#climbing portugal

[kaimaciel]

A vage one for you too!

Window

Afonso slowly woke up by the sounds of something banging against his window. At first, his sleepy mind deduced it was a tree branch but the sounds continued and it clearly wasn't a tree.

He stared at the window and saw a little hand banging the glass and two shiny eyes glancing inside his bedroom.

"Luciano!" he got up from the bed and opened the window, pulling the young boy inside. Luciano's clothes were torn on several places, mixed with dirt and green stains, and he was missing his shoes. "Where the hell have you been? I've been looking for you for 3 days! Why weren't at home?"

The boy was silent and glared at Afonso.

"What?"

"You left! You keep leaving and then I'm alone!"

There were tears on Luciano's face as he hugged Afonso's chest for dear life.

Afonso's sighed and hugged him back, brushing his soft curls. He had already explained why he needed to leave, there was nothing new he could say.

"Luciano, did something happen while I was gone?"

But the boy didn't answer, he had fallen asleep, his hands still grabbing Afonso's shirt tightly.

Afonso decided he'd ask in the morning.

[tumblasha]

everyone has a City that made them rethink their views on alcohol completely

[theageofmaria]

[irgendeinreiseblog]

[cascaisroutes]

Rock Climbing in Portugal - Cascais Routes

Have you always dreamed of being the Spiderman of your neighbourhood? Grab onto this activity with tooth, nail and ropes. Whether it’s your first experience or already second nature to you, we'll take you to the best cliffs and ridges of Cascais and Sintra.

Visit here to know more: https://www.cascaisroutes.pt/rock-climbing

You can also find us here: https://www.facebook.com/cascaisroutes https://www.instagram.com/cascaisroutes/ https://www.youtube.com/@cascaisroutes/

[leennaan]

Alessia Russo /

Sleepless Nights

It was late at night. With a sigh you grab your phone off the nightstand, looking at the time.

2:45. Another sigh leaves your lips as you throw your phone on your bed. Deciding lying any longer in bed will not bring you any sleep you stand up. Grabbing your phone again as well as your keycard you leave your room, happy to not have a roommate you could potentially wake.

Once you left your room you don’t know where to go. You thought to go to the team room at first but ultimately thinking that you needed to find a way to get at least a bit of sleep if you wanted to play good in tomorrows friendly against Portugal you went to the one room you knew Alessia was sharing with Ella. You where hesitant to knock on the door, not wanting to wake either of the two.

After standing in front of said door for another five minutes you finale made up your mind and knocked slightly.

When no one opened you thought about knocking again but decided against it. Turning around to go back to your room but before you could start walking the door opened and a tired looking Lessi was standing in front of you. Her hair was tussled and you thought she looked beautiful.

“Y/n? Is everything alright? It’s 3 in the morning, why are you not sleeping?”

You instantly felt bed to have woken your girlfriend so late at night when you had an important game tomorrow and she needed a good sleep.

“I am sorry Lessi. I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”

Thinking you should just go back to your own room and not disturb her anymore you were about to leave but Alessia reached out her hand to grab your arm.

“Hey it’s alright. You know you can always wake me up. You are more important than some sleep. You look tired. Come here.”

Without another word she pulled you into her arms and you instantly relaxed into her.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You mumbled into her neck. “I couldn’t stop worrying about tomorrow.” You admitted at last. It wasn’t your first camp nor your first game for England but you were never in the starting eleven but with so many injuries in the team you would be replacing Leah in the back. No one had put any pressure on you and all were really happy for you especially Leah herself, one of you best friends and Club teammates. She had told you to not think too much about it and to just enjoy it. And until you laid in bed you hadn’t thought about it to much, but with no distraction anymore your brain wouldn’t should up about tomorrow.

“Oh baby. You will do so good tomorrow. You deserve this so much and I am so proud of you! We all are. You have absolutely no reason to worry.”

She pulled you even more into her and rubbed her hand over your back.

“Can I sleep with you, tonight?” You asked with a small voice, scared Alessia would say no.

“Of course you can, mia amata.” She kissed you on your forehead and took you into her room. Ella was still sleeping in her bed like a stone and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at the sight.

“I don’t think anything could disturb her.” Your girlfriend laughed and you agreed.

Alessia climbed back into her bed and patted the spot next to her. The bed was small but you didn’t care. You happily joined her in bed and sighed once again when her arms circled around your body and pulled you closer to her so that you almost lay on top of her. She kissed your hairline and startet to rub your back slightly. “I’ve got you bellezza. Try to sleep a bit more” She whispered into your ear.

Your eyes felt heavy almost instantly. “I love you Lessi” you whispered before you fell asleep in Alessia’s arms, feeling safe in her presence.

With a last kiss to your head she fell asleep too.

*mia amata- my love

*bellezza- beauty

I hope you liked this little ficklet. I couldn’t get this idea out of my head so I had to write it down.

Love Lee❤️

[flordemurta]

Antónia Rodrigues was arguably one of the most intriguing and significant in portuguese History, yet she remains largely unrecognised.

She was born on the 5th of january 1572, the daughter of Leonor Dias and Simão Rodrigues, and lived in the parish of Nossa Senhora da Apresentação, in Aveiro. Simão was a deep-sea fisherman, which meant he spent most of his time away from home and due to this and because of poverty, they decided to send Antónia to Lisbon, where her married sister lived.

Once in Lisbon, Antónia began to feel “more liberated” — partly because her sister was quite neglectful and careless in her upbringing, which instilled in Antónia a haughty character “unsuitable” for her age, and always refusing to do tasks deemed “appropriate for her gender”.

Until one day, she learned that a caravel named “Nossa Senhora do Socorro” was settling sail for Mazagan with a cargo of wheat. At the time, Antónia was 15 years old, yet in the eyes of the people, she was remarkably beautiful, elegant, with long black hair, dark eyes, a tanned complexion, and full lips. So, she decided to cut her hair and wear “masculine” clothes, adopted the name “António” and enlisted for the crew of the coveted caravel. The captain immediately noted how easily António climbed the masts, without fear of falling or being disturbed by the swaying of the storms.

After his martime adventure and upon reaching Mazagan, due to the merit and good reputation, he had gained throughout his adventure, António decided to enlist as a simple soldier in the portuguese troop and the troops’ governor immediately accepted. The moroccans attempted several times to regain Mazagan from the portuguese empire, and although they were always repelled, they never gave up trying. It was in one of these attempts that António, a young soldier, with his bravery, won the decisive battle, and from then on, he was regarded as a hero.

António began to be invited by wealthy and well-known families of the time to soirées, he engaged with ladies, dancing and drinking with them, having long conversations with many of them. With that, Rodrigues, to conceal his true identity, nurtured some of these relationships and many of them ended up falling in love with him. Among these ladies. Beatriz de Menezes, the daughter of a very influential nobleman, stands out. Beatriz was so in love with António that she became seriously ill with the fear of losing her beloved, prompting her father to compel António to ask for his daughter’s hand. However, the soldier had no choice but to reveal the whole truth about himself, including the fact that she came from a very poor and humble family.

The truth is Antónia suffered no punishment, and little is known about her life after this revelation, except that she eventually married an acquaintance from the portuguese troop, and together they had a son (whose identity remains unknown), she returned to Portugal and shortly afterward became a widow. King Filipe II of Portugal and III of Spain even granted her a great proze for her bravery in crossing the boundaries imposed by society.

Antónia Rodrigues passed away in 1641.

[i9messi]

I love you — Ruben Dias

Rubén is so in love with you and in the heat of the moment, he lets you know his feelings.

Word count — 831

a/n: a little suggestive but not too much. also, i had to google some portuguese dishes, sorry if I'd made a mistake

ruben's masterlist

Ruben and you had been dating for a month and a half, the relationship was still at its starting point and yet, it was like you knew him your whole life. He was attentive, he loved to make flirty comments whenever he had the chance, and he showed his affection in ways that made your heart warm. That same night you had decided to go to a nice restaurant where they served traditional portuguese food.

Ruben was too excited that you would try the traditional food of his country, he was like a little boy who wanted to show his new toy to his friend. Except, you guys were much more than friends.

Ruben had not been able to take his eyes off you, from the moment he saw you wearing that dress he knew his pulse was frantic. Suddenly, he wanted to come back to his apartment, to have you all to himself. It was selfish thinking, but at the time, it was right thinking. In your case, you were still trying to get used to hearing him speak in his native language. There was something about the way he pronounced the words in portuguese, which made you drink from your glass of water urgently.

Your boyfriend talked to the restaurant managers and once he finished what you assumed was a friendly chat, they led you to a table. You had given Ruben all the freedom to choose the dishes, because you really had no idea of any of them. You were a little nervous about what you were going to eat, but you trusted your partner’s selection.

"If you make me eat something disgusting, I’ll get even."

Rubén smiled at you, "As much as your way of getting revenge sounds interesting to me, I promise I chose food you’ll like."

A few minutes later, the dishes finally arrived. You looked at the plate with your eyes wide open.

"What is this? What's its name?"

"Francesinha. I hope you like it."

Ruben helped you cut the Francesinha and you took the fork to your mouth. His eyes looked at you expectantly, waiting for your approval. The taste came to your taste buds, filling your mouth with flavor.

"Uhm, this is very good."

"Try this too, it’s called Bacalhau à Brás."

Everything was delicious and with each new dish, Ruben told you the names and told you what ingredients it had. You felt the heat build up in your body every time you heard him speak in his native language. He must have noticed the way you were looking at him, because he smiled at you. A sassy smile.

"Remind me to take you to Portugal, I can’t wait to introduce you to my country."

"Will you be my tour guide?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Well, I am a lucky person, I'll have an excellent and attractive tour guide. It will be difficult to focus on the view."

To be honest, Ruben was the view you cared most about.

He laughed, "And I'll have a beautiful tourist I long to kiss all the time."

"I don’t think that’s very professional of you."

He winked at you and you both continued eating from your plates. Once you finished your meals, your boyfriend took you to his apartment. You were entering his house when his hands went to your cheeks and he kissed you desperately. You were as desperate as him. Ruben pushed you to the armchair in the living room, where you climbed into his lap and continued kissing him.

"Do you think I didn’t notice the way you blushed when I spoke portuguese?"

You giggled, "Were you doing it on purpose?"

"Provoking you is my purpose in life, I love to see you all desperate and blushing. You should know by now."

"Ruben..." he didn’t let you keep talking, he just kissed you and you forgot what you had to tell him.

Everything your boyfriend did was on purpose, sometimes he would walk around his apartment when you were there showing off his abdomen, knowing in advance that his muscles and entire body made you think of improper things.. Ruben Dias loved to provoke you.

"Eu te amo."

It wasn’t hard for you to understand what those words meant. Ruben had told you that he loved you. He had said it so lightly that he himself had not noticed. You stepped out of his mouth and took a breath, your heart was beating frantically and you didn’t know if it was from those kisses, or the fact that your boyfriend had told you that he loved you.

"Ruben..." it was the first time he said those words.

"What did you just say?"

You just needed to confirm what you had heard.

Rubén noticed his words and, regardless of the nerves in his stomach, smiled and came to steal you a kiss.

"I said I love you."

"You do?"

"I do. I love you so much."

You smiled, "Eu te amo, Rubén."

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - A House Is Not A Home Part 8/8

I held my promise. It's still Sunday here in Stockholm. 😅

Enjoy the last part of this story.

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

Perhaps that's how things were suppose to be, you and Johnny against the world. No one would fight for you unless you did so yourself. Not Johnny's father, not Ruben, not anyone. You were all alone and that's how things were suppose to be.

You sat under the big oak tree in your backyard, watching Johnny as he climbed higher and higher up the trunk. It had only been the two of you for the past few weeks. Though, Katarina and David never failed to invite you over to their house, but you didn't want to put them in a position where they had to choose between you and their only daughter. Not that they would find the choice any difficult.

"Mommy, mommy, look at me!" Johnny shouted somwhere above your head.

"Be careful sweetie. Not so high." You mumbled, too deep in your thoughts to pay any attention to him.

Ruben and Emily were probably somwhere in Portugal right now, bonding over knocking down the walls to their new found house. A friend of Ruben's told you the news, someone from David's bar. Ruben and Emily had finally found a house and were now busy renovating the property surrounding it. It was hard to admit that you were more sad than you were angry. It was hard to admit how much it hurt to miss him. Everything reminded you of your time together. Like that truck spotted in the distance, looking like it was coming your way.

"Mommy, mommy look how high...."

Suddenly, you heard a loud thud and saw Johnny tumbling through the air, landing with a sickening crunch on the ground below. You rushed to his side, heart racing with fear. Johnny was crying and holding his arm, which was twisted at an odd angle. "Oh my god, baby?"

He started to cry, blood gushing out of a wound in his forhead.

"No, stay with me baby. Stay with mommy."

Johnny's face went pale as his eyes began to flicker.

The crying stopped.

"No, no, no."

You cradled him in your arms too afraid to move his body, his limb body.

"What happened?"

There had been noise behind you, noise you were too in shock to comprehend. The truck you saw coming your way had been swirling on the gravel road leading up to your house. Ruben jumped out at the sight of you, Johnny unconscious in your arms.

"Y/N, what happened?" He knelt beside you. You were clearly too stunned to speak.

"I..don't...? Ruben you're..."

"There's no time." He said, helping you up off the ground. You and Ruben then rushed to his car, the truck tossing gravel on it's way to the nearest hospital. You refused to sit down in the hospital waiting room. The paramedics had taken Johnny, rushing him into the nearest emergency room. That was two hours ago and you still had no update on how he was doing.

"Here."

Ruben had gone for a coffee run. You thanked him as he handed you your paper cup.

"You should sit." He said. "The doctors will tell us what's going on once..."

"I'm fine."

Ruben fell silent but nodded understandingly. He had gone to take a seat himself but got up to stand next to you, to drape an arm around your shoulders to comfort you.

"You shouldn't be here." You said, shrugging his reaching arm away.

He looked at you confused and slightly hurt.

"I mean, you shouldn't be here, in this country."

Ruben's face softened. "Y/N, I...."

"There you are!"

Two figures came into the quiet waiting room, both of them rushing towards you. "We came here as soon as we heard." Katarina swept you into her embrace, no intentions of letting you go despite your need of oxygen. "Ruben?" They let you go though, at the sight of Ruben. "What are you doing here son?" David uttured, scratching the back of his neck in confusion.

"And where is Emily?" Katarina frowned.

Ruben's head shifted between the three of you, wanting to answer all of your questions. However, he was briefly interrupted by a man dressed in a white coat addressing you by your last name.

"Yes?" You stepped forward, eager to receive some news about your son.

"Your son has suffered a small fractutre in his humerus." The doctor said.

"Thank god." Katarina sighed.

"But because of the bleeding we found in his brain we would like to keep him in the hospital overnight."

"Oh my."

Katarina put a hand to her mouth, smothering her astonishment. You, however didn't really grasp what the doctors was trying to tell you. "I don't understand is my son going to live or not?"

A hand was placed on your shoulder, Ruben's hand. It instatnly brought you comfort.

"Most likely." The doctor said, too professionally for your liking. Perhaps he didn't have children of his own, or else he would have understood how you were feeling right then.

"We only suspect a small cerebral hemorrhage. If this is the case our surgeons will know how to treat it."

"Surgeons? My son will need surgery?" A pressure apperead in the center of your chest, making it almost impossible to take a breath. You were on the verge passing out if it hadn't been for Ruben, his arm now wrapped around your waist.

"We'll run some test overnight Mrs Y/L/N. The hospital will give you a call once the results get in. But for now I suggested you and your family have a safe trip home." With a click of his pen, the doctor indicated that he had other places to be.

"But my family is my son, I'm not going anywhere!" You exclaimed, tears flooding your eyes. People in the waiting room were startled by your sudden outburst, let alone the innocent doctor.

"Y/N, dear." Katarina stepped forward. "It's time to go. David and I'll will take you home."

"No I..."

She squeeze your hand. "Don't worry, Johnny will be alright. You'll be by his side first thing in the morning, okay."

You nodded slowly. "Okay."

And with that they brought you to their home, letting you stay in their guest room. But how could you sleep when your baby was left alone in that hospital. Perhaps he was afraid, calling for you without answer?

"Y/N, don't."

You had snucked downstairs, careful not to wake anybody as you prepared to leave. A shadow on the living room couch made you jump. Ruben got up to turn on the lights. He found your trembling by the door. "Don't...leave." He said, his eyes laced with sleep. He must have slept on the couch. Of course, now back in town, he must have been staying at Katarina and David's, in their spare bedroom, now occupied by yours truly.

"I have to, he needs me." You said, tears in your eyes.

"What Johnny needs is for you to be strong."

"But I'm so..."

Ruben had gotten to you, wrapping his arms around you before you could finish the sentence. You inhaled his familiar scent, enclosing your arms around his waist. The hug, his hug, it had to last forever, he was not allowed to let you go.

"No." You cried, once he did.

Ruben looked at you, brows furrowed.

"Don't let me go." You whispered.

Surprised, he smiled. "Then I won't." He wrapped you into his embrace again, holding you tight. You felt safe and cared for, as if nothing in the entire world could hurt you. As if....

"Ruben?" You pulled back, a frown on your face. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here?"

Ruben looked at you, slightly amused. "But I am."

"Yes, I can see that, but why? Where is Emily, why aren't you with her in Portugal...at your house?"

Ruben shook his head,  smiling at you faintly. Nothing about the situation was funny to you. How could he smile when you were obviously....

"Y/N." He said, reading the confusion on your face. "It's just a house." He shrugged.

You didn't quite understand.

"Emily can have it. I think she needs it. It will help her find closure. But to me..." Ruben stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He grabbed your hand, his brown eyes looking deeply into yours. "To me it's just a house."

"But..." Your protests meant nothing. A part of you were afraid that if you stopped arguing Ruben might not find a reason to comfort you anymore, to stop hugging you,  to let you go. You looked down to where your hands were intertwined. Ruben's thumb was stroking the back of your hand. Light strokes, delcatly moving across your skin. You looked up, eyes glossy. "It's just a house?"

He smiled. "It's just a house, not a home. Home is whenever I'm with you."

"Ruben I..."

He stopped you from agruging further, his methods unorthodox. You were backed up against the front door, Ruben pinning your arms above your head. He kissed you with urgency, perhaps to finally convince you that he was here to stay. You were convinced.

"You choose me."

The kiss parted. You wore a smile. Ruben traced a thumb on the outer ends of your cupid's bow.

"Like I said." He grunted. "Your my home Y/N."

Ruben kissed you again, this time indicating that you should take things upstairs, but only so that he could hold you close through the night, his lips close to your ear, assuring you that Johnny was gonna be so happy to see his mom first thing in the morning when he wakes up.

The morning came. You and Ruben returned to the hospital. And surely the two of you were by Johnny's bed to see him open his eyes for the first time.

"Mommy, my head hurts." He groaned. "And my arm."

You stroked his head and smiled, tears flooding your eyes. "I know baby, it's because you fell from a tree. You climbed very high and fell."

"I climbed high." He said, his voice weak but still tracing his regular joyous personality. "Did you see me mommy,  I climbed high."

A wet laugh escape your mouth. "I did see you baby, you did amazing."

"Ruweeen!"

Your son's eyes widened once every noticed him standing behind you.

"Hey little buddy."

Ruben stepped up to his bed, patting Johnny's legs over the hospital bed covers. "A cool cast you got there." He pointed towards the knewly swept cast on Johnny's left arm.

Johnny held up his arm with support of the other,  proudly showing off his battle scars. "I fell!" He exclaimed.

"So I've heard." Ruben laughed, reaching out to tossle Johnny's hair.

"Mommy, mommy I want pancakes!" Your son exclaimed, not looking to be someone recovering from a severe fall.

"Is that so?" You laughed. "Would you like my pancakes when we come home, or Ruben's?"

Johnny's eyes furrowed as he had to think. However, there existed only one correct answer. "Ruweeen's!"

Johnny was discharge from the hospital later that same afternoon and the three of you went on to have Ruben's famous pancakes for dinner. You went on to have them that Sunday and every Sunday after that.

The End

[mindblowingscience]

Named after its habitat preference, Paroedura manongavato, from the Malagasy words "manonga" (to climb) and "vato" (rock), is a bouldering expert. Part of its "home range" is also very well-known to rock climbers for its massive granitic domes. "Its description represents another step into the crux (in climbing jargon, the most difficult section of a bouldering problem) of resolving the taxonomy of the recently revised P. bastardi group, where the new species belongs, and reaching a total of 25 described species in this genus, all exclusively living in Madagascar and Comoros," says C. Piccoli from CIBIO—Research Center in Biodiversity and Genetic Resources, Portugal. She and her team just published a paper describing the new gecko.

Continue Reading.

[pitviperofdoom]

So I decided a little while ago to do a full series reread of Redwall. I’m still early in it, I just finished Redwall and started Mossflower, and you know what? Might as well express my thoughts as I go. Blacklist “redwall reread” if you don’t want to see this, there WILL be spoilers.

So! Thoughts, on reflection, about Redwall:

Something I forgot along the way is just how competent Matthias is right from the start. Granted he lives in a society that hasn’t seen war in several generations so it’s not like he has a lot of competition, but he still goes from Bumbling Novice Who Doesn’t Quite Fit In to a martial and tactical powerhouse alongside Constance, the one who closed negotiations by picking up an entire banquet table and throwing it.

And not only that, people listen to him! As soon as negotiations break down, Matthias jumps in with a plan and all his elders listen. I watched the animated series growing up, which was... not super great, quality wise, but enjoyable enough for a kid. And one of the changes the show made was playing up Matthias’s childishness and inexperience. In the adaptation, when everyone’s panicking about the legendary warlord marching on the abbey, Matthias jumps in with this rallying speech about how they’ll fight back, and the abbot scolds him for it. “No more talk of fighting,” when Cluny the Scourge is almost at their doorstep. In the original book?

“Do? I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll be ready.” The Abbot could not help shaking his head in admiration. It seemed that young Matthias had hidden depths. “Why, thank you, Matthias,” he said. “I could not have put it better myself. That’s exactly what we will do. We’ll be ready!”

(Years later, a certain wizard in a certain film adaptation would ask a question calmly.)

This book has a beaver in it. And a horse. And the mention of a dog. And Portugal.

Speaking of which, one of the many things that I think sets this book apart from the rest is that it feels like Jacques is making an attempt to write a book that takes place in a smaller Mouse World that exists within a larger world. The abbey is mouse-sized, of course, but an entire army of rats rides in on a single horse-drawn hay cart. Matthias climbs hay bales in a barn and falls into a cat’s mouth. Again, Portugal exists.

Idk what my point is, it just goes to show that BJ really was gradually building this world as he wrote it. I didn’t obsess so much over canon continuity, I just came up with my own explanations for things.

Ah, phonetic accents. I have mixed feelings about phonetic accents these days. I know logically that it’s better to avoid them, but like. I read the moles’ dialogue and try to imagine what it would look like without every word misspelled to exaggerate the dialect, and I just. Couldn’t visualize it. Moles just aren’t moles if you aren’t rereading their lines two or three times to parse what they’re saying. (Excepting Egburt the Scholar, of course, but I won’t see him for several books.)

I think my lifelong obsession with ferrets can be traced back to Killconey. I just. I know he’s a villain but I just love this guy so much. He’s adorable, he’s got a solid head on his shoulders, and he never tries to screw over his comrades, murder his comrades, bully his comrades, or flat-out lie to Cluny to get ahead, like SOME people, Cheesethief. RIP Killconey you were a good henchman and Cluny shouldn’t have thrown you at Matthias to get chopped in half.

Sela named her son Chickenhound no wonder he didn’t mourn her. Of course, his idea of a better name was “Mousedeath” so it’s not like he had room to judge.

Portugal????

[multiplefandomwritings]

Falling in love in ten days - Day one to five Part two of “Eh, what the fuck is wrong with him?”, which you can find here

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

warnings: mention of crash and injury (minor, such as bruising and concussion), swearing, use of y/n but some established family relations (mentioning of death of a loved one), enemies to lovers

summary: After your crash, you and Max are spending some deserved time-out in Portugal. And under the Portuegese sun and warmth, the two of you are slowly warming up to each other.

notes: The first part was written inspired by a prompt saying: one-sided rivalry where one of them wants fierce competition and the other one is just “eh? what the hell is wrong with this person?” Since we love ourselves some good enemies to lovers, I really wanted to write this. The second and third part are rather fluffy.

disclaimer: English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes. Feel free to leave comments and/or feedback <3

word count: 3.4k

Day One - Monday

A couple of hours later, the flight and a car ride behind you, Max pulled in the driveway of a house by the sea, and you were in awe. You loved the ocean, and this was perfect. In an instant, all the stress of the Formula One world fell of your back as you climbed out of the car and went straight down the stairs that led to the beach.

Once you arrived downstairs, you kicked off your shoes, pulled off your socks and jumped the last step into the sand. You could hear Max´s deep laugh from the driveway, and when you peeked up, you saw him looking at you. “You coming or what?” You saw the man nod, and as he started to walk down the steps, you continued walking towards the water. Wadding in a bit, you did not care that your leggings got wet.

You heard footsteps behind. “It is beautiful here. Thank you for taking me, Max”, you said and it was sincere. Since you were still looking at the water and the sun that was just about to set, you could not see the Dutch blush a little bit behind you. “Thank you that you allowed me to take you here, Y/N.” The gentleness in his voice made you weak in your knees and your heart full.

After a while the two of you made your way up the stairs and into the house, which was beautiful. It was very down to earth, cottage vibes to it, but it still had luxurious amenities. The bathtub, which was really more than a whirlpool, immediately caught your attention, which Max seemed to notice. “If you want, you can take a bath now, and afterwards we could have dinner together, maybe?” “That would be very nice, thank you.” You smiled at the Dutch, and he left you.

The bath had relaxed your sour muscles a bit. You slipped into a pair of leggings and your Red Bull sweater and made you way to the kitchen. Max was just about to set the table, when someone knocked on the door. You were confused to say the least. “The owners of the house are bringing us food, it was included in the deal, so that we could have a chill first evening.” You smiled at him and nodded as he passed you to get the door.

The food had been delicious, you and Max had even engaged in a bit of small talk and that was okay. It was rather enjoyable, and you two even drank some wine. You could feel yourself relaxing, and when it was time for bed, you were glad about your crazy idea. You cuddled up into the bed which was incredibly soft.

However, you could not sleep again. No matter what position you laid in, your body ached. So, you got up and to your bathroom, where you tried to apply the pain soothing cream. It was hard, because your limbs were tired and hurting. You decided to let it be and wanted to walk back to your room, when you noticed that there was still light in the living room. Maybe Max was still awake and could help you.

And really, he was still awake, sitting on the couch, a book in his hands. He seemed peaceful, something you rarely saw in the man. Normally, he also appeared to be under a lot of pressure. Not that he would say that, but you could see it in his furrowed brows and angry looks and the overly cheery smile he sometimes carried.

“Didn´t know you could read”, you said and smiled at the man in front of you. He looked up from his book and grinned at you. “Next time, do not steal the line from Draco Malfoy, I know the movies almost by heart!” “No way! Me too!”, you laughed, which was a mistake. The next second you flinched by the pain this act inflicted on your sore body and your aching chest.

“Are you okay?”, Max asks, brows furrowed in concern. “Yeah, actually…”, you scratched the back of your head, “like the bruising really hurts, and I wanted to apply some of the healing lotion, but I cannot reach everything. Could you maybe help me?” The brunette man nodded. “Of course, after all it has been my doing!” You sighed. “Max, please. For this to work, and by that, I mean for us to become friends, we both need to let go off it, okay? It happened, and we will get over that, okay?” He nodded and followed you into your bathroom.

You pulled your t-shirt over your head, holding your breath. It was very painful. Max had seen you in a sports bra several times, so it was not that much of an issue. But this time it was kind of different, at least the atmosphere seemed to thicken a bit. “Oh my God, fuck, Y/N, it looks terrible.” You waved it off. “It will be gone in no time – right now it is just being a bitch!” You handed him the cream and once he started spreading it on your skin, you were surprised. Max Verstappen was surprisingly gentle. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the coolness of the cream against your skin.

When Max was done, you debated whether you should go to sleep. “Are you tired yet?”, you asked your team mate and he shook this head. “It always takes some time for me to calm down after races, so I usually do not sleep much. Would you like to sit in the living room with me for a while?” You nodded, and with that the two of you sat down on the couches ajar from each other, and engaged in a conversation of nothing important.

Day Two – Tuesday

You must have fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of the night, and when you woke up, a blanket was spread out over your body. Max must have placed it there. You got up and looked, but the Dutch was nowhere to be found. Instead of him you found a note on the counter, telling you that he went grocery shopping.

You stretched and decided that it was the perfect weather for a morning swim. It was still quite early, and a bit chilly, which you loved. It reminded you off home. You wrote Max a note and left it on the counter like he did. Then you put on a bathing suit, and walked down to the ocean. The water was cold, and it was exactly what you needed. You felt completely refreshed and vitalized. When you swam back towards the shore, you found Max standing there, smiling at you. You smiled back as you exited the water. He picked up your towel from the ground and held it wide upon for you.

Just three days ago this kind of action by Max towards you would have confused you, but now it almost seemed natural. The two of you spent the day chilling, each of you enjoying some alone time in your respective rooms. You spent the time reading, and taking care of some organizational stuff that you were behind on.

In the afternoon, you took a little nap and awoke to a lovely smell. Still in your pajamas, you slowly walked over to the kitchen. “Hey!”, you greeted the man in front of you, who smiled at you widely. “Hey Sleepy Head, slept well?” “Hm!”, you hummed. “That is good. I am making dinner; I hope you like pasta alfredo?” “Sure, that sounds and smells very good. Have I got time for a short shower?” Max nodded.

After the shower you again dressed casually in another one of your team sweaters and joined Max at the dinner table on the porch. You tasted the first bite of your pasta. “Max, this is delicious – I did not know you could cook!”, you teased, pointing a pasta filled fork in the direction of your dinner companion. Max laughed. “Well, my cooking knowledge is limited, but my mother insisted that I should at least know a few dishes. What about you?” You chuckled. “Well, I would say my knowledge is decent. I can cook tomorrow, and then you can be the judge of that.” “Sounds good!” The both of you smiled at each other.

Day Three - Wednesday

“Max”, you flopped next to him onto the couch, your laptop with you, “I am sure your media coach has already assaulted you the same amount mine did, but they are right. We need to let our fans know what’s going on. The media has been ripping you apart, and that’s not really fair I think.” The man next to you shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t get it. The crash was entirely my fault, and yet you are so kind towards me…”

You gently took his hands into yours. “Listen, you made a mistake - people do that all the time. But you also apologized for it, sincerely, and not a lot of people do that, like ever. I really appreciate it. And if we do not say something about this soon, this could potentially endanger your reputation, if not your future in Formular One.” “You are right… I will talk to Christian and my media assistant about what-“ You interrupted him. “I talked to Christian, and I told him about your effort. Either, you can say that you made a mistake, or Christian even allowed that you could use a malfunction of the car as your argument. Whatever you feel comfortable with!” Max shook his head. „No, I will be honest and admit that I made a mistake.” You nodded. “Alright, lets get our sweaters on and do it!”

The two of you made your way down to the beach with your phones and a chair on which you could place it. “Listen, I am just gonna put my phone here, and then we talk a bit, and send the video to the team, they will figure out what to with it. Sounds good?” Before Max could say anything, you started the video.

The first minutes were spent with awkward stuttering, mostly from Max. As he started for the twentieth time, you shook your head. “Max, listen”, you looked at him and grabbed his hands once again, “You need to relax, okay?” With that, you went over to your phones, and took his. “Mind if I use your phone for some music?” “Sure, its cool.” He unlocked it and you put one of your favorite songs on, another one in the queue.

You went back to grab his hands, and made him shake out his arms. “Come on Max Verstappen, move your body! What do you do all this workout for it not for this?”, you teased him. He grimaced and reluctantly moved a bit. “Wow, you have less rhythm than a stone!” You laughed at him and he grinned at you. It was – mischievous.  You furrowed your brows for a moment, until Max made a big step in your direction, and threw his arms around your torso. Then he easily lifted you up and carried you towards the ocean. “Max, no!”, you laughed, and it was genuine.

He waded into the water with you, and once he was knee deep in, he wanted to drop you, but you had other plans. He might have been stronger than you, but the workout for the racing paid off. You just did not let him go, and with that he followed you right into the water. Both of you emerged from under the water, breathless and smiling widely and you would swear that you had not felt this alive and free in a while.

After playing in the water for a bit, both you of still wet in front of the camera, you two somehow aced perfect sentences about what happened, apologizing to the public and your fans and reveling to them your newly found friendship. You had even jumped on his back in the end, and you two had symbolically exchanged your sweatshirts, so that you would now carry each other’s name on the back. What you did not fully understood yet was that in this moment you started to carry Max´s name deep within your heart and so did he.

After finishing the videos and taking some pictures of each other in the others sweatshirt, you send all of the material to the Red Bull Press Team, alongside with a written statement that Max and you had co-authored. A few calls and hours later, the team send you the video that they were going to issue to the public, as well as advising you to both a picture together later on, for everyone to see that you were eager to make it up to the fans.

Until dinner, which you prepared, Max and you just enjoyed some alone time. It was much needed, and you felt like you both needed to have some reflections about what happened between the two of you to do. Before you set the table and asked Max to come and eat, you had posted the photo and decided to put your phone away for the night. The comments were something you wanted to deal with in the morning. After a very nice dinner, you excused yourself early and fell asleep immediately after your head hit the pillow.

Day Four - Thursday

This time, you two started your day together with a breakfast. You tried your best to convince the man to go for a swim with you, but he did not want to. He rather did some workout, and that was fine with you – you met at the dining table afterwards, your hair wet from the ocean and his from the shower. He looked good like that, different and relaxed.

When you were done eating, you leaned back in your chair and enjoyed the sun on your face. Max disrupted your thoughts. “I read online that there was a market in a little village close by, would you like to go?” You nodded. “That sounds very good. I just need to shower and get dressed, should we leave in half an hour?” “Gladly.”

You decided for your favorite summer dress and some comfortable shoes. When you stepped out of the door, Max was already waiting by the car. When he heard the door close shut, he turned around and looked at you. “You look… very nice, Y/N”, he said, slightly clearing this throat. “Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself!”, you winked at him. He held the keys in your direction. “Do you wanna drive?” You shook your head. “Believe it or not, I actually do not like to drive, well, at least not normal cars.” Max looked at you in disbelief and shook his head. You just shrugged your shoulders, playfully gave him the middle finger and sat down on the passenger seat.

The two of you sat in silence until you arrived in the village around 15 minutes later. It was beautiful, very idyllic and you were in awe. The raw and old architecture of the Portuguese village had you mesmerized. While you looked at the buildings, Max looked at you and he was at equally in awe as you were. He had never seen you like this, so relaxed and so… real. He felt like you showed him your real colors over the past days, even though it had only been half a week. He was excited what would happen the next days, how many more of your splendid colors he would get to see.

Max was ripped out of his thoughts when you grabbed one of his hands and pulled him with you. “The market, its over there, and it is amazing!” Max was surprised how big the market was for such a little village. That was, until one of the market booth owners explained to them that people from all over the other villages came here to sell their handmade articles.

You loved it, all of this. The scenery was breathtaking, the villagers were very kind, and you loved browsing through all of the stands, looking at beautiful craftmanship. Max was smitten by your almost childlike excitement and followed you gladly. You wanted to, and possibly could have, bought most of the things on the market. But despite being able to afford almost everything you wanted due to the money you made racing in Formular One and as a model on the side, you never were an avid spender when it came to buying stuff for yourself. And if you were honest with yourself, you would not need most of the stuff anyway.

Yet, you had bought yourself a cute dress in your favorite color, perfect for going out for dinner in the summer. It was elegant, yet not too much. Additionally, you had gotten some little presents for your family and your friends. You had just stopped at a new booth that had attracted your attention. It was beautiful handcrafted jewelry. You held some earrings and showed them Max. “For Danny?” He busted out laughing. “You are incredible, Y/N, you really are.” You smiled at him. “Jokes aside, these would fit your mother perfectly, I think.” Max looked at you in surprise.

You laughed. “What, your mother has been at the races a couple of times, and I am a woman after all! I think they would look very gorgeous on her. And these –“, you picked out another pair, “would be perfect for your sister.” “How do you know so much about my family and I know basically nothing about yours?” The woman shrugged her shoulder. “I mean, you never asked…”, you wanted to say something more, but another piece of jewelry caught your eye.

It was a golden ring, with a beautiful stone on it. “Its my birthstone!” You tried it on, and it fit your ring finger perfectly. However, you remembered that you barely wore any rings, so you took it off and looked at Max. “I will buy the earrings for my mother and sister on your advice, don’t wait on me. I will find you at the next booth, possibly.” You struck out your tongue at him and walked off, leaving Max to pay for the gifts.

After a couple of hours walking around, you got tired. You decided that you did not want to cook today, so you found a cute restaurant with a little garden in its backyard. The food was amazing, and so was being with Max. He was actually very funny when he was not so tense and stressed to perform.

Day Five - Friday

“So, what about your family?” You two had just eaten breakfast and now spent some time chilling on the porch in the sun. “Well, my family is quite small. I have an older brother, and my mum sadly died when I was a teenager. My dad raised the two of us and did a pretty good job at it, I´d say. He is a mechanic, that is also what brought me into motorsport. I think he would have preferred my brother to be in my shoes, but my brother had other plans. He became a lawyer”, you laughed, “I am not smart enough for that, so instead I stepped up to my dads plan and became the race driver of the two of us. My dad is very supportive of the two of us.” “He works at Red Bull, right?” You nodded. “He is one of the mechanics, I got him the job so that at least one part of my family could be around most of the time.” “Yeah, I have seen the two of together, you seem very close. Same with your brother, even though he only visited so few times.” You smiled. “Yes, we are. We had to, after mum died. It really brought us together as a family…”

You took a short break. Even though it had been a few years since your mum had passed and you made your peace with it, it was still hard sometimes. Max got up, walked over to your chair and offered you his hand. You took it, he pulled you up and into a tight hug. The rest of the day was spent by the two of you taking a long walk by the beach, making some food together and watching a movie.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

When you wish upon a star

Sherlock loved visiting his Grand-mère in the south of France. Especially at Christmas when it was dark, and the stars shone so brightly. Mamé, as Sherlock called her, was full of stories which she loved telling Sherlock about. Sometimes it was from her adventurous life. She’d been all over the world it seemed. China, Australia, Japan, America, India, Egypt, Italy, Brazil, Jamaica, Greece and Portugal. Possibly many more. Sherlock had lost count when she started telling him about Greek mythology.

When the stars were visible, Mamé threw away the velvet overlay from her telescope. Sherlock fetched a stool, and he climbed up on it to try to find the constellations his Mamé told him about.

Orion. Cassiopeia. Andromeda. Ursa major. Aries. Pegasus. 

Mamé had also told him about a shooting star. They were quite rare.

“When you see one, you can make a wish, but there are rules.”

At this Sherlock rolled his eyes.

Rules were boring!

Mamé waved her finger at him and clicked her tongue unapprovingly.

“You can’t wish for impossible things. Like immortality for yourself or others. It’s beyond what is feasible, you see. Nevertheless, there is a saying I’ve found myself to believe in after several inexplicable incidents.”

She paused and looked fixedly at her eight-year-old grandson. His pale eyes looked back with their normal intensity.

“The universe is rarely so lazy.”

***

Sherlock hasn’t realised, well, he’s been otherwise occupied that is, that it’s a starry night. After John had shot that awful cabbie, things had turned. Suddenly, life wasn’t boring anymore. Not with John in it. John Hamish Watson, the man he’d only met yesterday. A man who had killed for Sherlock without hesitation. A crack shot.

It's only when they leave the crime scene, after chuckling like loons, that Sherlock looks up to see a tiny bit of sky filled with blinking stars.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

And then he sees it, a shooting star. He’s granted a wish, and he knows exactly what to wish for. Without hesitation he closes his eyes and wishes for John to stay in his life forever. Before he opens his eyes again, he hears Mamé’s voice in his head.

“The universe is rarely so lazy, mon cher.”

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @safedistancefrombeingsmart @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @gregorovitchworld @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely @helloliriels

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

Okay but Fox getting captured by Palps and then taken as his Vod’e watch, an exchange for Palps to stop his attempts of killing Jedi. (This was also written on my flight back from Portugal so excuse the plot for being…that)

“Help me! Don’t let him take me!”

“We’ll find you.” Cody says, like this was just a tactic to win one battle to win a war.

In that moment, Fox hates his brother. He hates him so much because how could he?

“We’ll get you back,” but what wasn’t said is we’re willing to give you away even for a short time to gain more time.

Plaps takes him to a planet and he’s stuck in a cell, tortured and eventually used as a ritual.

He turns into a child and he still remembers but being a child means more emotions.

He’s stuck in the cell and Palps has another plan for him when the Jedi come save him.

Vod finds the cadet and Fox refuses to speak, to which they think he has no memories of his time before.

Thorn is recovering in the medbay and When Fox is taken there, he climbs down to go lay with him.

Thorn is surprised to see a cadet cling to him but they don’t know if it’s because of shock or comfort.

He doesn’t talk to Cody, doesn’t speak to the rest of the Jedi council.

The Vod’e try to spoil him (they’ve never had a a brother so small before - not one that wasn’t in the tube still) but he avoids them like the plague and Thorn tries his best but he still recovering.

Fox wakes up at night from a nightmare and he’s screaming and crying and it’s Thorn who calls help from Rex because he doesn’t know how he can take care of a child.

“Don’t leave me. Please don’t send me away. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. Please don’t. Please I don’t want to go again.”

They realize this is Fox and Thorn agrees to come with him but he needs help taking care of him. He can’t do it on his own.

Thorn moves in with Cody and Rex and then they try to build a relationship but it’s stiff and awkward.

They have toys and Fox barely touches them except for a small Fox. He carries it with him everywhere.

He eventually tells them he remembers everything - it’s hard not to when his mind wasn’t fucked around with.

“We’ll be better,” they promise and Fox hates them even further.

“Why couldn’t you be better when I was big?”

He goes to sleep, holding his fox, wishing he could go back to a time when it was just him and Thorn in the war. At least then he knew what he was worth.

[herrlindemann]

Heavy Rock - January 2002

So close and so far at the same time. The capital of Portugal is today without a doubt the best place in all of Europe to see and listen to rock. Good venues for concerts, friendly people, excellent business professionals in a market five times smaller than ours, affordable prices and a most attractive and scoundrel city that keeps that old flavor under a galloping modernity that every day makes it more equal to the Europe of the euro. On top of the brilliant and fatalistic Pessoa in every corner of old Lisbon that he portrayed so well in his books. Good food, a lot to see and it’s next door.

Fool who misses it. I promise to cover many concerts in English, among other things because the films were never subtitled. Some say that if it had not been for those idiot kings that we have been suffering from century after century, the Iberian peninsula would be only one and as powerful as Germany. Can be.

The sports hall of Os Belenense (the third football team in Lisbon after Sporting and Benfica) is a privileged venue for five thousand people, located on top of a hill that has the Jerónimos Monastery under its feet, in whose pantheon is buried Fernando Pessoa and the navigator Vasco de Gama, who set off to discover half the world from the also nearby Torre de Belen, right on the Lisbon pier.

The place is full on the first of the two nights of the Germans, with Clawfinger as opening act, old acquaintances who have had to cancel their concert in Spain, scheduled for the following day, because the first date scheduled in principle, which was sold in a few days, a second had to be added, which caused them to cancel their scheduled show in Madrid. When I find out that they are going to open the concert I am very happy and a few minutes before leaving I chat with the singer and guitarist, the same thing that I had done a little earlier with Rammstein at the hotel. These interviews will be included in the next issue of Kerrang!

In the forty-five minutes that they have been on stage, the Swedes show great professionalism and the new face of their music, more polished, direct, and less 'rapper' with a lineup just like the stars of the night: two guitars, keys, bass, drums and voice. Techno also emerges without losing the gray that put them on the map of the best European rap-metal.

Their latest album 'A Whole Lot of Nothing' is proof that they have brought their message very close to Rammstein, which a few times in the past opened for them when they climbed the charts. They must have treated them very well because now the Germans take them on tour whenever they can, and they are also generous in leaving them all the sound display that they later used. Of course not the pyrotechnic and light display; and therein lies the problem for the Clawfingers.

Because the most Rammstein staging teaches anyone. Good intentions, direct songs and the ordeal is clear is that they do not shrink and continue to make war.

Rammstein is the never seen. With one, if not the best, of the records of the year in their baggage and a lot of imagination, the sextet is a magnificent and impressive show both musically and visually. A lot of money and creativity at the service of a structure that is frightening due to the militaristic connotations of its clothes and postures. Together with the theatricality copied from the Catalans of the Fura del Baus, they create an explosive show where fire, a lot of fire, is also another great protagonist with distressing moments such as when in the first encore, with the theme 'Rammstein', the singer Till Lindemann remains in his burning suit for almost four minutes. The mastery of fire that these people have is incredible, forcing them to demonstrate all the fireworks to the government technicians before each performance. Seen and lived on stage, as I did, it scares a lot. As soon as the minutes allotted to the photographers were up, I ran off the stage as if the devil was chasing me, resembling a scene from 'Apocalypse Now'.

Eighteen songs as checkered as the hackneyed German mentality. It joins infernal industrial machinery that starts with 'Mein Herz brennt' from 'Mutter' to end with the version of Depeche Mode's 'Stripped'. Pure adrenaline that nails you to the ground while from all corners of the stage the fire is projected in a thousand ways (Valencians would have to wear them as stars of the next Fallas festivities) and they look like mutant beings out of a science-fiction movie to make an army of corpses dance. Nightmarish. Wagnerian music, in the classical sense, is like a single score with messianic choruses that tremble in the German language, giving that sinister theatricality that at times brings to mind the 'hail, Hitler' of the most sinister times in history, for course alien to the intentions of the group. The show could not be more heavy. They all form a mass in which no one goes off script and the solos are conspicuous by their absence, inheriting the old legacy of those pioneering German industrial metal bands such as Kraftwerk. Aware that they have made a great record with 'Mutter', they play a lot of it: 'Links 2, 3, 4', 'Feuer frei', 'Mutter', 'Ich will', 'Adios', 'Rein raus', ' Zwitter'… Almost the entire record falls. Moment of maximum intensity that is experienced when they download their great commercial hymn 'Du hast' and the staff bouncing like possessed. They connect with 'Buck dich' which includes the singer's little number hitting the keys from behind for a long time with a giant phallus that generously sprays liquid on those in the front rows. In the end, the drummer's ride in a rubber boat over the heads and arms of grief takes us back to the past because they copy it from what the American David Lee Roth did on his tours with a boat and a surfboard. The six say goodbye toasting with Champagne to the success of a party as brilliant as it is original. For the cretins who preach that rock is dying or that it has no way out, this is heaven open to a great future. The important thing is to squeeze the coconut to stand up to the owners of the circus, the Anglo-Saxons, who with projects like this it is not surprising that they feel threatened.

When a stewardess falls to the ground on a short-haul flight due to the violent shaking of the once imposing and now defenseless iron bird in whose stomach we defy gravity, it is to frown to say the least. They had warned that coinciding with the arrival to the peninsula of the men of the north also came the cruel winter of those of the plane, the snow, or the power cuts in Catalonia.

The storm had its vortex in the Palau Olympic de Badalona, a venue that was filled with, evil eye, nine thousand people eager to see one of the European monsters of metal.

If the capital had enjoyed the privilege of a concert presentation last spring for a limited number of people, this time in Madrid they were left with the desire, perhaps because there are no suitable venues to host this type of event. I know that we get very heavy with this matter, but it is so serious that it requires immediate solutions.

The fact is that Rammstein presented irrefutable arguments about why so different types of audiences like them beyond the gestation of him in the gothic scene. Thousands of people hypnotized by the grotesque, bloody, frightening and at the same time romantic show of the group despite the fact that they sing in German and 99% of the attendees do not even understand, it makes you think.

His repertoire unfolds with the perfection of a recently oiled industrial machine, it is a mechanical tune, reticent, a uniform whole supported by his risky bet on impact theater.

I'm still wondering how the hell do they not get burned by the continuous flames on the stage if I'm fifteen meters away and I feel in my retinas and complexion a burst of that infernal heat that contrasts with the icy outside environment.

By the account that brings you, for your safety and ours, almost everything in your show is perfectly calculated, but that does not prevent that when Oliver Riedel takes a boat ride through a sea of arms, he ends up taking a 'dip' in the masses when losing stability. It takes a second, but it's enough for my head to come up with the phrase: "don't try to do this at home".

[balladofthewhitehorse]

29 for engport!

‘’Is this necessary…?’’ Mumbled England, reluctant steps as Portugal led him down a confusing maze of cobblestone streets and haphazard alleys (humanity had a strange way of springing up villages and towns like weeds, until they slowly spidered together into a single, dense settlement; England never much liked London for that very reason, and wished at once they were not in the middle of Lisbon, but rather in one of Portugal’s much nicer, smaller villages). Portugal had whisked England from his hotel room, away from conferences and dull business meetings that hummed like a hive of wasps inside his skull; Promises of something wonderful planned had been enough to stir England’s imagination - and maybe his hunger, belly growling as smells of freshly baked pastries and spiced meat filled the air. There was an open market nearby, and England’s attention was drawn to it as Portugal pulled him along rows of colourful stalls. ‘’Smells nice.’’ He hummed lightly, as they nimbly navigated the crowds (England stumbling by, mildly apologetic mumbles pouring from his mouth). The high points of the fancier buildings soon disappeared, and with them, all thoughts of duty and sensibility left England. He could only focus on the warm smells of the cooking, and the chatter of passersby, the scream of gulls as they wheeled overhead, and the feeling of Portugal’s hand wrapped around his (like a promise, an anchor to a ship, the wind in his sails as they sped along crowded streets and narrow, twisting alleyways). 

Portugal’s heart was thudding in his chest, eyebrows twisted into furrows. There were more people that he had expected; More than Portugal had planned for, had accounted for and for a moment, the tall man felt like cursing the soul of every fucking tourist in Lisbon. ‘’Mmm.’’ He hummed in response to England, guilt lapping at his belly (like the tide, sucking at the smooth stones of his rib-cage) as he ignored his partner’s voice. Hours had been spent, and he really didn’t want to have them turn-back empty handed; Portugal raced up a series of steep stairways, slipping away from England’s hand as he leaned over the railing. It was still there. 

‘’Promise to close your eyes?’’ He wheezed, breathless as England slowly climbed after him. 

England arched an eyebrow, surprise flitting through his eyes; Portugal’s voice was earnest, and his heart thudded against his chest as he hovered on the landing. ‘’Whatever for, Port?’’Portugal sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. ‘’Don't be an ass. Just close them, please.’’ He grasped England’s hand tight as the man reluctantly obliged. ‘’I’m not going to kill you.’’ He purred reassuringly, as he began to lead England down towards a small plaza. There was a single table set in the middle with two chairs, and an easel covered with a small sheet; It was untouched, much to Portugal’s relief. ‘’I spent hours sorting it all out-’’ A flash of green eyes, caught very briefly by a quick glance at his lover. ‘’Hey, no peeking-! I had a speech planned, you know!’’ He exclaimed, with a huff. ‘’You’ve got no appreciation for the finer things in life-’’

England scoffed, rolling his eyes as Portugal scolded him. ‘’Port…’’ He drew in a breath, a wry smile on his face. ‘’...You know I appreciate you.’’ He remarked, eyes twinkling. ‘’Now what was it that you wanted to show me, again?’’ England sighed, arching an eyebrow as Portugal took hold of the sheet and swept it off - revealing a large portrait of the two of them.

They were sat beneath the shade of a lemon tree, its dark green leaves a contrast against the brilliant, blue sky. The sea stirred beneath their feet in hues of sea-green and pearlescent foam, and England’s heart thudded in his chest as he recognised the tumbling cliffs and the distant castle, looming on the horizon, their old clothes and their younger faces. ‘’...You’re a madman.’’ He snorted, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear as he kissed Portugal’s cheek. ‘’I can’t fucking believe you remember that fucking place still!’’ How long ago had it been now?

‘’I would never forget.’’ Portugal teased, tapping the side of his nose. ‘’...Unlike some people.’’

England barked in offence. ‘’That was one time!’’ He grasped Portugal’s hand, squeezing it affectionately as the two of them pressed closed to one another, breathing in the presence (the life, the heart of the other; as if they were the rampart that held the other up) of each other.