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esuemmanuel · 5 months

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Si algo me llena el alma de alegría y gratitud es saber bien a mi mamá; mirarla y escucharla contenta, llena de luz y de vida… Abrazarla me hace sentir, más que amado, niño, pues en sus suaves brazos encuentro el descanso y la protección que tuve al nacer y que, de pronto, olvido y me es esquiva.

Si hay una mujer en el mundo que tiene el poder de hacerme sentir inocente, ingenuo y protegido, es mi mamá.

Antes de que ella me pensara, yo no existía como existo. Era un pedazo de nada en el medio del silencio y del vacío en espera de abrir los ojos a la vida. Ella me pensó, me imaginó, me nombró y, de pronto, ya me tenía navegando en su vientre como un pedacito de ella, pero con un corazón propio.

Navegué por nueve meses en su interior y pude impregnarme de su esencia. Bailaba cuando ella bailaba y lloraba cuando ella lloraba. Me dolía su dolor tanto como placer me daba su alegría. Era una extensión de su sangre, de su aliento, de su cuerpo y alma. Su genética yacía palpitando en la mía como una huella… ¿Cómo podría pensar separarme de su ser?

Creí que iba a navegar eternamente en su vientre, hasta que me sacaron de él.

Desperté, me obligaron a hacerlo… Me sacaron de mi cama y me elevaron al cielo para darme la bienvenida a este mundo del que no tenía ni un recuerdo. Pero, ahí estaba mi madre, la dueña de mi destino… la dulce mujer que, en su soledad, soñaba conmigo. Me estrechó en sus brazos cuando me cedieron a su pecho y besó mi frente mientras me nombró en secreto: su adorado sueño, el niño de su corazón y su regalo del cielo.

Photo by Oleg Sergeichik on Unsplash

If anything fills my soul with joy and gratitude, it is to know my mother well; to look at her and listen to her happy, full of light and life. Hugging her makes me feel, more than loved, a child, because in her soft arms I find the rest and protection I had at birth and that, suddenly, I forget and it is elusive to me.

If there is one woman in the world who has the power to make me feel innocent, naive and protected, it is my mother.

Before she thought of me, I did not exist as I exist. I was a piece of nothingness in the middle of silence and emptiness waiting to open my eyes to life. She thought of me, she imagined me, she named me and, suddenly, she had me sailing in her womb as a little piece of her, but with a heart of my own.

I sailed for nine months inside her and was able to soak in her essence. I danced when she danced and cried when she cried. I ached for her pain as much as I took pleasure in her joy. I was an extension of her blood, her breath, her body and soul. Her genetics lay pulsing in mine like an imprint… How could I ever think of separating myself from her being?

I thought I was going to sail eternally in her womb, until I was pulled out of it. I woke up, they made me do it… They took me out of my bed and lifted me into the sky to welcome me into this world of which I had no memory. But, there was my mother, the mistress of my destiny… the sweet woman who, in her solitude, dreamed of me. She clasped me in her arms as I yielded to her breast and kissed my forehead as she secretly named me: her adored dream, the child of her heart and her gift from heaven.

#poets #writers #authors #2023 #my mom and i #mi madre y yo #writing in solitude #escritores en tumblr #poetas en tumblr #poets on tumblr #pensamientos #the man of solitude #escribiendo en soledad #el hombre de la soledad #writers on tumblr #poeticstories

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alainas-sims · 3 months

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Salvador's Journal

I took Mary over to Mr. Lobo's gardens and we strolled. I couldn't resist the feeling of pride that in such a short time, they had already improved under my hard work. I'd ordered some new red rose bushes that are thriving. It was a lovely evening when I brought her to the gazebo and we sat and talked about our future together.

"Mary, I've talked to your parents, and they gave me their blessing." She looked like an angel in the light of the golden hour; I could've lost my nerve but her presence calmed me. I got down on one knee and presented her with a ring I'd saved up for with my earnings. "Will you be my wife, Maria Soledad Guerra?"

"Yes, Salvador, I love you and I believe that we can face the future together as husband and wife," she said. I was so happy I could've cried! After the wedding I will be moving in with Mary and her parents: they've been nothing but helpful and supportive of our relationship.

#Marquez 1940 #Marquez gen6 #Salvador Morales #Mary Guerra #ts4 historical #ts4 gameplay #random decades challenge #1940s #a big one! proud of myself for these shots <3

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encrucijada · 1 year

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happy aro day to the blorbos from my wips 💚🖤🤍

ezra from evergreen lung (love indifferent sex repulsed aroace)

artemis from astral convergence (loveless sex repulsed aroace)

connor & ángel from haze dogs (demiromantic/demisexual)

marilú from disasters to sleep through (loveless sex repulsed aroace)

+ bonus with no available excerpts: maree (alloaro) & iris (demiaro) from who cried wolf; theo (demi) & bee (aroace) from various wips; renée from speak, prophecy (aroace); persy from unreliable* (aroace); xiomara from evergreen lung (greyaroace); noelle from the lupine trail (demi); marjorie from from the mouths (demi); soledad from barrio ángeles (aroace); diana from fantasybane (aroace); juno from wolf mother (aroace)

#we have aro day now!!!#i am now visible twice (2) a year #pia.docx #aro visibility day #aromantic

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

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¿Quieres bailar conmigo?

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x gn!pilotreader [no use of y/n]

2.6k || Fanboy comes home from leave a day early to surprise you, but you surprise him instead.

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Genre: fluff

CW: overload of charisma

Author's Note: Fanboy is my favorite Top Gun: Maverick character and I’ve already read everything in existence about him, so I have to take matters into my own hands. || cross-posted on ao3

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The first thing Mickey heard when he turned the lock to your shared apartment was a breakup song playing loudly. Punctuated by your passionate cries. In some form of a miracle, you managed to miss every note, which Fanboy took as a sign that your heart was not truly broken and José José merely possessed you with the urge to put on the performance of a lifetime.

He slipped quietly into the flat. Taking his time to unlace his shoes, set down his bag, and softly clicked the door shut behind him. You were not alerted in the slightest. Too busy in the kitchen stirring and shouting, “Qué triste luce todo sin ti. Los mares de las playas se van.”

Every other line you would spin, working your feet through a quick box step with the occasional fling of your spoon when the emotion built. “Se tiñen los colores de gris. Hoy todo es soledad.” you stepped backwards, closer and closer to Mickey with your hips swaying in a way that made his uniform fit a bit too tight.

“Media naranja…” he let his voice trail off, soft enough for you to hear him. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the moment with a spike of adrenaline. He’d tried his best, but he never was good at subtlety when it came to you.

“Holy fuck!” You let out a startled scream, hand coming up to clutch at your heaving chest. “Mickey, I thought I asked you to stop doing that.”

“Aw, mi vida,” he laughed, stepping closer to grab you by the hips and pull you close to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You stick your bottom lip out at him in a pout. Far enough out that he can’t help the way his gaze lingers on it. “Don’t think you can kiss it better,” you tell him.

Fanboy hums. He brings a hand up to trail the back of his index finger down your cheek so that he can tilt your chin up a bit further. “Can’t I?” It’s fun to watch your reaction to the question, feeling the slightest strain against his fingers and you try to move closer to kiss him.

“Mickey,” you whine.

He closes the gap between you. “Mi cielo.” His voice is low, raspy. All his attempted teasing seems to take more out of him than you and he’d been away for far too long to let his moment draw out any longer. Fanboy cupped your cheek then pressed his lips against yours, filling in all the passion he’d left you without while he was away.

The last kiss he gave you before he’d left was quick. A domestic kind of peck married couples gave one another as they ran out the door for work. In a way, Mickey had convinced himself on the plane to Virginia Beach, that is exactly who the two of you were. You’d been together so long that being moved around from base to base wasn’t the heartbreaking news that it had once been but rather a fact of life the two of you had to live with. Still, it didn’t excuse the way Fanboy had let his own being late impact the last memory of him you were left with before he’d walked out the door. It was something he fully planned to make up for today.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip greedily. Mickey could, and had, memorized every corner of your mouth and it would never be enough to truly satiate him. The moment your lips parted for him Fanboy jumped on the opportunity to run his tongue along the side of yours. He moved with a confidence you had only ever been able to bring out of him.

You hum in satisfaction, fingers going to hook in the belt loops of his uniform. Sure of yourself. A goddess in control of his futile sense of humanity. Freedom and a prison all in one. There could be worse fates than being locked onto your lips for all eternity. Some Fanboy didn’t care enough to explore. Not when he had your body pressed against him and his lips bruised by the shape of yours.

“Mi cielo.” Mickey murmurs against your lips when he goes to take a breath. A kiss pressed to each of the corners of your mouth. “You have no clue what you do to me.” And then, as though you knew full well what you did to him, you slid your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to your lips once again.

You’re the one to pull away after a few more blissful moments of kissing. Mickey expected you to be. Yet he still had to take a moment, pressing his forehead to yours, hand cupped around your cheek, with his eyes closed. If he had the choice, the two of you would be in the bedroom right now but you had been in the middle of cooking, and he was hard pressed to pull you away from a task once you’d begun. “I love you.”

Mickey doesn’t need to open his eyes to know there was a goofy grin on your face. “I love you more, darling.” The words brought a heat up the back of his neck, settling on his ears. Years into this relationship and you still could fluster him. Mickey opened his eyes, pressed one more swift kiss to your lips, then leaned back to look at you.

For a moment it felt like the two of you were plunged back into the moment of your first kiss. Two kids in love staring at one another with smiles of disbelief. Fanboy knew a part of him would always be stuck in that feeling whenever the two of you kissed. There was no conceivable explanation for how he got so lucky to be able to kiss you whenever he pleased. To be able to call you his everything.

“Mi vida, when I came in… is that really how you’d react in the case of an intruder?” He asked quietly in a poor attempt to cover a soft laugh. “Scream your head off first, figure out a way to fight later?”

You roll your eyes at him and, even in your moments of playful aggravation, Mickey can’t help the way his pulse quickens. He uses his thumb to trace hearts on your waist. A way

“I’m a pilot, mi sol. There’s a reason I do all my fighting in the air.”

“I can teach you to fight.” When you laugh, he pulls you tight to him. “I’m serious. It’s easy, mi vida, a lot like dancing.”

“I’m a horrid dancer,” you tell him. Mickey shakes his head. You have the tendency to be overtly hard on yourself, but he’d seen you when he had walked through that door. Stunning, if a little out of practice. He knew that if he were to tell you that you’d only dismiss the idea entirely claiming that he thought everything you did was stunning and, while you wouldn’t exactly be wrong, he didn’t want you to shy away from his next offer, “Dance with me?”

“Right now? I’ve got dinner on the stove.”

In a swift series of steps, Mickey had you clinging onto him so that he could position the pair of you right in front of the stove. He turned off the stove with a self-satisfied smile. For every excuse you’d planned to make, Mickey had already compiled a thousand reasons why not to worry. It’s how the two of you had always been. Fanboy had lived up to his callsign in more ways than one. He followed you everywhere fixing one problem or the next, easing your fears without you having to so much as ask. A love language, people would call it, but Mickey must have been the only person on earth who could speak it.

“You’re insufferable.” Your words make him grin. The radio starts up with a new song. “Tú” by Los Elegantes de Jerez, one of his favorites to request at the Hard Deck when Penny had live bands instead of just letting the jukebox play the same music over and over each night. He’d yet to convince you to come out and dance with him, but Phoenix was always willing. Otherwise he was more than content to dance on his own, throwing out flirtatious remarks to try and persuade you to join him.

He steps back just enough to take you all in. You let out a confused laugh. “What?”

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo?”

“Mickey…”

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo, mi cielo?” He asks again with a bit more seriousness behind it and, when you don’t jump on the opportunity he adds, “Cocodrilo que duerme es cartera.”

“Fine, Mick. I’ll dance with-” You’re cut off with a squeak as Fanboy pulls you close. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, hand resting at the small of your back, and placed his left knee so that it rested against the inside of your right knee. It isn’t nearly as close as Mickey would like to be. He longed to crack open his chest and allow you to crawl inside to take residence in his heart so that the two of you physically portrayed Fanboy’s constant state of existence.

He brought his other arm up with your hand in his and waited patiently as you wrapped your arm around his neck. “Rest your weight into your hips.” He drags his gaze over your face, watching you calculate the right way to stand. Your analytical nature made him fall in love with you. The way your tongue would drag along your lips in deep concentration. It made it hard for him to remember what the hell he was saying in the first place. “The norteño means we have to keep our torsos connected.”

You settled your weight, pressing against him, and Mickey’s breath left him in a nervous exhale. “Not so confident anymore are we, Fanboy?” You laugh, and he ducked down slightly to press a kiss to the hollow beneath your ear.

“You make me crazy,” he said and started moving without giving you a warning. If he had told you to concentrate on the tempo you were bound to overthink and start lifting your feet instead of shuffling in wide arcs wherever Mickey led you. Once he was sure you weren’t going to stop him to start counting the beats he added, “we’re going to to step and swing our hips on each beat.”

Growing up his mother used to tell him how important it was to know how to dance. That it was the easiest way to find your other half that way. A perfect complement. Each move followed his lead. Right and then left. Two halves of a whole collapsed in an embrace Mickey never wanted to free himself from.

“Tú, solamente tú,” he sang into your ear with the fondness of someone discovering affection for the first time. A soulmate connected by the chorus of a song. “No necesito de nadie. Ni puedo dejar de mirarte.” You pressed against him, biting down roughly on your lip, and he could see the tender concentration as you counted in your head. “Hey,” he said, “eyes on me.”

Only, when you lifted your gaze to him, Mickey captured your lips in a tender kiss not once breaking step. These movements were second nature. Natural as ducking and dodging during a dogfight. He knew exactly where to let his smooth movements whirl him next. If he weren’t feeling so selfish, he might have included a spin just to hear your laughter. A sound as weightless as the way you moved against him. Mickey did not miss the way you playfully ground against him with each sway of your hips. The innocent confusion on your face while you watched his breath hitch. His hand stayed pressed to the small of your back. Drew you closer on each beat. Your hand on the base of his neck twirled the hair that needed to be cut before he went back. The gesture made him weak in the knees.

The song had finished minutes ago, but the two of you were still moving. He had been caught in the trance of your everything. Your smile, pulled back with mischievous joy; your eyes, how they lingered on his lips as he sang along; and your hands, how they clung to him even though he had no plans on letting you stray away from him during your dance.

He wanted to twirl the two of you out of this apartment. Take you to the Hard Deck. He wanted to call everyone on the Dagger Crew to the bar. Hell, he’d call anyone in off the streets to watch the two of you dance. Show everyone that you were his. Only he could draw this dreamy smile out of you. Only he could pull you out of your own head. Only he could love you like this.

You leaned forward to kiss him. “Thanks, darling. Can I finish dinner?” He relented. You, with great difficulty, managed to take a step back. Only to come back and kiss him with a ferocity that parted his lips almost immediately.

A different kind of dance began. Your tongue in his mouth, searching desperately for the words he had sung earlier. All you could pull out of him were gentle groans of pleasure. Mickey’s hands gripped at your waist. You were entirely in control. Each step forward led him backwards until he was pressed up against the counter.

Abandoning your hips, Fanboy moved his hands up to your hair. He had always learned in moments like this to let you believe that you could bring him to his knees. That thought might hold more truth to it that he cared to admit. But he could always slide his hands down to cup your face. Your weakness. He would tilt your head slightly, allowing him more room to slip his tongue into your mouth, and expose your neck enough for him to trail kisses downwards. So that when he did get onto his knees for you it was entirely of his own violation.

You noticed the change. You noticed everything when you cared to. “Mickey.” Your voice was muffled by his tongue tracing the shape of your bottom lip. “Mickey.” Once more he captured his own name and you had to pull away to say, “I have to make dinner.”

He sighed. “Do you?”

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

With one final peck he watched as you made your way back over to the stove. “I’ll have to make something more. I wasn’t expecting you today.”

There was no hint of annoyance in your voice. Fanboy could see you bite back a smile. He longed to turn you around to kiss you, but instead let you turn on the gas and stir the soup you’d been making humming José José.

“You do realize ‘El Triste’ is a breakup song, mi amor?” Mickey said, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you flush against him as you stirred the soup on the stove.

“When you’re gone I like to pretend I’m heartbroken.”

“And when I’m home?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “What do you like to pretend when I’m holding you like this?”

He could feel the sigh work its way out of your chest. You flicked off the gas once more. “I like to pretend that we’ll get a chance to eat dinner, but…”

Mickey laughed. “But?”

“But,” you said, “I think we’re ordering in tonight.”

“Are we now?” You spin around to wrap your arms around his neck, grinding up against him, and pulling away with a smug smile. “Oh, mi ciela, vamos a bailar.”

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groriatrevi10xx · 5 months

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Las Noches siempre eran silenciosas, Umbra ya se había acostumbrado a ello... A la soledad del Castillo y al Silencio absoluto, aunque el Castillo estuviera lleno de Sirvientes y Guardias, no había ruido... Sólo paz, los fuertes vientos que soplaban afuera también estaban en silencio.../The Nights were always silent, Umbra had already gotten used to it... To the solitude of the Castle and the absolute Silence, even if the Castle was full of Servants and Guards, there was no noise... Only peace, the strong wind that blew outside too It was silent...

Tan habitual... Tan... Tan.../So common... So... So...

Triste.../Sad...

Solo le recuerda su vida anterior, donde siempre reinó el silencio... No le gusta recordarlo, realmente no.../It only reminds him of his previous life, where silence always reigned... He doesn't like to remember it, he really doesn't...

Prefiere hundirse en sus deberes de Reina y Hechicera de ese Mundo... Cuanto más se distrae en esos deberes, montones de papeles, los recuerdos se nublan.../She prefers to sink into her duties as Queen and Sorceress of that World... The more she is distracted by those duties, piles of papers, memories become cloudy...

El pasado queda atrás.../The past is left behind...

Y hoy en esta noche donde brillan las estrellas; y brilla la luna, donde sopla el viento y los pétalos de las flores viajan hacia el horizonte.../And today on this night where the stars shine and the moon shines, where the wind blows and the flower petals travel to the horizon...

Escucha un potente llanto, se escucha por todo el Castillo, como un eco... No sabe qué hacer, es increíble hasta qué punto puede escucharlo, deja su bolígrafo y se levanta de su escritorio, no sabe si está corriendo... Esto no es habitual, no es.../He hears a powerful cry, it can be heard throughout the Castle, like an echo... He doesn't know what to do, it's incredible to what extent he can hear it, he puts down his pen and gets up from his desk, he doesn't know if he's running... This It's not usual, it's not...

Escucha.../Listen...

Baja las escaleras, abre puertas, esta vez se siente frustrada porque su Castillo es enorme.../She goes down stairs, opens doors, this time she feels frustrated that her Castle is huge...

Ella no ve ningún Sirviente o Guardia, no le importa.../She doesn't see any Servant or Guard, she doesn't care...

Quiere llegar a ese llanto rápidamente.../She wants to get to that crying quickly...

Ella no sabe por qué.../She doesn't know why...

Pero cuando llega a la puerta principal del Castillo, su corazón parece detenerse, afuera se escucha un llanto.../But when he reaches the main door of the Castle, his heart seems to stop, crying is heard outside...

Abre las puertas.../Open the doors...

Y esta vez escucha lluvia, truenos, llantos.../And this time he hears rain, thunder, crying...

Mira hacia el suelo y encuentra algo en el escalón, un pequeño bulto que se mueve, llora y se moja con la lluvia.../He looks down at the ground to find something on the step, a small lump that moves, cries and gets wet in the rain...

Ella rápidamente se acerca y lo toma en sus brazos, lo aleja de la lluvia.../She quickly approaches and takes him in her arms, takes him away from the rain...

¿Quién sería tan cruel como para dejar un bebé aquí en la puerta de su castillo?.../Who would be so cruel to leave a baby here at the door of his castle?...

No sabe que hacer solo descubre un poco de la tela casi mojada que cubre al bebe en su rostro, pequeños y pocos pelos salen de su cabeza, bonita, rubia ceniza, ojos marrones abiertos y cerrados, llora... Su piel es blanca y bonita... Ella sabe que es una niña, es obvio, por razones obvias.../He doesn't know what to do, he just uncovers a little of the almost wet cloth that covers the baby on his face, small and few hairs come out of his head, pretty, ashy blonde, brown eyes open and close, he cries... His skin is white and pretty... She knows she's a girl, it's obvious, for obvious reasons...

Busca por todos lados, busca algo o alguien, a su madre o una nota con una explicación, pero nada.../He looks everywhere, looks for something or someone, his mother or a note with an explanation, but nothing...

Soledad.../Loneliness...

Arrulla al bebé, oye sus suspiros, lo acerca a su pecho.../He lulls the baby, he can hear her sighs, he brings him close to her chest...

Y sonríe, la Reina sonríe de verdad.../And smile, the Queen really smiles...

Ella no sabe que hace ese bebé allí, pero no piensa dejarlo allí.../She doesn't know that she makes that baby there, but she doesn't plan to leave it there...

--Vamos a cambiarte bebé, lo necesitas urgente...--/--Let's go change you baby, you need it urgently...--

La Reina piensa que no podrá llamar siempre a la niña simplemente "bebé".../The Queen thinks, she can't forever call the little girl just by "baby"...

-Hmmm… Teagan, ese… Ese sería tu nombre…--/--Hmmm... Teagan, that... That would be your name...--

Ella sonríe... Es un bonito nombre, piensa Umbra y mientras canta una canción de cuna, entra al Castillo.../She smiles... It's a nice name, Umbra thinks and while singing a lullaby, she walks into the Castle...

La bebé se mueve, su llanto cesó y sus manos quisieron alcanzar los rizos de la Mujer que la sostenía.../The baby moves, her cries stopped and her hands wanted to reach the curls of the Woman who was holding her...

Y que parecía llevarla a un lugar extraño.../And that he seemed to take her into a strange place...

El frío desaparece ahora que esa Mujer está a su lado.../The cold disappears now that that Woman is next to her...

Y la Oscuridad de la noche desaparece.../And the Darkness of the night disappears...

Umbra abre los ojos, está en el Jardín... Es de día, ve la manzana en sus manos, a veces tiende a perderse en sus recuerdos... A veces le gustaría volver atrás, cuando Teagan era un bebé o una pequeña niña inocente.../Umbra opens her eyes, she is in the Garden... It is daytime, she sees the apple in her hands, sometimes she tends to get lost in her memories... Sometimes she would like to go back, when Teagan was a baby or a little innocent girl...

No sabe qué hizo mal, pero sabe que falló como Madre... Lo sabe, porque Teagan la mira desde una ventana, con odio ardiente.../She doesn't know what she did wrong, but she knows that she failed as a Mother... She knows, because Teagan looks at her from a window, with burning hatred...

Pero la Reina no llora, después de todo, le enseñaron a no romperse nunca.../But the Queen doesn't cry, after all, she was taught to never break...

-------

"La Reina Umbra y la Princesa Teagan con sólo 6-7 años.../Queen Umbra and Princess Teagan at only 6-7 years old..."

------

Umbra: Es mía... {It's mine...}

Brittany {Teagan} es de {Brittany {Teagan} is from}: @askkassandragf-v-2

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beruzebubu · 1 year

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Tengo demonio en miente quieren que haga maldad.

#cris mj #chile #te extraño #escritos #frases #cosas que escribo #escritos de amor #vuelve #notas #escritos de un loco #desamor #pensamientos #tristeza #dolor #corazon roto #palabras #letras #soledad #realidad

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thetwstwildcard · 3 months

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📻 for any!

We're gonna go with good ol' skeleton mom herself for this one 😌

This fits both Catrina and Soledad Maravilla but the focus will be on Catrina since she got out of the abusive relationship while her mother is still with Arturo...

"Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables? Emotional torture from the head of your high table. Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting"

Catrina was the one who wrote all the songs that made Emiliano popular. He never credited her. She was the "pretty accessory" on his arm at all his parties and he used her magic as a parlor trick to show his "great choice in a wife". While Emiliano was out and about with friends and associates Catrina had to deal with Emiliano fangirls (who didn't know he was abusive) hurl threats at her. She had to deal with the media world tearing into her but "Emilano could do no wrong". She had to tend to her wounds, scars and alcohol addiction (because of him) all alone. To sit in "emotional torture" because the maids could take the physical proof of the wounds he gave her away while she was left alone to deal with the trauma.

"If our love died, would that be the worst thing? For somebody I thought was my saviour you sure make me do a whole lot of labour"

Catrina fell out of love with Emilano while they were still married because of the abuse, affairs and abandonment. Catrina met Emiliano shortly after Dante's death where her family blamed her for his death. In the beginning Emiliano showed her the love she never had before turning around and making her call herself "Dante's murderer" (he died of an overblot where Catrina had to put him out of his misery. He would of died anyway but it was less painful for Catrina to help him)

"If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her. The emotional torture, from the head of your high table. She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate. So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake at least I've gotta try"

Catrina knew Emiliano would use Araceli (Celi) like he was already using Aristóteles (Ari) but feared it would take a route similar to Emiliano's childhood and abuse at the hands of celebrities. Catrina also knew what it was like with her mother. Its a cycle of abuse, of daughters who grew up with loveless parents (where the mother was stuck with father) that lead the daughter to find a man who will only end up treating her the same way her father treated her mother. Soledad was abused by Arturo but couldn't escape or "protect" her children from their father. This lead to Catrina's childhood rebellion and eventual marriage to Emiliano only to end up the battered wife because she didn't know what a healthy relationship was. Catrina knows Celi would end up the same (and feared if she stayed Ari would end up like his father) so while she couldn't save them from the fact of being Emiliano's children she can still flee his side and try to make a better life for them all.

"All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid. Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant. Just an appendage, live to attend him so that he never lifts a finger. 24-7 baby machine. So he can live out his picket fence dreams. It's not an act of love if you make her. You make me do too much labour"

Even after all the abuse Emiliano did to Catrina he would often "cry" and guilt her into comforting him. No matter how beaten and disgusted at what he forced her to do, she still had to hold and comfort him while he "cried" into her chest on their bed. He hated that she explored her sexuality when she was younger yet insisted she showed skin and allowed other male celebrities to touch her and "go along with it" in public. She had to listen to exactly what he told her to do or he'd punish her. Emiliano wanted the public to think he was a great dad so he'd play up being a great father to the camera and force Catrina to take care of Ari and Celi alone. Catrina didn't want children (thought she was too "damaged"/"didn't want to become her mother" without knowing she already was), but Emiliano wanted children, so they had children. Emiliano forced Catrina to do so much to show her "love and loyalty" to him while he would constantly cheat on her.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc #twstoc #twst ocs #lizz talks #Catrina Maravilla #Lizz remembers how to answer her ask box jkjk

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