#lusitaniae

[amantebravo]

“ was that you doing zumba on my front lawn? ”

“Ah, so you noticed!” He smirks. “Didn’t it look fun? You’ll come with me to the next class now, won’t you? The ladies love me there.”

[paralianprince]

allamericxnidiot replied to your post “click here to unlock a repressed memory”

thanks I hate it sidbwjfbs

lusitaniae replied to your post “click here to unlock a repressed memory”

I'm WAILING

skogsmark replied to your post “click here to unlock a repressed memory”

my mind just flashed with a dozen neon gifsets

hailcolumbia replied to your post “click here to unlock a repressed memory”

im beginning to believe that u ARE peter

:3cccc

[amantebravo]

[ smooches ]

VALENTINES INTERACTIONS

At first there’s silence because he’s not sure what’s happening and then there’s SCREAMING.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

[avvus]

“Do not tell me that this is finally the moment you’ve decided to actually care about someone other than yourself.”

     Roma rises to his feet at that claim, large hands slamming down on the table as he stands at full, grand height. “Do not dare tell me I am selfish,” his voice thunders. “You can call me many things and I will have no grounds to argue, but never have I been selfish when it came to my wards.” 

     “Now, you’ll either except my help, or I will leave. That voice is yours.” 

[coeurepuise]

“ your lack of self-awareness is deeply troubling ”

fire emblem : three houses

      “You say lack of self-awareness, but I think I am aware enough of myself that there is no cause for issue. Why would it bother you, anyway?”

[amantebravo]

@lusitaniae | Iberian Union: 1625

Antonio is angry. That’s all he ever seems to be, lately. Maybe it was the stress, what with the thirty years war still raging on and on, and England constantly hindering his plans and stealing more than just gold from him, it seems. The Spaniard was always on edge... and now this. Another fight about Diogo wanting to leave. Many servants are gathered in the courtyard, watching helplessly. Grasping the other’s collar roughly, the Spaniard throws Diogo against a courtyard column, knocking debris and dust down from the awning above them. Then, he draws the saber sheathed at his side and points it directly at Diogo, something he had never done before. “Quit saying that! There’s no reason you shouldn’t be happy! Aren’t you grateful for what I’ve done for you?!” Sword pointed at Diogo’s throat, his loud words continue to be filled with a fiery rage. Anger, bitterness, jealousy, desperation, all are present in his expression, a violent scowl, making him look perhaps a bit deranged. “You just miss your precious Arthur, don’t you? What lies does he write in those letters he sends you? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!” His head tilts to the side now, faking an understanding look. “How you smile when you read them. So cute!” The younger brunette moves forward quickly to strike the other across the face with his hand, like a snake, then the sword comes right back.

How did it end up like this? Things had been quite nice at the start of their union in 1580, up until Philip II of Portugal died. Now the current Spanish King demands resources and aid from Portugal... and Diogo wants out. Antonio can’t lose him. He won’t.

[za-rodinu]

“Everything is about sex. Except sex. Sex is about power.”

house of cards sentence starters ⋟  accepting

“Everything.”  He echoed, plucking up the bottle at Portugal’s elbow. 

“I promise, I am only here to make use of your harbors and then leave. Your geographical harbors, mind you. Perhaps you are looking into this a little too,” Ivan hesitated. ‘Desperately’ would have been a nice word, but likely incorrect. “A little too thoroughly.”   

[cafe-der-nederlanden]

Racing in that ostentatious car of his, Jan was on what might be described as a suicide mission. This odd, strained string of events prevailed long enough and Diogo seemed more than happy to leave them utterly in the sun, bloated, reeking with a overdue stench.

Trying his best not to appear strung up, and it was excruciating not to, he pulled once again into that familiar driveway. In case the Portuguese was not there, Jan brought out a bottle of vodka, prepared to sit in that same patch of overgrown garden as he had done years before, in his cemetery of ash and cigarette butts. He summarized that a torqued up, simmering ball of unanswered questions and unresolved issues may not be the best way to present himself, but unless he was on a gorgeous beach out in the Caribbean, when wasn’t he when it came to Diogo?

With a firm knock, Jan waited with the bottle in hand; a bizarre mortal part of him beating much too loudly that Diogo was sure to hear as loud as the strong rapping that called to him.