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. -