Fearne Cotton Flexible

What's your kinko?

Title: what's your kinko?
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom RPF Football - English National
Characters / Pairing: Sergio Ramos / Fernando Torres (Seeeernandoh!)
Rating: Definitely VM18
Warnings: porn are two thousand words, eh. I tell you.
Disclaimer: are not mine. If they were mine, Nando prostitutes in a strip club and Sergio would be her pimp, then you do.
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of fanfic_italia . The prompt is evil "Kink". Thanks to whoever prompt ...

- I am ... my abs. -

- No. -

- My smile? -

- Nor. -

- So what? Oh, that's my style in general, do you? -

- Aaaaaacqua. -

Sergio frowned, but let it go. - So, I do not know, eyes? -

- No. -

- Hair? -

- Mh. Shotfirer. -

- Oh, finally. The hair, let's see ... My neck? -

- No. -

- E 'for how I take them? Why are long? -

- Are you on track. - Sergio

put up a concentrated expression and slowed the bite of the stuffed olives that was fishing from a bowl. Gradually, as more and more options that excluded, brightened with understanding. - No. The band for the hair? -

- You guessed it. - Fernando granted, raised for the purpose of interrogation. Indeed, confirming the fact that the speech was closed, stretched his legs on the sofa, passing with the feet instead that Sergio was sitting in order to extend toward the table where he had put his precious olives.

Sergio's tickled his fingers absently, still chewing. Nando had already wearing the suit for the cool-down session in the gym, as if he saw the time to go. Sergio A somewhat 'gave trouble, that impression: tiracchiandogli remedied pants at the knees so that the strap loose slip a bit' down.

Fernando who had just opened one eye closed for a nap.

- Explain. - Sergio murmured, concentrated. If up until the moment before he had enjoyed playing the puzzles with him, now he felt he could no longer live without knowing why Nando was attracted by the elastic strap that he used to keep order in his head.

Fernando crossed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes again, spiandolo only by an invisible crack between the lashes. With the naturalness with which he talked about his favorite dish, and his voice slightly hoarse from sleep, he said - I'd like you to take it and that I used to tie my wrists to the headboard. Or, I'd also like it to be the only thing that I held him during sex. If you you to put here, in between my legs and I held you up with your arms while pushing, I could see your hair that you whip the neck, all held back by the band and, you know, it would be crazy. I think I would come immediately. -

Sergio exhaled all the air out his lungs with a long breath. He smiled, because he felt dumbed down by the response of Nando. If not expected by him, this kind of submission fantasies, and a little 'afraid to put them into practice. She ran two fingers on his forehead, looking unconsciously elastic band that was there, black, with the bullet markers that glow with a white Nike stubborn. Nando followed him to the corner of my eye, but did not move.

Neither moved for long moments, while the tension grew.

"Next, try it, "said a voice similar to that of Nando, the head of Sergio. "Next. He wants it, want it too. And you have so little time. "

was a low blow, that, because Sergio knew that the little time he was not guilty of training in the gym. It was more than infinitesimal, it strangling, a time made of very fine grains of sand slipping down to incastrarglisi throat.

Fernando looked at him with his sad expression as if they were complicit in his thoughts. In fact, perhaps, but just to use those eyes of his cat for him to do the first move.

Sergio leaned over him without thinking about it, and the first thing the rose away sweatpants with whom he had to say so far. Give them to discover the area slipped from the foot of his left calf warm there because he had been leaning against your back. Fernando betrayed his impatience reaching out a hand, like to invite you to relax on him but at that point, Sergio had become too much like him to allow him to get right to the point. He put the palms wide open on the inside of his knees and opened them to him, earning a sigh of Nanda, who found very appropriate.

boxerini He was wearing blue melange of those innocent-looking devastatingly that only he could lead without seeming ease with that emerging from a teen porn.

crawled up to sink the nose and lips in the magical concoction formed under the cotton from the penis of Nando, his testicles and his hair soft. She inhaled the smell of soap along with that cozy, clean and reassuring, and began to torture him with soft kisses left at random points on the boxer. Gave him the opening, by contracting all the muscles of legs, testicles and then, on and on, slowly. Traced all the erection, the glans and only when he found he opened his mouth and made him feel the language, and Fernando felt die. Within moments, the whole fabric wet with her saliva, leaving dark stains clearly visible. Clenched between his lips cotton, and meat that was under it, and when Nando tries to grab the strap of the boxer to take them off, forcefully put his head in his hands to stop him. Fernando grabbed her hair, looking eagerly just the band that held them still. Just happened, Sergio realized that was not the first time I heard him do. Before then, there had never noticed.

He left wallowing with his fingers in his hair, and finally gave him the satisfaction of releasing the shorts. Fernando hyperventilation and immediately returned to the position he's had, without even knowing if he wanted the coup de grace or be tortured some more '. Sergio

But he pulled up, and a second Nando had a horrible feeling it was going to leave. In a panic, jumped to grab his arm, and two eyes made him so terrified Sergio was afraid that, without even knowing why. For this, and once you understand that he had misunderstood, I do not ridicule, in fact, allowed him to keep him close his wrist as he undid his pants and stripped for him. He did not want to laugh at nonsense that had made Nando, his liquid eyes and full of sex and desire with kisses.

- Lubricant. - Whispered, breaking the mood of expectation.

Nando reached out behind him, moved him a bit 'in the dark glass on the table beside the sofa, and finally handed him a jar from the air aseptically. Sergio mentally hoped that the hotel maid could not read English, and swore he would never let the lubricant around the room, in the case to one of their comrades had got the idea to make them impromptu.

sank her fingers into the jar and took away a considerable amount of lubricant cream. Fernando looked at him without ever beating their brows, not to miss even one frame of the wonderful spectacle that was Sergio while he held a sticky cream almost to the hilt, with the South African sun that gilded the skin.

He returned and picked up on all fours on the couch with a snapping motion of the pelvis of Fernando, who screamed like he was finally fed to a beast. The widened her thighs with his, and closed his eyes to find an absolute, sacred concentration, before starting to go slowly in Nando.

slipped inside and was a marvel, inch by inch, to imagine him without even the slightest pain. He held his breath as Sergio stimulated the intolerably entrandogli in gently. He felt he had come to the end when, for a moment, he felt the sweet feeling of a caress between her legs, in the most intimate of all his body, and after Sergio relaxed completely over him, hugging him hard.

He wanted to tell him that he had never wanted so much as now, but his breath was lost when Sergio, with an evident effort to maintain balance his self-control, you can hand on her head and pulled net of the elastic strap. Went out to a sort of whining that made him blush with shame, and at the same time, Sergio wet his lips, almost overwhelmed before you start. Twisted the band to form an eight, and forced to stuffing them with Nando's wrists. He moved as little as possible, not to give incentives, and this made him mad. Brought him his wrists tied behind the neck and held them to him there. Nando, then tried to get what he wanted arching strongly toward him, and wraps her legs around his waist, but was only pushed the soft and not too deep, not even remotely quenched his immense frustration.

- Please ... - he whispered. With a flick of the wrist, he did stretch the rubber band, and groaned at the thought of being tied up.

Sergio looked at him in the eye with an affection and devotion that anyone would have seemed excessive, even dangerous. To anyone except the two of them, who were not afraid of drowning every time a bit 'more than one inside the other, as was happening at that moment, with Sergio pushing gently, without haste. He drew circles with delicious movement of the pelvis, each time rubbing against the most sensitive and wonderfully made moan Fernando for the agony of pleasure.

without actually asking permission, began to increase the speed of pushing, slowly and to be less attention paid to all those with whom he had fondled her Nando until then. Now, they both need to enjoy as much as possible, only that. Sergio sank his teeth on Nando's neck and moaned furiously, but did not give up the grip on his hands, still blocked by the band. For each thrust, his abdomen produced a dry snap slam down hard on that of Nando, while he pulled him inside relentlessly, using all his strength in his legs for spingerselo thoroughly.

Sergio at that point, he had eaten almost all his self-control, and every peep, every "yes, yes" Fernando blew it kills him inside. Fernando was so willing to show him how much he pleases, what he was doing crazy to enjoy that rush of being taken from his hands and grabbed his wrist tangling nell'elastico, in the midst of his. Thus, we can distinguish the wrist Nando beating fiercely. The bit her throat again with fury, and suddenly, everything around him, broke the heart of Nando in his stomach and down her legs, and in its own pressures. Lost almost completely the ability to coordinate and ended up pushing violently into Fernando, using even the knees.

He opened his eyes and looked dazed the strap that held captive in his hands and that of Sergio: The Nike symbol was directed toward him, and he brought it to his mouth and bit him hard, and l & rsquo ; the orgasm burst out with vehemence. He screamed out of control, and Sergio with him.

- I do not hold back anymore. - Confessed to fatigue, split between breaths.

Fernando looked at him straight in the eye, and made him feel even more than before its total submission, his willingness to suffer the worst abuse imaginable by his wonderful bird.

Sergio broke up suddenly with a few thrusts disjointed, splashing into Fernando until the last project, before collapsing, exhausted.

Their hands were still tangled, but neither had the slightest desire to move, they were exhausted. Limit themselves to adjust so that Nando was not too crushed by Sergio, and he could already do Nando wrinkled feet and he made sure to place them among those of Sergio, warm.

Sergio chuckled and gave him welcomes the privilege. Keeping your eyes closed, kissed anywhere on the chin. - It's better if we loose now. - Muttered. - Before you fall asleep like that. -

- we have to? - Fernando protested. - Let me live my kink to the end. -

- Your what? -

- Kink. The band. -

- kinko is said in English? -

- No! - Fernando chuckled, with the little energy he had left. - No, that thing is kind of kink that makes you lose your head. Hmmm, I do not want to explain it now. We can stay like this? I can feel your pulse on your wrist. -

would never, ever managed to say no, if I put it.

- Okay. Tomorrow, however, explain to me what is good kinko. -

- The kink. - Fernando rubbed her nose against the cheek of Sergio, and when he had his attention innocently taken to biting his lower lip.

- I'll explain, but only if you tell me what is yours. -

Without Panties On The Public

Fic: Quechua Toma! Pilates

Title: Toma Queco!
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom RPF Football - English National
Characters / Pairing: Iker Casillas / Carles Puyol (Puyillas)
Rating: Mmmh, R?
Disclaimer: are not mine. Carles belongs to Catalonia, and Iker belongs to Carles. I only own a pug dog and imagination.
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of fanfic_italia . The prompt is evil "Quechua". No comment, really.

Everything was working so well.

The fight had become hot, the clothes flew everywhere, Carles was struggling like a bull not to be put under and Iker already looking forward to the taste of Italian dinner which would be made later forgiven.

Touch it, in the excitement that preceded the actual sex, she put him nervous euphoria. Grabbed him, dropping it on the bed, but was off balance and he knew that would not be easy.

Then, there was a dry fall, and soon after, an unmistakable clicking of hooves horrified him.

- God, no! - Said, just as the Quechua looked on the bed with his nose blunt. - Hunting the beast out of the room! -

Soon after, a commotion excitedly reported that Iker was sat up, fumbling with his hands to find the covers to hide with two pairs of eyes looked at him with that expression disturbingly similar.

Puyol snorted and sat up, leaning against a side with maddening slowness to weigh how much it disturbed him that abrupt, and the sheep echoed by emitting a kind of full grunt of disapproval.

- Come, come. - He called his master, gently. He gave her a pat on the nose and whispered something in Catalan, certainly something about what was stupid and rude the Madrid shit.

- Why do not you give up? This is also his home. - Replied, pointing out not too implication that the sheep had more right to be there than I had him, the man with whom she having an affair.

- It is chewing my underwear. -

- Patience. It will put another pair. -

- Carles! By God, I do not want the sheep in the room while I try to have sex with you! -

Carles was not used to seeing him make a fool, but did not impress much. - I do not understand that bother me give you, poor Quechua. -

- is here and it makes me the nose on his chest, just for starters. -

- He just wants to make friends with you. -

- not sex as we do, thanks. -

The captain of Barça drew his knees to his chest, upset. - If it's an excuse, just say so. -

- It is not an excuse! - Iker exploded indignantly. To turn to him he had to bend one leg back, he was so erect, and until a second before it was touching everywhere as if it were was made of pure gold, and she had kissed her lips and pressing his nose wherever he could. When he came down on his belly, he had almost had to cry because it was too much to bear. Frankly, I wondered where it had its head, to think that he wanted to.

- Let's do this. - Sighed, conciliatory. - You make out the Quechua for a while '. In return, will sleep here tonight at the foot of the bed. What do you think? -

Carles frowned slightly sopraccigliae after evaluating the proposal, accepted with a grimace.

- Thank goodness. - External Iker, following prey with eyes Carles rising and that pushes the sheep patiently outside the room letto.Finalmente had her orgasm: she felt she deserve it more than anyone else in the world.

- About. - Pointed out, going back, but Iker was on him without giving him time to speak. Carles automatically began to oppose it delicious that the resistance is completely reabsorbed into the universe of explosive sex with his magnificent Catalan. Rise when the bed began to show signs of strain, and the headboard banged hard against the wall, producing a series of raps that echo their movements were furious.

slowed down a bit ', muttering something about not wanting to sleep on the floor.

Carles But bowed his head, Iker and only then he realized that his skills were not the cause of the uproar amatory.

Congraulate Smeone In Arabic About New Baby

Title: Pilates
Author: Stateira
Beta: janetmourfaaill (EROEH)
Fandom RPF Football - English National
Characters / Pairing: Iker Casillas / Carles Puyol (Puyillas? Casyol? Ikerles? Capità (n)? Accepted proposals)
Rating: VM18, of course
Warning: Pilates is known to be good for your health.
Disclaimer: are not mine. Carles belongs to Catalonia, and Iker belongs to Carles. I only own a pug dog and imagination.
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of fanfic_italia . The evil prompt is "Pilates"

He takes those positions slow, thoughtful, full of grace, which are one after the other in a continuum fluid. You do not see the grace, but his muscles, as so: swollen, almost motionless in the effort. The concentrated silence of the locker room takes away the attention of the ears, and it is as if all power is concentrated in the perceptive eyes that follow the cautious gestures of his arms upward, then downward, as in a breath.

What harm is there to spy on him a bit '? Believed to be left alone after that Del Bosque has gone to tell everyone to go and rest before the game.

Only your way to rest and get a hot shower long hours, and his is doing his exercises of pilates. Look

arching his back so unexpectedly supple, and with your right hand you hold the turn of the shorts, to warn you: do not bullshit, Iker Casillas, do not look like I wanted to try on your skin, the effect of her curls .

not work much: your penis responds to squeeze warning of marble making. The abdominal

Carles Puyol, even those are made of marble.

Protected blind angle shower room, you can still watch it undisturbed, with the voracity of the typical voyeurs.

Yet, it is not doing anything erotic.

not doing anything erotic?

His neck is contracted for a second alone, and suffered a drop of sweat slipped away. Then, he stretched out his arms, stretched out a leg, has relaxed the abdomen and slowly he let slip to the floor.

And then on.

Having sex with that maddening to be a slow torture.

Masturbating with that slow it already is.

Images to be lying under him, to be able to eat with our eyes as it moves in your abdomen, completely dominated. Each lunge who decides to take, take it to the last millimeter, pushing against you with his prodigious stomach that you can touch.

Decide that it takes to satisfy you endless hours of sex in full of the one made with hands, his tongue, legs and above her head. You have to enjoy every nerve of his body electric, and he will enjoy yourself a thousand times more, if only with those from defending his knees, tighten your pelvis to ask for more.

come while he is rising up, and you almost forget that you can not moan. It is he who will save you, covering your furtive sigh with the clang of the cabinet. You see it regain its towel, rummaging 'around, and I think now I want to take a shower.

A shower, yes, it'll take just a nice relaxing shower.

... O-ho.

Wedding Program Wording For Deceased Relatives

flip Yo con el Arbol de Piqué

Title: Yo flip con el Arbol de Piqué
Author: Stateira
Beta: koorime_yu janetmourfaaill
RPF Football Fandom - English National
Characters / Pairing: Gerard Piqué / Cesc Fàbregas (Fabriqué)
Rating: VM18, of course
Warning:
Disclaimer: are not mine, otherwise it would be a white Christmas.
Note: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of fanfic_italia . The evil prompt is "Christmas Tree"

Barcelona, Christmas, looks like a cute little girl tanning pestiferous you have done to convince all the good during the year. Gerard Piqué loved the alluring atmosphere that is breathed in the street, in shops decorated in disproportionately, wrapped in a kind of mist produced by constant puffs of plants heating.

He loved Christmas for one week each year because it seemed not to lead a crazy life. Reappropriate of normality, rhythms that without realizing he had forgotten, swallowed up by the rush of fame. He had spent a wonderful afternoon to fill up the arms of gifts for boys and for his family, as any one, and try not to think too much about the fact that Cesc would be back soon to spend holidays with him.

... Not always always always with him, since he had a family. But most of the time, yes. Otherwise, it could well be sure it was going to jump on knees at the foot of, if he dared let go alone also Christmas.

In turn there were a lot of couples who were buying: looking girls terrifying authoritarian dragged behind engaged which in turn dragged behind bags and bags, mostly. It looked funny. Of course, if he had the chance to go shopping with Cesc, he would catch a lot more embarrassing gifts to those who had managed to put together the rabble of Barça.

Imagine that Leo had bought a table football because he remembered how crazy to play the sports center.

And Puyol? Bah, was hoping to have guessed the size of the swimsuit from pilates. But put that stuff really ridiculous?

He turned the key in the lock and snapped the lock with a creaking sound familiar, for a moment enjoying the warmth of home, and the light of the stay that he did not remember leaving on.

- Damn. - Muttered against himself as he tried to spy on the road between the packages loaded into each arm above the other in precarious balance, to avoid having to do two laps. He closed the door with a calcium and dropped all their precious gifts on the couch, and it was only then that he noticed.

Crouched on the floor, Cesc Fàbregas was highly critical air shed with two boxes of Christmas decorations that he had dumped there the night before, waiting for him should wish to do the tree .

- You can not put the blue balls and red balls together, not feeling well. - Considered as if it were the most natural thing to say at that time.

Now, if it had been understood, Gerard would have entered in the stomach in a slip, as punishment for having entered into his house like a thief.

had not even say "hello", the idiot. Laughed crazy and jumped on him.

- Oh, god, do not believe you came, do not believe it! -

Cesc Dodge golden festoons just in time to save them from the landslide, and opened his arms to get it all. - Someone had to help you make the tree. - Sobbed, for the immense weight of all Gerard sternum. He managed stop it on its side and steal a kiss fool, between the mouth and nose.

- I do not even say "welcome back"? -

- Welcome back Cesc. -

- That's better. -

Gerard could not in any way stop laughing. There was no hope. If he stopped, he started crying, probably, and sing some songs of Christmas, so it was much better this way.

- But how did you get? -

- I've loaned you the keys to your house this summer. Do not you remember? -

- I also remember that you had returned them to me before returning to London. -

- I've made a copy. -

There was no reason to insist on this as well. Maybe, in some remote corner of his mind, Gerard wanted to scold him for doing something so obviously evil, but not Cesc gave him the chance, because he returned to studying the colorful balls scattered on the floor, to raise and let go down the buoy gold and silver, to look askance the stars to be embedded within the branches.

- So, first, on top of the tree we put a bit like this one. - Decided, indicating a oblong box. - It seems a bit 'too fragile to withstand a comet. -

- Yes. -

- And you have to decide if the tree you want to do on red gold on blue or silver. You can not combine the two. -

- Why can not we? The blue and red go well together. - Gerard said.

- Want to make a tree theme Barca? I thought that could only Puyi so bold. -

Gerard made a kind of disappointed in the direction of the muzzle red and yellow balls. - Okay. - Muttered. "Then, the blue ones that I have more. -

- Excellent choice! -

Cesc slapped a shot on the thighs and jumped up, driven by a pragmatism that could not belong to one that had just taken a flight from London. Piqué was asked with genuine curiosity when he arrived. He had taken a taxi to his house? Probably yes the airport is not exactly around the corner. If he knew he dropped everything to go and get it. But perhaps, on reflection, would no longer be so Christmas. The

an ambush while he was busy hanging a silver ball to one of the highest branches of the tree, hugged him from behind, burying her face carefully between his neck and his neck and enjoy the feeling very special to hear the shudder.

- Hey, what are you doing? -

- Nothing. I'm glad you're here. Now I feel really Christmas. -

- Really? Wow, I'm your personal Santa Claus. -

- Are you more like a reindeer. -

Cesc laughed, leaning almost to touch the tree with his nose. - You know, in fact I've brought something to contribute to your tree. I leaned into the kitchen, I'll take it. -

- In the kitchen? -

Four minutes later, he was made full in July, and Gerard felt really hot. Cesc was working with the same, resolute dedication than before, a new Christmas tree. Only it was not a tree, it was his erection, and - holy Christ, it was better if I do not think so.

- I did not know what color I had the decorations. - Explained, as he carefully stroked with the fingertips until they managed to make it completely hard. - So I was in possession. There was only one thing was sure. - Gerard

clung with all his strength to the arms of the chair, probably would not know what it was.

- Here here. - Cesc whispered, kidnapped. Uncorked the bottle and squeezed in topping a long Sbruffo light blue gel just below his glans.

Gerard swore softly.

- I have nothing to silver, but I have the transparent one, the taste of sugar. Should be fine. -

Within a few seconds, the space between the arms of Gerard and the arms were littered with bottles topping, because in the end decided that Cesc does not care anything about his penis sing Christmas with the real tree, so it was up to the trial with wild cherry and the chocolate topping.

Gerard had always underestimated the density of the topping, or in England it produced extraordinarily thick and sticky. Cesc was a bloody sadist who gave him particular few drops at a time straight over the glans, and then waited patiently to come down almost to the hilt, as he is humiliated and raving for more.

By then, his cock had become a desperate, hard covered with frosting and colorful tree from top to bottom.

Gerard begged him for the millionth time to give him the coup de grace, but the other I wanted to know.

- Do not you see? - Pointed out, critical. - No star, no? -

the star.

According to him, his staff had to be star-tree with because, otherwise, horror. Gerard began to seriously fear that the balls could explode at any moment, with all the unbearable shock of pleasure that the slow motion of drops of the topping were causing everywhere.

Cesc brandished a box a bit 'bigger than the others, shook it, pointed it expertly against his penis and flushed almost purple made from strawberry frosting. And pulled the trigger.

A sea of whipped cream wrapped around lapping at the tip, forming a small cone extraordinarily precise, soft-looking and very, very tasty.

- Lllllà! - Cesc said, satisfied. - Now you're perfect. -

- Now I'm dead, dead! - Gerard almost whimpered. - I hate you, Fàbregas, I swear. I hate you. -

- Why are you getting so worked up? Look what you eat now. -

- Oooh, my god, do not we also put in words. -

Cesc contemplated his masterpiece with undisguised satisfaction. In fact, did better: he took out the palm of his trouser pocket, and photographed. Then, he changed his angle, so as to be able to frame its two trees together. He deserved it had been hours of hard work, his.

- This does not I'll put you on Twitter. - Assured him. - I mine alone. -

- Nh. I promised that I would have posted pictures of the tree. Now, please! -

- We will give later, so your fans will be pleased. It also will be happy Puyi. -

- said to be in control if I did indeed. -

- I hope it is not now, then. -

and impact gently with the tip of the nose and lips, on his penis long abused. Gerard

first tensed like a rope, then relaxed dead weight on the couch, unable to do anything but moan and sob so disjointed and devoid of all dignity while Cesc is eating her tree.

drops topping older you were like dried on her skin, and forcing Cesc to do something awful, licking the tip of the tongue to be able to remove them via a bit 'at a time. When he reached the area just below the glans, Geri seriously feared that he would come before receiving a blow job as they should. Had nothing to do who do not take everything in his mouth, he thought about the feeling of the sticky topping crazy to do so. And the whipped cream was getting hot: Cesc began to lick it off a little at a time, making him feel just something muffled as he approached. The final layer slipped away all together, and eat it in time Cesc was forced - thank God, thank you - even to eat his erection almost completely.

- Oh, Cesc. Ooooh, Cesc. - Exclaimed, completely blinded to orgasm was mounting inexorably. Cesc expertly guided him, forcing him to almost explode when he wanted him, and especially as he wanted: the jet of semen ended colorful, and now pasticciatissima, by Christmas, adding a little more, a touch genuinely dirty at all.

in his life, Gerard had never thought of such a wonderful way to thwart the efforts of an entire afternoon. Except, perhaps, shoot and put it on Twitter.

Drivers Licenserenwal Columbus Ohio

Tarjeta Roja (PART THREE)

Title: Tarjeta Roja (Part One)
Fandom: RPS - FC Liverpool / Real Madrid CF
Personage / Pairing: Sergio Ramos, Fernando Torres (Sernandoh ♥)
Rating: VM18
Warning: sporcaccionaggini and lots of melancholy COC
Disclaimer: This fanfiction not for profit. (H) You do not want to offend or be prejudicial against real people described. (Eeeeeh) Nothing in this narrated fanfiction has really happened but it is fictional, so do not pretend to give a truthful picture of events or personalities. (Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh)
Notes: last chapter, yay! And finally sporcaccionaggini VM18 and find a way ...

But here's the links to previous installments.
(PART ONE )
(PART TWO )

Fernando appeared on the question of the removal, and the dinner hour came back with three bags smoking. In fact, two: the third because he did not smoke, he explained with enthusiasm, was full of chocolate pudding and cream.

"Full" should mean that Nando had bought five or six servings of pudding and wanted to eat them all before midnight.

Among other things, lost no opportunity to weigh him that his conception of "dinner time" is not no way approached that of British: he was touched to turn quite a few 'among the little villages in the area, before finding a grill that held open until late.

- I can not even conceive that someone could sit at a table before nine. - Sergio muttered, as he took the silverware from a drawer, painted blue. - Explain to me what the hell are the rest of the evening, if they eat at six? -

- They make love. - Fernando ridiculed. - This is why I am so happy to live here. -

Sergio made the gesture to forge a knife in his hand. - Hey, this could save thee. - Protested. - That is the famous British humor? -

- Come on. - Nando looked at him and hurried to put on the best nose of the repertoire. - Sorry. - Starred, biting his lower lip guiltily.

- Nh. Well, we do not cool down dinner. What is it? -

- I do not know. Indian cuisine. Thai. -

- I do not think they're the same thing. -

- by chance I've brought a bowl of paella for René? I do not think so disappointed. -

Sergio almost choked trying to swallow laugh and spicy chicken at the same time. Fernando looked at him with the satisfaction of a pastry chef who provides the best wedding cake that has ever failed.

- You are always better. - He said simply.

- I know. You too. -

Fernando chewed her smile before they slip through our lips, even though Sergio was pretending to be busy eating to not watch it. He could not finish the whole thing that he had taken, because Sergio is warmly recommended not to fill your stomach to bursting point, otherwise he would come to sleep too early. And he had the face of someone contemplating the notion of "sleep" for the nights to come.

- Drop the pudding! -

- I know. -

Sergio calculated with precision the exact trajectory of the spoonful of pudding, which betrayed him, finishing straight on the navel of Fernando. He moaned, shocked by the cold and awareness of what, a little later, it happened.

With a satisfied groan, Sergio attacked him, made him laugh by tickling her. It was great when Fernando was laughing and groaning with pleasure: her whole body responded with absolute spontaneity to his tongue to clean the neural folds of her navel. Sergio realized that the thin hair was still slightly smeared all around, and wondered what would have been dirty do the same thing with his groin. He thrust two fingers into the jar of pudding, blindly, and Fernando just realized what he was doing, he opened his eyes.

- Do not You be ... -

- Can you swear. -

Fernando dropped on the pillow with a groan in agony. - I'll pay the fine. - Outside, not at all fearful to be pathetic.

Sergio chuckled quietly, but did not give him the time to add another: ate it with the typical ruthless ardor of those who did not think of anything else for hours and hours, maybe even days. Fernando thanked him with an almost anguished moan, arching toward him as far as he could. Sergio grabbed her hips and pressed strongly on the mattress, which smacked against his back. He continued to rub the erection of Nando exhausted with their lips, giving him the satisfaction of touching it with the language only occasionally.

Nando tried to protest, as in his heart, that Sergio would only continue to do all this for eternity . Eventually, Sergio was persuaded to lie down, and allowed him to pull out the pants with small, frenetic shots of the wrists, because I love the way that Fernando was able to look at the penis, amazed, and greedy, and totally honest about his intentions.

went beyond sex, beyond the anticipation of the great orgasm was coming soon: he was able to make a perfect love, newspaper, probably the highest form of love that could exist, when you shut in a bedroom and living long hours of mutual devotion.

Nando gave some convulsive breaths, and Sergio realized that the time was right, the one that would be entered as the maximum enjoyment. He held firm, and forced him to feel every inch, until Fernando almost shouted give more, for the love of god.

is enjoyed without any restraint sticky noise produced by pushing against her sacrum, until his body very early on rationality, warned him that he would not detained beyond orgasm. He was inside, as he loved to do, planted more thoroughly as he could, stifled by the pulse of Nando who had preceded him just a couple of pushes. And that's when he fell over, meowed again for your satisfaction.

- I wonder why we never thought of before. - Sighed, stringendoselo between his legs with such determination that Sergio knew that sleep would have ended up in that state.

- What? - Asked softly. - On the red card strategy? -

had in exchange a face unique: curled shit, almost edible.

- the pudding, Sergio. -

Writing A Community Service Letter For A Sorority

Fic: Tarjeta Roja (PART TWO)

Title: Tarjeta Roja (Part Two)
Fandom: RPS - FC Liverpool / Real Madrid CF
Personage / Pairing: Sergio Ramos , Fernando Torres (Sernandoh ♥)
Rating: VM18
Warning: sporcaccionaggini and lots of melancholy COC
Disclaimer: This fanfiction not for profit. (H) You do not want to offend or be prejudicial against real people described. (Eeeeeh) Nothing in this narrated fanfiction has really happened but it is fictional, so do not pretend to give a truthful picture of events or personalities. (Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh)
Notes: As promised, this new chapter is all about elisewin16 , that has seen fit to age one year and to take care of this stuff here. Augurih! ^ O ^ /


Who if it were lost, here is PART ONE
E the (PART THREE )


unsportsmanlike? It was heard calling with the worst epithets. For example, the Devil had not suggested that he had taste in clothes.
Now, someone would take care of discipline brought her, and if there were to pull out money for a penalty, he would have just pulled out.
Now, he did not care.
now, was in Liverpool.
Now, Fernando's was going, bomber wrapped in a disproportionate and hidden by a thick wool hat as a finger. And it was very funny, and beautiful, and Sergio seemed just the most ridiculous thing in the world.
- Shit, but you die cold here. - He began respecting the safety distances walked to the gate while still iperilluminato rows and rows of neon lights shining like teeth.
Fernando jeered as if he had just received a compliment. - You say that every time. - Sergio
They loaded the trolley car near his, which had the typical cold air and building of a suitcase that had been there since at least the night before. Under the guise of helping to close the boot lid, Sergio's squeezed her hand, and finally felt that he really arrived.

- Let's stay in a fantastic place. - Fernando announced, while driving to look particularly cheerful. Sergio would have liked to ask him to slow down, indeed, would have liked to ask him to straighten the guide, but he had adapted so well to drive down that when he was in Spain - when he returned to Spain, when he came - he preferred to drive him, or turn in a taxi.
- We're almost to the sea. -
- Wow. It's great. - Nando
spied him with one eye, looking forward to receiving your favorite reward: a bright smile and that Sergio gave him his while the car abandoned the main road to turn onto a dirt path.
Sergio had never had the courage to tell him that the sea of gray and moody Liverpool disgusted him. It was not even a bad copy of the Costa del Sol, too cold to throw potercisi with friends, with your legs close to his chest, and Fernando would like to think that made him a little bit evil. Like a tiny, imperceptible treason.

to wait in front of the lonely house in red brick, was the owner. Practically unrecognizable in his heavy clothes, Nando went to exchange a few words with him, and when he returned to the car clutching triumphantly in gloves, a set of keys rather thin.
- I adore you. - Sergio admitted. - You have become a secret agent. -
- It really is not difficult. People here do not you see, if you do not want to see. - Fernando is jeered while toccacciava the keys one after the other, as reviewed in mind the directions given to him by the man.
- even if it is the number nueve de Liverpool? - Sergio moved the weight, to enjoy the fun of crossing miles of goose feathers before arriving at his sides. - Let's go inside. I think the bags. -

Luckily the house was already well heated. And it was exactly as he had imagined Nando: petite, with the addition of brick and looks precarious, a dream that will only last a few nights.
However, there was the TV, there was a nice comfortable couch and there was a working fireplace. Assuming that the bed in the room there was bomb-proof, had everything he needed.
- Nando Sorry, but what we eat? - Sergio asked, leaning half from the kitchen that had just finished explore. - We are in the middle of nowhere. -
for charity. He would have gladly eaten Nando piece by piece. The delicate and unreal atmosphere that had enveloped them convinced that the love she felt for him we would buy bread.
- I'm going to take something away to the village nearby. - Nando offered. - It is only five minutes by car. -
- Never mind. Where's the bedroom? -
- Impatient, Sergio? - Sergio
just blinked, and then immediately lifted a whiff of the eyebrows. Finally saw him, crouched in the corners of his mouth, that stupid grin and sexy. - My God, yes. -

The holiday officially began punitive Sergio ... Now. Nando
hoped mentally Merry Christmas, but had nothing to do. Of course, you promised to write a note of thanks to Jose Mourinho.

Action Replay On Hdloader

Fic: Tarjeta Roja

Title: Tarjeta Roja (Part One)
Fandom: RPS - FC Liverpool / Real Madrid CF
Personage / Pairing: Sergio Ramos, Fernando Torres (Sernandoh ♥)
Rating: VM18
Warning: sporcaccionaggini and lots of melancholy COC
Disclaimer: This fanfiction not for profit. (H) You do not want to offend or be prejudicial against real people described. (Eeeeeh) Nothing in this narrated fanfiction has really happened but it is fictional, so do not pretend to give a truthful picture of events or personalities. (Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh)
Notes: This fic was a birth triplets. Do not be fooled the length ridiculous, it really was hell, and for this I must thank the wonderful nurses who helped me in my usual problem of making it to succeed.
First, koorime_yu , because without her I do not go anywhere. Seriously. I lose my train, I'm kidnapped by aliens, I go into a coma glycemic misuccedonokoseh.
Then elisewin16 to straighten me some rubbish that of course I would have escaped, perlinha for Gerrard, and with this I would say that we have said everything, and ary_true to have finally sunk all my Paturnie. Thanks for putting up with me without subitissimo send me to hell, despite my insecurities and my irritantissime unsurpassed ability piagnisteiare. Heartfelt thanks to all. I feel so much wanted now I'm going to cry here. COC
And while I cry, you will enjoy this robina here. I know that the next time it will be a Puyillas, and then they will affaracci vostrih. * C * /

And here's PART TWO

- Our princess is happy. - Steve decreed, halfway between amused and inquisitive. As further evidence, drove the index and little fingers at the corners of the mouth of Fernando, a strong and pushed until he was able to form a grotesque caricature of a smile. - It's coming, huh? - Asked simply.

Torres muttered. Yes sucked their cheeks in order to escape his grip, and carefully avoided looking at him as he answered, evasively: - Yes. He's coming. -

In response, Gerrard kicked his boots and hid his head in his bag. - It's not that he did that bitch just for you? -

- Nah. - Nando shrugged in a way that he wanted to be random, but instead sounded like a lament. Only at that moment he remembered that he was dressed. Pellet his towel next to Steve and milky dall'attaccapanni pulled his jersey. Living in Liverpool, rather than hardened, the rest was even more intolerant of cold wet and foggy there, the mere idea of having to set foot outside the dressing room well heated depressed him. He always dressed in a somewhat 'chaotic after the mesh bag in traffic and pulled out a pair of clean socks, dark green. It looked bare toes, slowly moving his fingers to form small waves: felt cold and numb, but you petted with the thought that Sergio had thighs always hot as radiators. The expected long nights of pleasure feet warm.

- Come on, let's drink a beer. -

Nando shrugged and adapted willingly to the plans of Captain Gerrard: Sergio's plane, so it would not be landed before eight o'clock in the evening.

The pub next to the Walker Art Gallery was his favorite ever. Infrattato was small and in an alley almost always in shadow; was frequented by old men who lived nearby, so accustomed to their presence as not to even notice them, except to ask, from time to time, an autograph for his grandchildren. He remembered the first time we had been, how he found it dark and dingy. Only with time he realized that, in reality, it was just English. When Sergio came to see him a couple of months after his transfer had taken him there, to let him know the place where he lived now. Since then, without even realizing it, had ordered the same hoppy beer he had drunk with him. And, slowly, with the months, over the years, this pub had become the pub and had a name if it had lost.

time had stopped. Fernando looked like his mug if it contained the answer to all your questions. With your index finger, poking the board, test the small chips that met and we wanted inside. Steven let him until he reached the middle of plenty of his pint.

- Really did not do it for you? - Insisted, perhaps hoping that the so-blank question could spit him the truth.

- God, Steve, no. - Nando snorted, amused despite himself. - What, we're in a romantic show? -

- But the fact remains that in a couple of days, Real Madrid will play against Auxerre, but instead he'll be here with you. -

- The way you put it down seems like a novel. -

- is likely. -

- I do not know. Why do not you ask Xabi, maybe he has done for some special reason. -

Gerrard raised his eyebrows almost to the hairline, and made two big eyes like 'funds their mugs. Nando formed a sly smile and pocketed his small victory.

- Listen, I left word that I was involved with several charities. I cover it? - Steered with skill.

- Of course not. Where you are going to be? -

- In a kind of cottage outside the city to the north. I booked on the internet. -

- On the Internet? Maybe it's a rip off, you're in a shack. -

Fernando downed a bit 'of beer, calmly. - Do not give a damn if it is a hovel. - He said.

Steve sensed a lot of things, as a liquid half-smile, which made him assume a frowning thoughtfully.

- You are strange. A little 'I envy you. -

- Really? I do not understand what there is to envy our situation. It sucks, sometimes I just want to cry. -

- But go ahead. You know you could let go, and instead move on. -

Fernando pointed a well in his eyes. Were mild, and somewhat thickened experience. - Of course. I needed him. - Said with all the simplicity and the selfishness of a child. As if he thought that his need was actually first. As if every other way was more unreasonable and more stupid than he had chosen.

Steve had a chance to speak with Sergio, a couple of times. The few times that had come together to Xabi, that many patients had adapted to act as a simultaneous translator. And Sergio, his eyes, the eyes of a captain, had appeared for what it was: a boy in love. Now, Looking back on his words, embarrassed, to which he responded to questions with a "Nando me to this effect," and wondered if he realized, if any, in general, he realized the effect that he was Nando.

Why was Nando's, without appeal. Nando's was the most that Sergio would never have in my entire life, who knew it or not. Belonged to him like few human beings in the world belong to someone, and in a way that was not typical of any other person to show: belonged to him in silence.

- What kind of princess you are. -

Swott Analysis For Salon

God exists (and is called Alejandro)

Lady GaGa.
I love you, and I hope that one day I will marry.

Meanwhile, remaining confident expectation, and I want to make all share the fact that I discovered the films of the millennium.
"Another Gay Movie", and its worthy sequel, "Another Gay Sequel."
Now, since one would guess that name something of genius lurks in the frames of this film. E 'Magritte. The film is a
tantinello explicit but not pornographic so demeaning, indeed. It 'so ... shiny that is forgiving, and the characters are so adorably stereotyped I want to become my best friends forevah instantly.
... Misery, I'm happy with less.
Among other things, in the sequel there is an incredible beef called Luis. This has threatened to assassinate me, as I recalled that I had a guy with the same name. It was half Colombian, and was the lucky owner of the most beautiful ass I've ever seen in my life. Record still stands. Okay, this still uses the infamous Luis Supreme prohibited weapon for its beautiful Marple: The talk in English. He says
kose.karine.in.spagnolo.
Now, I've sucked it five years of high school language, more courses, study tours and various certifications for plain masochistic spirit, or even worse, because - HAH! - Accounts of finding work more easily. No no no, it's because I have a kink truly monstrous for English, English and French. I very much sympathized with the protagonist bionderrimo, when he made a face, "Okay, now that you told me that I can also los ojos azules with his car."

Seriously, is not a serious film, not a manifesto of the struggle for equal dignity, and is not a fresco of the gay world with stars and stripes. It 's just a gay American Pie filled with beautiful youths dressed in preposterous outfits, dildo fathers who give their children for graduation, and summer competitions extremely unlikely. And the soundtrack could have written Lady GaGa in person, or his trusted Alejandro. Look
. It 'awful, will kill you, and will also appear at some point a very special guest in the guise of a mermaid.
"So Many Men, So Little lube ..."

Walk With Feet Turned Out

Fic: That Phone Call

Ok, as always in everything I forgot to post my first fic here, better late than never. U_U





Community: dietrolequinte
Title: That phone call
Author: x_stateira_x
Beta: koorime_yu and janetmourfaaill
Fandom: RPS - FC Liverpool / Real Madrid CF
Characters / Pairing: Sergio Ramos, Fernando Torres (Sernandoh)
Rating: VM18
Warning: sporcaccionaggini
Disclaimer: This fanfiction is not profit. (H) You do not want to offend or be prejudicial against real people described. (Eeeeeh) Nothing in this narrated fanfiction has really happened but it is fictional, so do not pretend to give a truthful picture of events or personalities. (Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh)
Note: I angosciatissima for this debut. Angosciatissima.




- Ready. -

While he said it, Sergio Ramos was putting together a difficult puzzle pieces. was three thirty in the morning and he was sleeping the best sleep of his life. The staff had taken his cell phone to ring frantically. It was a contact number for the chosen few, that: he saw the words "private number" on the screen, but he answered automatically, even without taking the time to curse.

- Hello. - Whispered a voice. Sergio had a shiver down my spine.
- C-Who's Talking? -
Silence, and then a soft chuckle. - Who knows. Did I wake you? - At
giggle, Sergio knew him, and finally relaxed on the sheets that had kicked off in the rush to respond. - Hell, yes. - Sighed. - What is it, why do you call me with--
- Shhhh. - Sergio
closed his eyes glare. He tried the same, unmistakable tension when the idiot at the other end made him "shhh" live, right ear. He curled up a little, pushing his head against the pillow crumpled.
- All right. I'm all ears. - Murmured, amused.
- Here. That's better. -
- Why did you call me? -
- Because I wanted to hear. -
- At three o'clock in the morning? -
- Yes. I could not sleep. -
- Poor niño. -
- You know, I tried to relax a bit 'masturbate, but I did not succeed. -
- ... Thanks for informing me that you're a million miles from here with an orgasm at stake. Now I just did not succeed to sleep. -
other end, half sneer. Fernando's voice echoing slightly, as if he were in an empty room or very small. - I'll I company. Guess, I'm wearing boxers that we bought together. Red ones. Those who make the stain immediately if I get a drop. - Sergio
mentally counted to three, and then moaned softly. - Do not do this. - Blew, and stretched a hand under the sheets to get half a caress.
- All right. Then I raise them. -
- Oh no no no, no ... Nando -
A rustle through the ear's unique vibrating all the way down between her legs, and the erection he had hoped to hold off with the caress swelled almost made him sick.
Holy shit.
would have been able to distinguish the noise made when it slid off the clothes even if Fernando had been distorted and mixed with one hundred thousand other sounds. Its thin skin is wrinkled even if he bent to help pull out the hip pants and scratch card gently on the fabric.
- Sergio. - Shoot the damn little tormentor. - I'm all naked, they are very hard, and I'm thinking about you so so much that I hurt my temples. -
No replies the other. Only a faint noise. Surely Sergio was moving the cushions, to have all the space he needed.
- I came back the urge to masturbate. ... Do you hear? I'm trembling voice. -
- Yes. I feel it. - Sergio closed his eyes, like a defeated man. He ran a finger over the glans, squeezing the muscles of the back reflection of the slight sensation of cold. His body trembled at first pleasantly caress.
- Anf. - Fernando made over the phone. - Wish you were here, Sergio. I looked. -
- Yes. Nnnh, you would look, fill my eyes. Are you lying? -
- Yes. -
- God What you need to be indecent. -
- St keeping your legs wide. I can not use his left hand because I'm holding the phone. Otherwise ... Nh ... I put two fingers between your buttocks and try to do spells that you do. -
- God You're killing me. -
A sob. The vague feeling that Fernando had lost control of breath and could not talk anymore.
- S-Sergio! There are ... ... I'm ... -
Sergio gave a ferocious pace with his hand, but for those who were sighing in my ears Nando would not even be served.
- Aaaahn! - Threw out his chest, while his feet were planted curled themselves into the mattress. He came and shook a few seconds before Nando. The perfect time to enjoy with a minimum of lucidity his sigh that became frantic squeaks when he was doing was trying to breathe, and finally the long, soft, delighted "Ooooooooh" which was the best orgasm of his commentary as possible.
After at least a full minute of flotation, recovered one of the pillows that had moved, to put it under the head.
- I hate you. - Chuckled. - Explain how you came to mind to me a thing. -
- I told you. Because I missed you. -
- Yeah. - The smile was a moment of hesitation. Exhaled a long time. - When you arrive at the airport tomorrow? -
- have already arrived. -
- ... What? -
- Surprise. I'm in the car. -
- By car. Have you masturbated while driving? -
- Look, are stationary. -
- Ah, even better! All we need is that you do see! Where are you exactly? -
- In your home. I open? -

Why? Why
Nando had to be so ...?

- If you open? - Sergio
threw away the phone without being sure you have closed the call. He grabbed a pair of shorts to training that had thrown the chair before going to sleep if he had not even put them under her pants and ran like a madman down the stairs. If they had not been nearly four in the morning, would have laughed like a madman, for the savage joy of being able to immediately embrace, and why were these small, dirty things that reminded him of why he loved Fernando.

White Dots On Dogs Nose

Today is Paul died on Octopus.
What a sad day. The staff of the aquarium is destroyed for the loss, and I with them.

The English international is not doing better.
Torres is in tears for hours now. And tears are flare freckles are well known. Ramos, who is primarily a monster, he thought of consoling his uke at her home with a bunch of parsley and a sack of potatoes. Inexplicably, Torres has launched a behind the sofa.

From Morocco, I am told that Puyol has improvised a guard of honor, and gave a heartfelt speech in which he argued strongly that, without a shadow of doubt, the Octopus Paul Catalano was a true companion. Pedro, who unfortunately for him was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that is there with him, he had to hold the Catalan flag in memory of the deceased. Puyol also said to want to cut hair as a sign of mourning. He thought about eight seconds later.
In Barcelona, however, it seems that Villa, Iniesta and company sfoghino understand their pain slicing potatoes and warming pans.

Fàbregas bought a traditional cookbook, just to be ready for any eventuality.

Casillas is caught between two fires, as it would give a much sforchettatina piccolapiccolapiccola pierced the beast, but Puyol was really too scared to try to help but does not pretend addoloratissimo.

But there is a breaking news. It seems that Sneijder is just back on the sly by a mysterious lightning trip, and the legitimate demands of society and the captain responded with an evasive "I do not know anything about pesticides, ask De Jong."

's really a sad moment. All gather in mourning. I was quickly

Hip Knee Ankle Orthosis

National Mourning The endless streets of fangirlism


meditating on the fact that Live Journal is a kind of Facebook for smart people. There we write a skimpy little phrase like, "my life sucks", while here you must try to make a good impression with a post more or less articulate, thoroughly explaining why your life is so sucks. However

.
No, I also thought this new problem of shipping in my codpiece and cleats.
problem, in the sense that until yesterday I was reading the Journal with innocent eyes, but now the spell is broken, and I only have one more reason that even I needed to crave the Carbonero to drown in a toilet bowl.

I swear on my official poster for Sonic Boom of the Tour of Kiss I do not even remember how did this matter. And I also swear that I did not suspect in any way that there was a fandom, with lots of pairings and internal division into teams, national or whatever. Not that I think I'm the only one to have thought of the endless possibilities of an after-party in the locker room, of course, just that I did not think the problem, that's all.

E 'was koorime_yu to shed some' light on this, a few days ago. As always, while I was delirious, she assists in the operation of complicated to make it in life. So
appearance to talk, because I have moved two or three steps into the maze and I have not lost sight of the key to the problem, but I have to say, at least judging from what I've seen around, Shippo that I really, really strange .
This breaks my laugh and I am comforted by the fact that some habits die hard. In the Harry Potter fandom was that of "an opportunity to give Viktor / Draco." In fandom Shippo Naruto Sasuke / Neji, and no one will convince me to never stop.
Shippo things you people can not imagine. * Hugs everyone in them a collective hug *

But these are details.
What I most wanted to do was to draw the appropriate conclusions, namely: my god, but there really is a Way of fangirls, then. There is something infinitely more benevolent and guiding the minds of fangirls and, in one way or another, makes them reach the goal. It 's a bit like when I know, in archeology, people who live far apart and have no contact come to the same plastic solutions at the same time.
Sooner or later some scholars will also deal with this evolution of fangirlism, and its unpredictable meanings.
No, right? Well, thank goodness, vah.
However, the sociology of fangirlism is a fascinating subject. Take it back.

Goodnight.
fact, bona nit, as would Puyol.

Oh, and please, go and see Inception. It 's crazy, it's beautiful, and at some point there is a seed that goes to save her from head uketto glitter brandishing a rocket launcher.

Bf Likes Touching My Boobs

The beginning of the end

No, no, really, is not the best night to begin on LJ.
Milan lost, life is cruel to me and my dog biscuits crumbled stramaledettissimi his shoes. However
. As I vaguely
early account of EFP, this Live Journal post that will eventually focus on other beaches you can not post.
And if it is true that change your mind is a sign of intelligence, then it means that I am straintelligentissima, since I do not have time to say that I do not like, the next minute they are there to fangirl shamelessly. RPS
We are talking about, yes. Why I tzk, the snubs at large, RPS! Figuuuuurati if I'll ever shipp real people, just look, but even if I fell the moon on his head, it is a stupid thing to die, and - hey, but Paul Stanley is very gay, and those two players are embracing in the middle of the pitch! * O *.

Chronicle of a Death Foretold, to put a end.

Jvc Subwoofer Mini Din Connection

[Harry Potter] Smells like you

Title: Smells like you
Words: 926
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Harry / Draco
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash, non-descriptive sex scenes
Disclaimer: Obviously, everything belongs to that extraordinary woman who is the Row! ^ ^
Note: This story has been created for the constable by Italian organizations from IDA Halloween Drarry Archive. The prompt I chose is 'pumpkins'. I did not initially own ideas for the plot of this ficcina. While I was in college and tried to pay attention to a rather boring lecture, it is time that my hand started writing on her own. And 'as if the characters had taken the reins and processed by their story. In practice they have come out two stories, two versions of the same two points of view. The final work is nothing but a mix of these two adjustments. ^ ^



Draco was standing, sitting stiffly in the Great Hall to observe.


was just after eleven. He walked briskly through the corridors of the third floor. What he wanted did not know either. Perhaps just trying to escape from himself.
fact is that they were just after eleven when he realized that he was being followed.


Draco was standing, sitting stiffly in the Great Hall to observe and hear.
His nostrils were sated with sweet smell and at times nauseating, the smell of her and knew that it was ripe pumpkin and vanilla, of childhood dreams and stupid, childish and stupid as a kid.
boy he hated, hated with his whole being. He hated to admit no other thing.
Because the other thing, you know, for the faint of heart, is for fools. And he was neither the one nor the other. Not him, was different.


- Potter! - Addressed him once before a long pull his fist on the nose, in memory of old times. - You smell of pumpkin juice and vanilla, this sucks! -
- Malfoy .- simply replied the other, countering with another blow. In
Within seconds they found themselves on the ground, full of scratches and bruises and blood on her hands and lips swollen.
And when your hands are not enough, it was the turn of the bites and kicks and nails.



why Draco was standing, sitting stiffly in the Great room to observe and feel, with a disgusted expression on his face, sweet smell that reminded him of how he was different, and just. Yes, Draco was right. It was the rest of the world to be wrong, that much was certain.


soon grew and anger, with anger, the pain is brought in from a life exploded.
And then came the calm, and as it seemed the most normal to do, Draco sat next to Harry. Observed in the wall that marked the charred spot where once there was the Room of Requirement. Together their past and peered in a natural way they shook closer. In order not to feel alone, not to listen to that cold inside me, for many other reasons, Draco and Harry that night huddled and loved. With the desperation of those who no longer knows who he is, with the folly of those who do not want to account for what he does and with the courage of those who, for once, just one, does not care about the world and what is right , Draco and Harry loved.


Draco And while he was sitting erect and well- via-another boy laughed. He laughed with her lips, laughed with his teeth, and a little 'eyes. And with those same eyes scanning the crowd, people, life around him, looking for Draco.
That guy was happy. For the simple fact of being alive, he was happy. For the simple reason that the other was alive, he was happy.
Although it was a joy tinged with sadness. Although it was a happiness he had the bitter taste of regret and things unsaid.


breaths I became frantic and overwhelming passion was the only way to put aside the pain of loss, children stolen, bad choices. The bites, the signs that they left on the body, the sweat and suffering joined two kids and grown discouraged too quickly in an unfair world. Li conjoined in a right way, but in a time not yet ripe, or perhaps too much, too mature.
When Harry came into Draco did not do it gently, but, in its way, there was love. A strange kind of love that can not be understood. That fine line and invisible life in which he held two souls for one night, one was a strange kind of love.
And while her sex made its way by force, branding the flesh and having their limbs, the other laughed. Of joy, relief, of himself, Draco laughed and dug his nails even more deeply, pushing to Harry in desperation. As if the brutal and primitive way of making sex was the only reason that prevented the breaking of his soul forever.


The evening light was pink, slightly streaked with purple, and the sky was gradually darkening. Sitting on the damp
he was a boy, with his nose in the air, concentrated in the void of the firmament.
Next to him, invisible as the wind, another guy sat silent.
In the air a smell of ripe pumpkin and vanilla.


came together, with a grunting animal.
came and held tight for a moment. A brief moment before returning to the harsh reality.
- Forget everything. Forget this night, Harry. - Said before turning back.
- Why? - Asked the other.
But it was too late and Draco was already far away.


The first guy, the one with the nose in the air, thinking of being alone with himself, quietly wept.
of reasons there were so many, so many that it would be pointless to list them. Suffice to say that the blond guy, the one with the nose in the air, thinking to be alone with his shadow, silently wept.


- Why? - An intangible whisper in the night.


Another boy, invisible like the wind, sat at his side. And the smell that came be his Draco felt inside, in fact, was real and she sat silent under the same sky, on the same lawn, next to him. Invisible as the wind.
breeze that smelled of ripe pumpkin and vanilla.

Hair Styles For Petite Women

Post to LiveJournal bookmarklet



These works are published under a Creative Commons License .

Reset Built-in Tsa Lock

The court of miracles

yet another initiative 'creative' to boost my fantasy writers)
Table from the community corte_miracoli
write some originality, I hope decent. :)

SET1

01.	"There is no Heaven or Hell."	02.	"We are innocent people as criminals."	03.	"To us the justice we passed by."	04.	"lunches in the world we are the leftovers."	05.	"What miracles do you want?"
06.	"We have nothing that has zero."	07.	"We are the losers, beaten and defeated. "	08.	"We are foreigners around the world."	09.	"Wherever we are we are out."	10.	"And if we lose, we lose nothing."

Thesis Statement On Murder

Me ..

'm tired . I stranded in the valley, when it begins the ascent ?

Quotes For 3rd B;day Party

Original. Belial. Ira.

Title: Ira
Author: dreamingfaires
Fandom: Original
Character: Belial / Armida
Prompt: Ira
Raiting: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 209
Disclaimer: These characters are the result of my fantasy and belong only to myself, then woe to those who steal them to me! ^ ^
List: here
Notes: The fic below is based on characters from the book I'm writing then, because I doubt you know what it's about, I'll just because a small guide can understand what I'm talking about. Armida, Belial and Murdred are black-winged Night of the Angels who live in another dimension. Murdred is one of the tests and is the master of Belial, and the girl while the latter are simply angels. This fic is set just after the 'fall' of Armida on Earth, under pressure from the other angels to live among mortals, because of the feelings that he felt towards his fellow man. POV of Belial after Armida has started a new life on Earth, I forgot. There is no spoiler to say more, and especially not to make the notes longer than the fic.


You told me to be able to recognize my brown eyes among a thousand black eyes, for the simple fact that they were mine. So since then every day I go down to Earth and peered carefully through the crowd in the hope of being recognized. But you're far away now and that makes me angry.
You fought for me to lose the wings, and yet you come to forget me. As I've been able? How did you get so upset and then to get away from me as if nothing had happened?
Some days you hate, anger and pain are too much to bear.
You came into my life and, like a hurricane, you've destroyed, leaving only rubble behind you. And now what I see when I look in the mirror, I do not like, I became the ghost of what I was and all this is the fault yours.
you, that you're gone and I've forgotten. You, who no longer recognizes my dark eyes in a thousand.
I have given up everything for your love. I questioned my relationship with him, I doubted myself. But the fact is that sometimes you are just passing through, and when it becomes aware, anger takes over.

Rca To Usb Cable Radio Shack

Original. Belial. Envy

Title: New start
Author: dreamingfaires
Fandom: Original
Character: Belial / Armida
Prompt: Envy
Raiting: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 604
Disclaimer: These characters are a figment of my imagination and belong only to myself, then woe to those who steal them to me! ^ ^
List: here
Notes: The fic below is based on characters from the book I'm writing then, because I doubt you know what it's about, I'll just because a small guide can understand what I'm talking about. Armida, Belial and Murdred are black-winged Night of the Angels who live in another dimension. Murdred is one of the tests and is the master of Belial, and the girl while the latter are simply angels. This fic is set just after the 'fall' of Armida on Earth, under pressure from the other angels to live among mortals, because of the feelings that he felt towards his fellow man. There is no spoiler to say more, and especially not to make the notes longer than the fic.
PS: Linda I love you and I know that you're the only one who will understand something here! : P
PPS: I know the title sucks, but I could not think of anything. -.- Well blame me, I do it myself. '^ ^


I began dissolved.

Very often it is in the beginning, did you ever think? All
the essence of things is in their principle. And my
begins with me that I dissolve.

Large, soft black wings on my back breaks down slowly, feather after feather scattered in the wind. I felt cold, the rain was beating on my naked body and every drop was like a stab to the heart. The
remember you still imprinted in my mind, branded.

We can say that memories are like boulders in the soul because they often leave behind only their shattered hopes and disillusionment. -said his voice in my head. And I hated her voice. I hated everything about him . But an angel, albeit black-winged, can not hate, right?

E 'why have you lost those wings, Armida. You sin of envy.

With every tear a part of me went away. At one point I heard only silence.

My heart had stopped beating and I was rather tired of listening? - this time it was my voice.

I can still see that image, become indelible. I was looking away from your eyes, I was hoping that you girassi, looking at me really. But your eyes were only for him. I stared at him intensely, more than was permissible to reserve to their Master, you were never meant for me the same attention.
Murdred turned to me and in her eyes I read something similar to the punishment. That was the worst moment, one in which I knew belonged to him and not me.

the world there are people who are not capable of love and people who can not do anything else.
I belong to the second category. - Why is the voice of my heart should be so similar to his? Because every time I think I have to feel calm and laid quell'intonazione of those who think they know everything about life?

I thought to myself that you love more, Belial, but he was right. I loved myself more than you, so my selfishness that prevented me to understand, to let you go so that you could be with the one really makes you happy. I, however, putting my happiness to you and that was wrong.

I find myself still here to remind you and selfishness, and of what others think I do not know what to do when the only thing I know is that I miss - this time it is me talking: Armida, l & rsquo ; fallen angel.
- What happened has made that part of me that I speak as the Wise Murdred?

began dissolved and I decided to make the right choice.

There are days that never go out, that the thought of you is so strong and overwhelming as to creep into every part of me. The whole world loses all consistency and the only thing I want is to close your eyes and open them again, seeing you next to me.

Each feather it fell to the ground was a certainty that was not, a barrier that fell, and the knowledge took root in me.

the morning is the worst time. Wake up and realize that this is real, that my wings are gone, which are confined to this earthly life, while you're still up there with the other Angels Night, with him. It 's like to die at each awakening, like dying every day.

When all my tears dried up, when I felt my heart stop bleeding, then I understood.

At night I dream of you. Embraced the two of us dream, your lips on mine and your smile.
Then I wake up and you're not there.
Then I wake up and just die.

I realized I had let you go.