Things weren’t going the way the home crowd had hoped. FC
Porto were down by two goals with only ten minutes left to play. Everyone sat
in the crowd, head in hands, just waiting for the whistle to blow to end their
misery. It would be more than just a loss. By not winning today, the team lost
the chance of going to the top of the table. With only a few weeks left in the
competition, every single match was crucial.
Artist Creates Stunning Watercolor Paintings of the Places She Visits
Elena Efremova is a Russian artist focused on painting, drawing and illustration currently based in France. She has featured highly popular work which creatively visualizes the thoughts and scenes before, by not just painting them, but making them an extension of reality which finds her paper to finish its journey in. Her latest work features stunning watercolor landscapes that fit perfectly into the real image before like a missing puzzle piece.
I had several offers but none were as attractive as Porto. In addition, I wanted to leave Spain. Signing for Porto was a way for me to let go of Real Madrid, put them in the past, and play for an overseas club that I felt a connection with.
A/N:This is my way of apologizing and trying to make things good. Please, don’t be mad. Yes, I’m working at the requests. No, I didn’t forget about you all. Anyway, I was watching How To Train Your Dragon 2 with Winters and I had this crazy idea for Edward and I got up at the middle of the night - I think it was 3 am or something - to start writing it. Hope you guys enjoy?
Sinopse:Edward travels too much for your liking, leaving you worried about his safety. After one of his “adventures” - as he calls them -, you come to comfront him again and try to keep him safe; at least for more than a week.
You watched furiously as the Jackdaw anchored up to
the dock of the Great Inagua, its sails floundering at the strong winds of the
afternoon, nearing the sunset. And at the stern of the pirate brigue, was him. Edward — standing proudly — as
if he were the king of the world.
You huffed, rolling your
He promised you. Edward told you he wouldn’t be
leaving for any adventures— as he
called his lootings — any time soon. The man begged you to believe him and you
did. But something came up, you had heard at the tavern. A royal scout, filled
with silver and merchandise from the Orient, none of them carrying less than
ten thousand reales in money and goods. Oh, you knew it. You just knew he’d
The scout came from Porto
Principe, making its way to Kingston to sell and gather supplies from its rough
travel back to Spain. Apparently, 4 ships composed of it, and at least one of
them was a Man O’ War. No one with a sane mind would dare to approach that
scout, much less try to loot it. It was suicide, certainly.
Except Edward Kenway. Of course.
You didn’t say anything when
he had cheered about the new adventure during a party at his manor at the top
of the hill, raising up a tankard and throwing up a tacky motivational speech;
and surprisingly convincing his men to side with him in this madness. Edward
didn’t say a word about it either. He kissed you and hugged you the whole night
while you played it dumb. You two would talk tomorrow morning. It was a silent
agreement when your eyes met his during the speech.
And oh, he knew it. He knew
what you would be saying, you would scold him for being so damn reckless with
his own life; and a lesson about broken promises. Basically, the lecture of a
lifetime. And that’s why, when you woke up, the damn bastard was nowhere to be
found, only showing up now, almost two weeks later.
You crossed your arms,
walking calmly down the wharf, feeling his eyes on you. When the ship anchored,
the sails finally drawing back and the anchor loosening, the men threw a wooden
board a few feet away from where you stood. Some of them nodded at you, their
smiles — some of them toothless — reflecting how proud and happy most were.
Of course, you noticed a few
lows in the crew, as well as a few new faces. Life wasn’t perfect and being a
pirate was dangerous.
“Back to the land, I see!”
You cheered at Joey’s self assured smirk. Funny little man he was, tiny but
quick thinker. He was quite friendly for a pirate, and you adored his drunken
musings, so sharing ale with him at the end of the day wasn’t an odd thought.
“Aye, lass!” He nodded
excitedly, carrying a crate to the nearest general store. “The looting was
good, there’s plenty for everyone. Captain Kenway is very satisfied. You should
go talk to man and you know… Catch up with him.” The pirate wiggled his
eyebrows, smiling cheekily. “But please, keep it low. Spare the children.”
You scoffed at him. “And I
think you should mind about your own life, my friend.”
“Oh, you wound me with your
cruel words, m’lady.” Joey mocked in fake offense before turning around to make
his way to the stores. “We are going to get drunk today, Y/N! All of us!” He
yelled happily, making you chuckle and shake your head before turning to watch
Edward discussing something with Adéwale. You breathed in, thinning your lips
and making your way through the crew to them.
“… And that’s why we should
go.” The welsh man said with a flourish, pointing excitedly to a piece of
“Yes. I know it, Kenway. I
am not stupid.” He retorted back at Edward. You two made visual contact over
the captain’s shoulder, and you crossed your arms; throwing your best smile.
Adéwale scoffed humorously at your face before patting at the man’s shoulder.
“We shall discuss it later, Kenway.”
“But I’m not done yet, Adé!”
“I know. But I am.” He
chuckled, directing himself to the tavern. “Later.”
Edward sighed dramatically,
holding a piece of paper with some drawings on it, muttering something about a
treasure. You had to resist the urge to just roll your eyes again. The man
barely came at land and already was talking about sailing again.
You scoffed in disbelief.
“Enjoyed the trip, Edward?” The welsh man stilled, folding the piece of paper
hurriedly and tucking it away in his pocket.
“Y/N!” He cheered in an
abnormally joyful voice. “What are you up to? Sneaking up behind me, that’s not
a nice thing to do.” He joked. “Where is my hug?” And you crossed your arms
“Don’t you think you forgot
about something, Edward?” He stilled for a while, looking to the wooden boards
of the ship.
“Hm? Did I? I… Uh…” Suddenly
his expression lightened up. “Oh, of course! I didn’t! See? I brought you a
necklace and…” He fumbled with his pockets for a while before you piped in.
“So this is where your heart
lies?” You hissed at him. “Not in those who love and care for you but in
treasures and bounties?! I honestly thought better of you, Edward!” He looked
like he was about to reply, but you didn’t want to listen. You turned around,
ready to leave the ship and go to who knows where, furious.
“Love, wait…” The welsh man
called, holding your wrist lightly. “Don’t. I can explain, I swear…”
“What can you explain to me,
Edward?” You mused in cynical humor. “After all, you are a pirate, aren’t you?
A true pirate, as I can see.” You smirked, holding back your frustrated cry and
“Y/N, I… I know that there’s
no excuse for this… But we can talk now. If you want to, of course… “ He paused
for a moment. “Don’t you want to sort this out? With me?” His hand slipped off
of your wrist, clasping and unclasping nervously beside him.
“Just… What the bloody
hell?!” You exclaimed, turning around at him. “What did you expect? That after
you do exactly what you told me you wouldn’t you’d bring me a shiny trinket and
it’d be fine?!” Edward opened his mouth to answer “Cut it out, Kenway! You wouldn’t
listen to me and you know it!”
“You know that it’s not the
truth, love…” He retorted like a child. “I always listen to you.”
You stood silently at your
place, looking out at the blue sea. “Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with you.
You always seem to run after danger, like a madman. Like you are trying to see…
how far you’d go until you manage to kill yourself.”
An awkward silence fell for
a moment before Edward came near, hands smoothing your shoulders lightly, to
let you pull away when you wanted. “I know, love… I know.” He pulled you gently
“You noticed. I see you are
not as naive as I thought.” You muttered bitterly. “But keep in mind that
you’re still an idiot.” You stated, resisting against him.
“You know…” He started, smoothing your arms with gentle hands — despite
calloused fingertips. “While I’m out you never leave my mind.” Edward stopped
for a while, huffing awkwardly. “I’m thinking about you. Constantly.”
You laughed softly, looking away from him. “Now it’s working.”
“Is it?” He mumbled lightheartedly. You scoffed a bit when his hands
came up to cup your face and he bent over to kiss your forehead lightly. “Please,
don’t be mad at me.” Edward pleaded in a hushed voice, pressing his lips
lovingly against you.
He was such an infuriating asshole. Either way, you couldn’t help but
lean forward slightly, arms wrapping around his torso in a tight hug. “I just
worry about you, Edward. I’m scared for you.” You croaked in a hoarse voice,
feeling your eyes burning at the beginning of a cry. The man sighed, coaxing
you to press your face against his shoulder.
“Shh… I know love, I know it.” Edward paused for a while, caressing your
scalp gently. “I can’t hold back, Y/N. We talked about it. If I don’t go, the
men will start to question me. Say I’m losing my way. You know that…”
You knew it was true. They wanted adventure, and adventure they should
have. Clenching your teeth, you hugged Edward tighter and nuzzled against his
neck, breathing in his smell — a mix of salt, the sweetness of Cuban rum and a woody
like scent. “Say what, love…” He started, looking down at you. “Would you like
to sail with me?”
“W- What?” You stuttered,
widening your eyes in shock. “Edward, listen to yourself!”
“What is wrong with it? The men like you, don’t they?” The welsh man
inquired, eyes glinting with humor.
“And you can handle yourself, can’t you?”
“Yes, of course I can! But…” You stammered, mind a complete mess.
“Then it’s set. You’ll stay with me in my cabin.” He commented with
humor, kissing the tip of your nose. “We’re sailing two days from now.”
He was, indeed, a crazy man. The idea was crazy. So many things could go
wrong. But, at this moment, you couldn’t care less.
You giggled, trying to hide the blush of your cheeks at his shoulder. “You
are impossible, Edward Kenway.”
Salve doc, so che probabilmente chiedo troppo, ma non si potrebbe avere una delle sue storie zen brevettate per risollevare una giornata particolarmente merdosa? Gliene sarei enormemente grato.
Te ne scrivo una in ritardo, sperando che la notte abbia lenito parte della tua ambascia.
Un tempo viveva nella remota provincia del Chang'an una leggiadra e mite fanciulla di nome Chun Lee. Proporzionate le sue fattezze e nobili i lineamenti, sebbene di umili origini, ma ben più stupefacente era la saggezza e il conforto che le sue parole recavano al viandante che si trovasse a passare e a chiedere ristoro, ragione per la quale venne soprannominata Pao Hu Jen, La Dama che Protegge.
Un giorno l’imperatore Sima Qian proclamò un editto per cui venne imposto che tutte le donne sopra i 20 anni dovessero trovare un marito e presto grande fu il numero degli uomini che si affollarono al cancello dello splendido giardino di Chun Lee.
Prenderò come sposo colui che nel mio giardino coglierà e mi porterà il fiore che preferisco - disse la dama, che poi si sedette sulla veranda in attesa.
Le decine di uomini si affrettarono a cercare chi il fiore più bello, chi il fiore più profumato e nel giro di poco tempo, mazzo dopo mazzo, stelo dopo stelo, il giardino si trasformò in un campo di battaglia, con uomini che litigavano e pestavano le aiuole.
Venne il tramonto e questa volta ordinatamente gli uomini presentarono il loro dono a Chun Lee.
Il mio nome è Ch'u Wai, coraggioso guerriero, e ti porto in dono questa rosa scarlatta le cui spine, intrise del mio sangue, ti parlano del mio valore!
Chun Lee lo congedò con un gesto della mano.
Il mio nome è Huan Hsiang, famoso pittore, e questo Giglio Tigrato vorrei che lo tenessi accostato al tuo splendido volto mentre ritraggo la tua bellezza!
Chun Lee lo allontanò con un gesto.
Il mio nome è Shih Jen, poeta di corte, e questo fiore di Calicanto è il simbolo dell’amore che mi legava a te quando ancora non ci conoscevamo ed eravamo solo un pensiero nella mente di Yue Lao!
Chun Lee congedò anche lui.
Si susseguirono uomini valorosi, saggi, possenti, ricchi, colti ma la ragazza non scelse nessuno di loro. Alla fine si presentò un giovane, l’ultimo, poiché si era tenuto pazientemente in disparte.
Il mio nome è Ning Choi-san e non ero nessuno, finché una sera d’inverno, cacciato dalla mia famiglia, non mi salvasti dalla tormenta dandomi riparo. Questo è ciò che nel tuo giardino ho raccolto per te - e aperto il suo mantello, mise ai piedi di Chun Lee tutti i bulbi e i semi sfuggiti alla furiosa devastazione del giardino.
Questi sono i fiori che preferisco - disse Chun Lee - quelli che vengono salvati e che nasceranno a dispetto della furia sconsiderata dell’uomo.
Finding a sense of place with architect @diogolage
To see more photos from Diogo, follow @diogolage on Instagram.
For Portuguese architect Diogo Lage (@diogolage), photography is about discovering and capturing physical places. After losing all of his negatives in a flood, Diogo took a 10-year break from photography, returning to the craft only a year ago. “I decided to hike the Way of St. James,“ he says, referring to the pilgrimage route to the shrine of the Apostle James in Santiago, Spain. “This inspired me to start shooting again, giving those walks meaning.”
Having studied art and design at university, Diogo finds artistic influences almost everywhere. “My numerous influences and inspirations often serve as the backdrop for my photos,” he says.
Diogo currently lives in Porto, and enjoys capturing the city’s quirky locations, luring local characters into his shots. “After a little bit of conversation, they rarely refuse,” he says. Diogo hopes his photography will encourage others to explore their own cities, and even visit the spots where his pictures were taken.
“He had karma to work out, and he wasn’t going to come back and be bad. He was going to be good and bad and loving and angry and everything all at once. You know, if someone said to you, ‘Okay, you can go through your life and you can have everything in five lifetimes, or you can have a really intense one and have it in one, and then you can go and be liberated,’ he would have said, 'Give me the one, I’m not coming back here.’” - Olivia Harrison, Living in the Material World