him.

His face is red, his lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something. You stare into his soft eyes, waiting for him to speak.

The eye contact seems to make him even more flustered, his gaze landing on the hand still on your arm.

“Um- I know we literally just met and we barely even talked and you have no reason to trust me at all and you probably already have a significant other or something-“

“Spencer, slow down, you’re talking way too fast.” You laugh, placing a hand on his.

“right, sorry.” He takes a deep breathe before speaking again.

“What I’m trying to say is- you’re really attractive, and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go for coffee sometime…?” He asked hesitantly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You smile and pull out a piece of paper.

“Do you have a pen?” You ask. Spencer digs in his pockets for a writing utensil and hands it to you, his expression puzzled.

You quickly scribble something down before handing the paper to him and promptly leaving to go pay for your books.

Spencer looked down at the slip of paper to find your phone number with a little heart drawn next to it and the message;

Call me?

_________

“You know, the reason coffee wakes people up is due to the fact that caffeine increases adrenaline production.” You and Spencer were sitting across from each other in a small cafe, you listening to him list off the health benefits of coffee.

“Consuming around 2 to 5 cups a day is actually linked to a lower risk of developing type 2 diabetes, heart disease, liver and endometrial cancers, Parkinson’s disease, even depression.” He finishes with a smile and a sip of his black coffee. “I’ll have to keep that in mind then.” You grin in response.

You could honestly listen to his rambling all day. The way his eyes glinted with excitement when he talked about something he finds interesting, it’s one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen.

The date continued like that for a while. He told you he worked for the FBI in the behavioral analysis unit—turns out he’s actually the resident genius there—and you told him about your own job. He listened intently when you told him some of the stories from your childhood, laughing along with you when you told jokes. He insisted you told him more about Brazilian culture and your family back home, asking questions and seeming genuinely intrigued by everything you said.

“I think your accent is really soothing.” Spencer says suddenly. You immediately stopped talking, your face growing hot as you watched his eyes grow wide.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just really like the way your voice sounds.” You could see his face getting red, clearly embarrassed by what he had said.

“Thanks, though I have to admit that’s quite an unusual compliment.” You chuckle, suddenly hyper-aware of your accent. He laughs with you, and you soon get back to the conversation you were having.

You were currently on the topic of his team back at Quantico when his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket, frowning when he realized what it was.

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I’ve gotta go. We have a new case.” He sighed, grabbing his messenger bag and standing up.

“Don’t worry about it.” You tell him, finishing off the last drop of your coffee that had been cold for a while now. “I should probably get going anyways.”

He smiles and gives you a wave before heading out the door.

You left the cafe feeling lighter than you have in a while, grinning to yourself all the way home.

_____________

Sorry this isn’t really them dating, I can totally make a part 2 if you want! Please let me know🥰

[sashayed]

A Quien Está Leyéndome/To the One Who Is Reading Me

Eres invulnerable. ¿No te han dado los números que rigen tu destino certidumbre de polvo? ¿No es acaso tu irreversible tiempo el de aquel río

en cuyo espejo Heráclito vio el símbolo de su fugacidad? Te espera el mármol que no leerás. En él ya están escritos la fecha, la ciudad y el epitafio.

Sueños del tiempo son también los otros, no firme bronce ni acendrado oro; el universo es, como tú, Proteo.

Sombra, irás a la sombra que te aguarda fatal en el confín de tu jornada; piensa que de algún modo ya estás muerto.

You are invulnerable. Didn’t they deliver (those forces that control your destiny) the certainty of dust? Couldn’t it be your irreversible time is that river in whose bright mirror Heraclitus read his brevity? A marble slab is saved for you, one you won’t read, already graved with city, epitaph, dates of the dead. And other men are also dreams of time, not hardened bronze, purified gold. They’re dust like you; the universe is Proteus. Shadow, you’ll travel to what waits ahead, the fatal shadow waiting at the rim. Know this: in some way you’re already dead.

Jorge Luis Borges In El Otro, El Mismo, 1964 trans. Tony Barnstone

[42bakery]

hola! he visto todo el debate sobre la bandera de jorge y queria aportar un poco. por lo que se, jorge usa esa bandera en concreto (siempre es la misma en todas las carreras) porque es la que sus padres usaban para ir a animar a alex criville a jerez y su padre pues se la dio el día que gano por primera vez a modo de recuerdo. yo creo que la bandera no tiene más misterio, es casposa como ella sola pero entendiendo que la comprarían sus padres hace más de 20 años cuando era otro momento histórico y que la tienen de recuerdo, tampoco creo que tenga mucho más ese tema. ahora sobre lo de vox, llevo siendo fan de jorge muchos años y (esto es solo mi teoría) creo que esa deriva se debe en parte al entorno de su actual pareja (lo digo por quien es su familia y los círculos en los que se juntan al estar con ella). esto lo digo porque tiempo antes de estar con ella, recuerdo que fue el ÚNICO piloto que uso sus redes sociales para defender una agresión transfoba a una influencer española y para mi significó muchísimo aquel gesto, pero si es verdad que recientemente ha ido torciéndose un poco el tema (mirad sus ultimos likes de twitter, dandole like a una manifestación de vox...). y lo de que pienso que es por los nuevos círculos a los que se ha juntado es también porque como otros habéis dicho es mejor amigo de aleix y aleix es MUY contrario a la ideología nacionalista de vox (y lo dice abiertamente). no pretendo defender ninguna actitud de extrema derecha ni de coña, pero creo que el tema de la bandera no es algo a destacar habiendo otras cosas mucho más criticables (lo de los likes por ejemplo). pero también os digo, si nos vamos a quejar de jorge también deberíamos hablar de marc y de su actual círculo social que es muuuuucho peor....

Hola 👋👋

A ver, si que es cierto que DAZN comentó que es la misma bandera que sus padres llevaban a Jerez cuando ellos iban a ver las carreras, pero de la manera en que lo dijeron es como si tuvieran que justificar la eleccion. Como @babynflames ha explicado en este post ( https://www.tumblr.com/babynflames/750298627086417920/the-osborne-bull-first-appeared-next-to-spanish ) ya hace muchos años, incluso antes que Jorge naciera. Que si que es cierto que hace 20 años no estaba tan ligada a la ultraderecha, pero yo recuerdo haber visot las pegatinas en los años 2000 y pensar yuks.

Que igualmente que sus padres le dieran el recuerdo esta muy bien, pero es un recuerdo, no tienes que ir paseandolo por todo el mundo cuando esta tan asociado a lo que esta y tienes tantos compañeros Catalanes y Aleix tan vocal como es con el tema de la independencia. Igualmente, si tubiera sentido común no la sacaría, o al menos no en Barcelona. También tengo que cedir que yo soy Catalana y los elementos de ultraderecha y elementos super españoles como la figurita de flamenca o de el toro no se venden bien o no son bien considerados, y que Jorge ha sido criado en Madrid, donde que todas estas cosas se expongan son más comunes.

Sinceramente en el año en el que estamos, que use un elemento tan asociado con la extrema derecha además de los comentarios y con las personas que se ha estado asociando, no se pueden pasar por alto. No puedes no ver el conjunto porque sino le perdonas la bandera, le perdonas el 'marica el último' y lo de 'no se puede ganar con una mujer' y acabas excusandolo todo. Además son pequeños gestos los que acaban siendo peores.

Ya habían escuchado antes lo de la agresión transfoba, pero también hay que tener el cuenta el contexto. Cómo has dicho es antes de tener su actual pareja, pero también estaba en Moto2 o Moto3 y ha habido casos de famosos (que no digo que sea el caso, pero no que no lo sea) que en sus inicios son de una manera pero después se quitan la careta. Puede ser que cómo tu dices todo esto sea influencia de las personas con las que se junta, pero si han conseguido que cambié de opinión Jorge solo ha demostrado una falta de carácter y que es fácil de suggestionar, y eso para mi también es a 'red flag'.

Sobre la relación de Aleix y Jorge, creo simplemente que no hablan de eso. Hay veces que cuando sabes que tu mejor amigo y tu tienen ideales diferentes simplemente lo ignoras. También es que Jorge le debe mucho a Aleix, y si cómo tu dices el cambio se produjo después de que su amistad se entablara ahí lo tienes.

Que quieres que te diga, para mi es más importante la bandera que los likes. Yo no los he visto, pero se que a veces y difícil leer la intención del que lo ha publicado como por ejemplo si estaban siendo irónicos o sarcásticos. Y cuando crees que es una cosa, pues resulta que no. Pero la bandera es decision propia y es lo que es. Jorge no se avergüenza de mostrarla.

Creo que ya lo he dicho alguna vez, pero yo solo miro las carreras y sigo a los pilotos por lo que hacen en pista, no por quienes se juntas, y aunque Marc se este juntando con la peor calaña del mundo, su actitud siempre es respetuosa, no ha mostrado símbolos que incitan al odio o con símbolos tan politico. La única vez que lo hizo fue en Japón con camiseta con las caricaturas y luego se disculpo una vez que se le explico. Jorge parecía molesto por tener que disculparse por sus comentarios en el Hormiguero aún habiéndoselos explicado el porque la gente estaba molesta. Sinceramente, la actitud petulante junto con la ignorancia que ha demostrado y no querer aprender es mucho peor. Pero por mi puedes seguir a quien quieras, solo que sepas que no son santos y cada uno tiene sus problemas

[kamas-corner]

I Ya no es mágico el mundo. Te han dejado. Ya no compartirás la clara luna ni los lentos jardines. Ya no hay una luna que no sea espejo del pasado, cristal de soledad, sol de agonías. Adiós las mutuas manos y las sienes que acercaba el amor. Hoy sólo tienes la fiel memoria y los desiertos días. Nadie pierde (repites vanamente) sino lo que no tiene y no ha tenido nunca, pero no basta ser valiente para aprender el arte del olvido. Un símbolo, una rosa, te desgarra y te puede matar una guitarra. II Ya no seré feliz. Tal vez no importa. Hay tantas otras cosas en el mundo; un instante cualquiera es más profundo y diverso que el mar. La vida es corta y aunque las horas son tan largas, una oscura maravilla nos acecha, la muerte, ese otro mar, esa otra flecha que nos libra del sol y de la luna y del amor. La dicha que me diste y me quitaste debe ser borrada; lo que era todo tiene que ser nada. Sólo que me queda el goce de estar triste, esa vana costumbre que me inclina al Sur, a cierta puerta, a cierta esquina.

— Jorge Luis Borges | 1964

[jorge20yya]

pasen oc pa dibujar

nada mas eso, si tienen color mucho mejor jajaja, tengo super muerto este blog.

Ademas, que quiero practicar, ya que no tengo ningun oc aparte de mi avatar (si es que se le puede considerar oc XD)

[elbiotipo]

otra escritura de Borges, también de El Hacedor, que no me traumó pero sí me dejó una marca parecida en el alma:

Paradiso, XXXI, 108

Diodoro Sículo refiere la historia de un dios despedazado y disperso. ¿Quién, al andar por el crepúsculo o al trazar una fecha de su pasado, no sintió alguna vez que se había perdido una cosa infinita?

Los hombres han perdido una cara, una cara irrecuperable, y todos querrían ser aquel peregrino (soñado en el empíreo, bajo la Rosa) que en Roma ve el sudario de la Verónica y murmura con fe: "Jesucristo, Dios mío, Dios verdadero ¿así era, pues, tu cara?"

Una cara de piedra hay en un camino y una inscripción que dice: El verdadero Retrato de la Santa Cara del Dios de Jaén; si realmente supiéramos cómo fue, sería nuestra la clave de las parábolas y sabríamos si el hijo del carpintero fue también el Hijo de Dios.

Pablo la vio como una luz que lo derribó; Juan, como el sol cuando resplandece en su fuerza; Teresa de Jesús, muchas veces, bañada en luz tranquila, y no pudo jamás precisar el color de los ojos.

Perdimos esos rasgos, como puede perderse un número mágico, hecho de cifras habituales; como se pierde para siempre una imagen en el calidoscopio. Podemos verlos e ignorarlos. El perfil de un judío en el subterráneo es tal vez el de Cristo; las manos que nos dan unas monedas en una ventanilla tal vez repiten las que unos soldados, un día, clavaron en la cruz.

Tal vez un rasgo de la cara crucificada acecha en cada espejo; tal vez la cara se murió, se borró, para que Dios sea todos.

Quién sabe si esta noche no la veremos en los laberintos del sueño y no lo sabremos mañana.

-Jorge Luis Borges

[notasfilosoficas]

“Una mentira viaja alrededor del mundo mientras la verdad se pone las botas”

Edgar Allan Poe

Fue un escritor, poeta, crítico y periodista estadounidense nacido en Boston Massachusetts  en enero de 1809.

Esta reconocido como uno de los maestros universales del relato corto, así mismo, fue renovador de la novela gótica y recordado especialmente por sus cuentos de terror.

Su padre, de ascendencia irlandesa, abandonó a su familia cuando Edgar tenía un año y su madre murió un año después de tuberculosis. Se dice que lo único que conservó de sus padres fue un retrato de su madre y un dibujo del puerto de Boston.

Tanto Edgar como su hermana, fueron adoptados por una de las familias caritativas que habían cuidado de ellos al morir su madre. Un matrimonio formado por Frances y John Allan de Richmond Virginia. Su padrastro, del cual Edgar tomaría el apellido, era un acaudalado comerciante de ascendencia escocesa y un hombre colérico e intransigente, que influiría negativamente en la vida de Edgar. Por el contrario, su madrastra quien no había podido tener hijos, lo quiso y mimó siempre.

En 1823 a los 14 años de edad, ya había comenzado a hacer sus primeros escritos literarios. Edgar era un muchacho nervioso e irritable, con un brillo de ansiedad y tristeza en sus ojos.

Estudió lenguas en la Universidad de Virginia en Charlottesville y en 1827 incapaz de sobrevivir por sí mismo, se alistó en el ejército como soldado raso, cambiándose el nombre y aumentándose la edad.

Su primer libro fue publicado en 1827, con un tiraje de 50 ejemplares, un opúsculo de poesía en donde afirmaba que la mayoría de sus poemas los había escrito a los catorce años.

En 1830 se inscribió como cadete en West Point y un año después abandonó el servicio partiendo a Nueva York en donde editó su tercer libro de poemas.

Al morir su hermano, Poe se esforzó por retomar la carrera de escritor para lo cual tuvo que recurrir continuamente a pedir dinero y a todo tipo de situaciones humillantes relacionadas con la cuestión económica para salir adelante.

En 1834 murió su padrastro sin dejarle herencia alguna, sin embargo, Poe continuó con su empeño por lograr éxito literario. Trabajó como editor en un diario local, perdiendo el puesto al ser sorprendido varias veces en estado de embriaguez.

Trabajó durante varios años escribiendo relatos y crítica literaria para algunos periódicos de la época.

Su obra marcó profundamente la literatura de su país y ejerció gran influencia en la literatura simbolista francesa y a través de esta, en el surrealismo.

Son deudores suyos toda la literatura de fantasmas de la época victoriana, y fue un autor influyente en diversas figuras como Charles Baudelaire, Fedor Dostoyevski, William Faulkner, Franz Kafka y en Latinoamérica en Jorge Luis Borges y en Julio Cortázar, este último tradujo casi todos sus textos en prosa.

Murió en octubre de 1849 en la ciudad de Baltimore con apenas 40 años de edad. La causa de su muerte nunca fue esclarecida, sin embargo se manejaron múltiples posibles causas como alcoholismo, cólera, drogas, fallo cardiaco, rabia, suicidio, y tuberculosis.

Fuente Wikipedia

[jartitameteneis]

A los 85 años de edad, Don Jorge se casó con Ana, de 25 años.💏 Debido a que su marido es tan viejo, Ana decide que después de su boda, ella y don Jorge deben tener dormitorios separados. Luego de las festividades de la boda,🎂 Ana se prepara para la cama y de pronto se escuchan golpes en la puerta y al abrir está don Jorge, con sus 95 años… listo para la acción! Concluido el acto Don Jorge le da un beso de buenas noches y vuelve a su dormitorio. Después de algunos minutos, Ana oye otros golpes en la puerta del dormitorio y es don Jorge, listo para la segunda vuelta! Sorprendida, Ana acepta, y al final Don Jorge le da un cariñoso beso de buenas noches y se va. Más tarde, don Jorge está otra vez tocando la puerta, y tan fresco como un muchacho de 25 años… listo una vez más !!! Y asi sucede dos veces más, Don Jorge regresa con Ana y después de la acción, le da un beso de buenas noches a su esposa y regresa a su cuarto. Después de una hora, regresa don Jorge por sexta vez y como si nada! Termina y le da un beso de buenas noches a Ana; en esta ocasión Ana lo detiene 👧👴y le pide que se no se vaya; está sorprendida y le dice a Don Jorge:

Me impresiona que a tu edad puedas repetir ésto tantas veces Jorge, en verdad eres un gran amante. He estado con hombres con un tercio de tu edad y son totalmente incapaces de seguirte el paso. Don Jorge, voltea desconcertado, le pregunta a Ana:

¿Cómo!!! ya habia venido antes? Moraleja: El Alzheimer tiene sus ventajas!!!! Que la vida les sonría a todos!

[magneticovitalblog]

"SOLO TE AFECTA SI LO PERMITES"

—Cuando Mahatma Gandhi estudiaba Derecho en Londres, un profesor de apellido Peters le tenía desprecio y mala voluntad... pero, el alumno Gandhi nunca le bajó la cabeza y eran muy comunes sus encontronazos. Un día Peters almorzaba en el comedor de la Universidad, Gandhi vino con su bandeja y se sentó a su lado. El profesor muy altanero, le dijo: "Estudiante Gandhi, "Usted no entiende!! Un puerco y un pájaro no se sientan a comer juntos". Gandhi le contestó: ¡Esté usted tranquilo profesor, yo me voy volando!. Y se cambió de mesa. El profesor Peters lleno de rabia, porque entendió que el estudiante le había llamado PUERCO, decidió vengarse en el próximo examen... Pero el alumno respondió con brillantez a todas las preguntas. Entonces el profesor le hace la siguiente interpelación: "Gandhi, si usted va caminando por la calle y se encuentra dos bolsas, una de sabiduría y otra de dinero, ¿Cuál de las dos se lleva?". Gandhi responde sin titubear: "Claro que el dinero, profesor" El profesor sonriendo le dice: "Yo, en su lugar, hubiera agarrado la sabiduría, ¿no le parece? Gandhi responde: "Cada uno toma lo que no tiene, profesor". El profesor ya histérico escribe en la hoja de examen: "IDIOTA" y se la devuelve al joven. Gandhi toma la hoja y se sienta... al cabo de unos minutos se dirige al profesor y le dice: "Profesor Peters, usted me ha firmado la hoja, pero no me puso la nota..."

MORALEJA: Si permites que una ofensa te dañe... Te dañará. Pero si no lo permites, la ofensa volverá al lugar de donde salió.

Publicacion de Jorge Inda, cortesia @magneticovitalblog