#and not even just the worst horse games
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not to beat a dead horse (tales) but the fact that horse tales is STILL broken despite patches released and remains virtually unplayable on switch (or literally unplayable because it doesn’t save) is just horse game watergate
#i'm not mad i just think it's very funny at this point#like i gave up on the game once i beat the tutorial oops i mean main story#and then i was like so they are absolutely not going to continue working on this#i wanted to give this game benefit of the doubt for being adjacent shovelware the devs seemed excited about#but naur it is... probably one of the worst games i've ever played#and not even just the worst horse games#sorry for anyone who still plays it if you do but you fell for some propaganda kid and i'm sorry#someone gave you a bike with one tire and you learned to unicycle godspeed
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Let the revenge games begin.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#jin guangyao#nie huaisang#He's gonna call his 5 horse friends up. They have to go on a 14 year long journey to finish the job but by god they will do it.#The sheer chaos in the Audio Drama is really fantastic. Reminds me of those traincar murder mysteries.#The lights go off and there's a scream and then BOOM dead body. Who did that!!!#Okay it was qi deviation and he did it to stop himself from killing his brother. He did it to himself.#JGY sadly has the worst alibi ever though. Both the strongest motivation and also uhhh presence at the scene.#Not to nitpick but as someone who loves murder mysteries - I do feel like even *one* other suspect would have made it stronger.#I get that he tried to make it look like an inevitable Qi Deviation and that it *is* something within the family legacy.#And a big part of NHS figuring it all out comes down to his own perceptiveness and intelligence.#If you weren't close enough to JGY and NMJ of course it looks like an accident.#Sadly 'guy who plays the 'poor little meow meow card'' is also weak to 'guy who plays the 'poor little meow meow card''.#NHS was the better subtle manipulator at the end. That's probably the strongest mystery part of MDZS. And why he's in my top 5.#My man pulled the 'kill him just as he falls from the top of his game and loses everything' gambit and I love him for it.
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Last Line Meme
I was tagged by @sepetajmikolikomehoces!
It’s not like he can really do anything about the situation anyway.
Which... is very vague xD it's also the end of that scene.
Tagging @anxious-witch @echo-bleu and @pherryt along with everyone who feels like doing it!
#I'd hoped to wrap up a couple more scenes#(maybe enough to post the next chapter even)#but then I took an unexpected dive off a moving horse#and now my pinky hurts too much to feasibly write a lot#(horse is fine#just got spooked by a stroller)#and my pinky getting caught in the reins was the worst that happened to me#and a jogger caught my runaway boy and brought him back to me#xia writes#tag game
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#in tags cos I'm not tryna start disk horse I just feel like ranting a bit about it cos it annoys me ahsmdhsbsgd#i'm tired of the prevalent attitude in a lot of RPG video game fandoms that men VAs suck and deserve to be ridiculed for no reason ahrbdgdgd#like it's been going on for so many years i'm tired i'm over it i'm done#having a preference for the female VAs and character options is fine lord knows i prefer to play them myself#but like mark meer??? gavin drea??? aren't bad actors???#it's a different performance and interpretation but like they're at worst FINE (but also actually good)#even in games where i have a very big preference for the female VA (ac odyssey and valhalla) the guy is still good???#i'm not big into alexios or meivor but i think their performances as deimos and odin respectively are brilliant for those stories#(and that's really a flaw in the fact they were not supposed to be main character options originally and were rewritten for that)#(so it's not on the VAs but ubisoft being dumbasses who fear making a woman the sole protagonist)#ANYWAY i know it's not that serious but it's so weird seeing people in tags on a certain post being so... nasty#about people they don't know and who afiak have been nothing but kind and appreciative of their fandoms#thank fuck honestly that bg3 doesn't have full voiced Tavs/Durges cos i know people would be freaks about the guys there too#also in games as big as these massive RPGs it's rarely just one voice director for the whole project#so a lot of the times a big reason these voice performances are very different is they're likely being directed by different people#sometimes different directors for different scenes so like. there's a lot of things that can change from page to performance because of that
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The worst thing about my brain being an autopilot grammar nazi is that every single time I see people misuse “it’s” and “its” as well as apostrophe placements is that I don’t want to be rude and correct people... but my brain still is like UGH THIS IS THE WORST.
“It’s” and “Its” are more just my brain going weeo weeo on me when that’s a more understandable one bc “its” is literally the exception to a rule (because “it’s” actually means “it is”, so to avoid it being used for two meanings the apostrophe is removed for ownership cases), but when I see apostrophes before an S for plural wording and I know they speak English properly I’m just like. ugh. damn. bruh. please. go back to school.
Less severe cases of incorrect apostrophe use tends to be like, when people are playing Heroes and have duplicates of units and are like “my Ike’s” instead of “my Ikes”, because I think people are trying to... make it more clear that it’s referring to more than one? I think? Maybe? Or they literally just don’t realize it’s incorrect grammar, idk lol. Still can’t get past my weeo weeo autopilot brain though sadly.
LIKE. IT’S NOT ANYONE’S FAULT THAT MY BRAIN IS WEEO WEEO, IT JUST IS.
Which speaking of Heroes, FE in general seems to have its script in every single game ever coded to always use apostrophes for ownership cases even when the word ends in S, so don’t worry folks. IntSys isn’t getting off scot free from my brain either LOL. No amount of “princess’s” is ever gonna fly with my weeo weeo brain.
this has been a psa
mainly a psa of my brain weeo weeos
#DCB Comments#but the absolute worst offenders are people who overuse apostrophes and like#don't know how to write the plural of a word. today I saw someone write horse's to indicate more than one more horse#and I think the darkest depths of my soul finally cracked at the sight shjfgjhgs#this wasn't someone who speaks in broken English either or anything. they know how to speak the whole language just fine#also the other worst thing about my grammar brain is that I could absolutely get a job teaching English based on my knowledge alone#but I don't have an uwu master's degree uwu so getting teaching jobs even as freelance work is basically impossible#the world decides your worth based on how much you were willing to pay an institution for a certificate#and doesn't base you on your actual worth or knowledge so yeah that's great#can't wait until we're in an anime or video game where society's young decides that's bullshit and we're totally over it and rebel sjkfghju#also you know how you see those posts of ppl being like forget what you learned in school? yeah no don't do that with grammar#to an extent it's one thing (the really stupid ''rules'' like don't start a sentence with x word) and some of it was over the top#but there ARE actually legit reasons for some of those grammar rules; it's just that schools fail to teach them properly#I was extremely lucky to have very amazing English teachers for the most part ngl bc most schools don't teach even basic shit well#at least in my country. even in my school the stuff they taught was shit lol I just got very lucky to have great English teachers#but like for instance run on sentences are usually seen as an issue in writing because people lose their understanding of the sentence#if the sentence goes on too long with too many thoughts you'll probably forget what it was even about in the first place#if it's a WRITING style like a book or a fanfic or whatever it can make sense in some cases you just have to be thoughtful abt it!#but rly like I see people who can't even write basic English grammar who can speak it fluently and I'm like#what the fuck are these schools doing??? bc I can tell you what they're NOT doing e.e#this isn't limited to gen z btw I see ppl around my age who do this stuff with grammar too so... yikes#in fact I see people OLDER than my generation doing it too like... my own mom lmao#I'M SORRY I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT IT'S BEEN EATING AWAY MY EXISTENCE FOR MANY YEARS
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Male Harem of Bullies
Kinktober Day 9: Bullies/Gang Bang
Four Male Animal-Human Hybrid Yanderes x Feminized Male Ferret-Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, ass eaten like it's groceries, bullying, fivesome, gang bang, double penetration, triple penetration, more double penetration, forced feminization, crossdressing, kidnapping, non-human genitalia, massive horse dick, colossal rhino cock, slimy reptilian dicks, rhino-man, horse-man, lizard-man, bull-man, male harem, oral sex, anal sex, bottom reader, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Slightly different from my initial vision but much better imho, made to be expanded on with drabbles involving each man, possibly multiple drabbles with each exploring different situations.)
Baryn the Bully. A brash, arrogant, cocky, oversexed rhino hybrid jock who thought more with his dick than his brain. He was the star of the college's football team, so of course, he was extremely popular.
You were the complete opposite. A small, intelligent, and soft spoken male ferret hybrid. A total nerd. Always kept your head down, and often between the pages of a book.
While he was a bit rude to the other geeks, he reserved his worst behavior for you. Trapping you in your locker, pantsing you, making fun of you.
There wasn't any recourse. There was no way the college was going to punish their most talented football player. And you weren't made of money, you couldn't just transfer to another school.
And you didn't want to leave anyway! Why should you? You liked your classes, you had friends in your dorm, and you only lived one town away from family. You could handle a little bullying if it meant keeping all those perks. Not to mention the campus library. It was colossal. And where you spent the vast majority of your spare time.
That's where you were on the night of the big football game, in the library studying with your friend, and roommate, Nat. With the vast majority of students preparing to watch the game with their friends from their dorms or attend live, the library was nearly empty.
"I have to use the restroom, I'll be right back."
Nat made a sound of acknowledgment as he continued his studies.
On your way out of the restroom, you smacked right into Baryn. A wall of thick grey muscle. What the hell was he doing in the library at all, let alone before a big game? You flicked your tail nervously as he smirked at you wickedly. You only saw that expression on him before he bullied you in some way. You noticed he was carrying a large gym bag.
"Just who I was looking for!"
Baryn gave you no time to complain as he quickly stuffed you into the duffel bag and left. It stank heavily of the rhino's heady musk, the smell making you quite a bit dizzy. You had no idea where he was taking you. Despite your shouts and thrashing, no one stopped to help. Either they were too scared of the big rhino-man, or they recognized him and figured it was just a silly jock or frat prank.
And you had thought it was some fucked up joke too. Maybe he was going to keep you in this bag during the game or put you in a locker, but it was far worse than that.
You felt the bag being set down gently. It was opened soon after that. You immediately leapt out, claws at the ready. You scratched and bit at Baryn's tough skin. You didn't even register that he was naked. He chuckled as the most you managed to do was cause a stray trickle of blood here and there.
"Love it when ya start throwin' a hissy fit."
He smacked your ass playfully before he started removing your clothing. By then, tears were running down your face as you cried in frustration.
"F-fuck off! Give me m-my clothes!"
He sat on the sofa and pulled you into his lap. A strong hand was over your mouth, and he held you close, forcing you to lean back into his chest. He nuzzled your neck, careful not to poke you with the horn that tipped his nose.
"Just relax, darlin." You're gonna help me and the bros with a lil' pre-game tradition we have."
He took his free hand and fondled your cock and balls.
"We always have a good fuck before a big game! The gals we normally use weren't available for the job. It's super easy, y'all ain't even gotta do any work. Just be a good fleshlight for us."
At that, you thrashed and let out muffled screams, you didn't want this fucker's dick in you. Just then, the door burst open, and the other top three football players who were members of Baryn's frat barged in.
Mikael, the part horse hybrid. He was really tall but still pretty muscular. His ears and tail were the only visible horse traits, but there were rumors his dick was horse-like, too.
Alvaro, the lizard hybrid. He was a bit short but extremely strong. Eyes like a snake, with scales framing his face and covering his arms, legs, and tail.
The final one inside was Krash, at least that's what everyone called him. He was a bull man. He was as tall and muscled as Baryn, but fur covered his entire body with the exception of his face. He was also equipped with two large curved horns.
All of your bullies were assembled to make your life worse.
"Yo, you already started without us?" Inquired Alvaro.
"Nah, I was just explaining the job to our new girlfriend. About how she just has to stay still and let it happen. I hadn't gotten to the part about how we decided that she would be our girlfriend permanently, though," explained Baryn.
You were trembling. The way that they were staring at you. The way they were talking. They were insane.
Mikael leaned down and licked up your tears before chuckling.
"Aww, don't be scared. We won't hurt you, cutie. You're lucky. We all wanted to share a girlfriend for our pre-game tradition, and we all had a crush on you! Don't you feel lucky?" he said in a mocking tone.
"Course we're all bi, but kinda prefer women. More acceptable for my family, too. So we've decided that you're a lady now. And none of us gentlemen would bully a lady, so if you cooperate, we'll treat ya a lot better," the rhino cooed into your ear while rubbing your thighs.
"N-no! Just let me go! You aren't treating me b-better, j-just trading one torture for a-a-another!!" You began sobbing and shaking inconsolably.
Not to worry though, you're four new boyfriends knew just how to cheer up their little lady friend. You were clearly just moody and upset by a lack of proper attention. You obviously needed their seed in your belly.
Krash wordlessly kneeled between your legs and held your legs still with his strong hands. He used his broad tongue to apply thick drool to your hole, slipping it into you and massaging it as well as he could. You had to be as stretched, lubed, and relaxed as possible if you were going to take all of them.
You twitched and shuddered as the unwelcome intrusion made your cock stand up.
"Pl-please sto-," you whined pitifully before being cut off by Mikael.
"Stop? You clearly like it!" He leaned over Krash and rubbed a finger up and down your cock to tease you.
Baryn bit and sucked on your neck before you could reply, causing your mind to go a bit blank with how good it felt in conjunction with Krash's sloppy tongue tending to your ass.
"I think that means she's ready," someone chuckled. You couldn't tell who, though. Your brain was soup. It must have been Baryn because he was the first to slip his cock into you once Krash stopped licking.
It must have been more rhino like than human because the ridges and folds made you drool when you felt them slowly move back and forth against your inner walls. While Baryn continued fucking into you slowly Krash decided to suck on your leaking dick.
"Damn, she really does like it," Alvaro mused as you bucked instinctively into Krash's warm, inviting mouth.
You moaned as you came and then relaxed quite a bit. Since you were so well stretched and much more compliant now, Krash got up and positioned himself in front of you and slipped his dick in beside Baryn's. The stretch was uncomfortable but not painful. They were careful to go at a slow pace that their previously virgin girlfriend could handle.
Krash didn't last too terribly long. He had forgotten to jerk off several times so that he could last a long time like the others had told him to. With a grunt, he emptied his large furry nuts into you, then pulled out and let Alvaro take his place.
Alvaro, being reptilian, had two hard cocks ready to sink into you. And he did so eagerly. Both of them were slimy and tapered and had no issue fitting into you, especially with Krash's cum having lubed you up so well. He went at a faster pace than Krash had or Baryn was.
Luckily, you were ready by that point. Baryn matches his pace since you were taking them so well. Both men whispered praises into your ear since you were taking them all just so perfectly. Alvaro claimed your mouth with his and snaked his long tongue into your mouth.
Your whole body shuddered around their dicks as you came again, this time from their cocks battering a special spot inside of you.
"So sex hungry, this one. Can't wait for my turn."
Mikael didn't have a long wait. Baryn and Alvaro finally unloaded into you simultaneously, a vast torrent of cum that started to bulge out your belly.
"Fuck, you're the best hole I've ever had!"
Alvaro pulled out after making sure he finished loading you with his semen.
"Yeah, darlin' we're gonna have to do this a lot."
With a loud squelch, Baryn lifted you up and swapped places with Mikael, who quickly settled you on his dick. The flared tip went in easily with how "well-loved" your hole was from your other three boyfriends. He had you facing him so he could kiss your fucked out face.
Your stare was blank, your face flushed, and the only sounds you could make was feeble mewling as hid large equine prick made an outline in your belly. He pressed your face into his armpit so that you could get a nose full of his pheromone laden musk. He needed you to reek of him.
After that, the horse hybrid bit at your neck, all while he pounded into you tirelessly. When he eventually came, it made your belly bulge further. When he pulled out an incredible amount of cum dribbled down his cock and onto his balls.
You were tired but remained conscious, your brain struggling to comprehend the violation that just occurred. Your body was limp. At least it made you easy to clean up.
"Girls just need dick to calm them down, I guess," mumbled Arvalo.
"Well, I reckon we know what to do when she gets bratty," Baryn replied.
They took you gently and cleaned you up in the tub, all of them praising you for doing so well. Once they had you clean, they dressed up in a cheerleader outfit. It was the cutest thing they had ever seen. It had been a wise decision to bribe your roommate Nat to get your measurements for them while you slept. You were embarrassed but didn't complain. You knew it wouldn't do any good. The will to fight had been thoroughly fucked out of you.
They each scented you and your clothing to make sure their combined smell clung to you. No one would dare touch their precious nerdy girlfriend.
When it was time for the game, they had you sit beside the benched players, right between some players they trusted. You looked down awkwardly the majority of the time with your tail curled closely around you. They won that game by a wider margin than they had won any game before! They chalked it up to their newly enhanced tradition of bedding you combined with your presence at the game.
It was certainly something they'd have to do every single time!
#yandere teratophilia#yandere terato#yandere x reader#monster boyfriend#yandere monster#yandere boyfriend#male yandere#male yanderes x male reader#male yanderes#multiple yanderes#My OCs#My OC Mikael#My OC Baryn#My OC Krash#My OC Alvaro#Male Bully Harem#Male Jock Harem#Yandere Bully Harem#Yandere Bully#yandere scenario#Yandere Fic#yandere male#Kinktober#Kinktober 2024#Yandere Kinktober
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always a winner — joe burrow
summary — you’re at an away show and can’t make it to the game against the ravens. with the frustration of the loss, joe can’t help but be upset.
warnings — fem!equestrian!reader, major angst, arguments, fluff, sad joe, self-degradation talk
note — look 😭 i’m sorry for the horse lore, i got a bit crazy with it (kind of self indulgent since i used to ride horses lol) but i hope it’s not too crazy for you! if it is sorry in advance!!!
YOU HAD TO BE CAREFUL to not let the silence scare you. the anticipation that sat in the air, eyes moving with the horses in front of them.
horse shows were both quiet and loud at the same time. the rounds themselves were quiet, all attention on the team below them. it was also because anything could spook a horse and derail the entire thing.
you liked the silence. it allowed you to think, to process the steps ahead of you. as you cleared another jump, you were 15 seconds away from snatching first place. as you rounded a corner, pushing your horse towards the final jump, you felt every move you made. your hips flexing, your thighs wrapping around your horse, your hands making room for your horse’s movements as you soared over the last jump.
“with a time of 1.15, y/n l/n snatches the first place slot,” the announcer speaks over the loudspeaker, cheers erupting from the crowd. you pumped your fist in the air, bringing it down to pat your horse. as you galloped around, wearing a bright smile, your thoughts wondered to your boyfriend, who played barely an hour away from where you were.
flashback
“oh, come on, i think you’re being a little dramatic,” you laughed on the phone, packing your riding gear up. joe was in his hotel room, prepping for the game that evening.
“i am not! i feel like a part of me is missing when you’re not here,” joe pouted, and you could hear the pout on the other side of the screen. you didn’t understand why players had to be in hotel rooms even when games were at home, but it was routine. you and joe were used to it.
“i wish i could be there,” you hummed, falling on your back onto your bed. you would leave for your show in about an hour, and by that time, joe would be getting on the field.
“me too, but you’re gonna do great. i want to hear all about it,” he smiled. he needed you there, though. he felt the loss in his chest, the ache of it all spreading across his body.
“oh you are,” you assured him. silence bred between you, unspoken words and topics fizzling into vision.
“on a serious note, joey, no matter what happens out there, i’m proud of you, ok? you’ve come so far, have done so well, and i am so so proud of you,” you reminded him. you knew that this season hasn’t been what joe wanted. the losses, the one win, he needed a win against the ravens.
“thank you, love. that means a lot,” he hummed. you were always in his corner, supporting him in the small and big ways. he just wished you were there.
end of flashback
you walked out, cheeks flushed and a proud smile on your face. a bright, blue ribbon was pinned on your horse’s bridle as you walked out. your coach came up and patted your horse’s neck.
“see what happens when i tell you to trust your gut?” she playfully smacked your thigh, causing you to let out a puff of air.
“yeah yeah,” you joked. your eyes met your friend’s, who came up to you with your phone in hand. you told her to keep tabs on the game for you, even though you’d watch highlights on the way home.
“it’s not good,” she started, which was a terrible start. your smile dropped, your heart rate increased, and the worst case scenarios started bombarding you. was it joe? is he ok? is he hurt? please tell me he’s not hurt.
“what is it?” you asked, dismounting. you held your reins in your hands as you looked at the score. 38-41. you were in disbelief. when you checked before your ride, they were in the lead. a good lead too, what happened?
your friend seemed to read your mind.
“evan missed the kick because the holder slipped his grip on the ball in overtime,” she answered. overtime? they went into overtime? you closed your eyes, pursing your lips. sorrow seeped into the cracks in your chest, bleeding down into your soul. you opened your eyes, fighting the tears that stung you. not here. people are going to ask.
you handed your horse to your coach, taking your phone from your friend. you knew joe was beating himself up. you knew he was going over every play, every single thing that went wrong. you knew that he was angry. he had every right to be. you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was thinking, the defeat, the pain, all of it. he worked so hard to get where he was, and to lose 4 games didn’t prove to the world joe burrow was back. you saw beyond that stat, though. you saw other numbers, like his passing yards exceeded that of mahomes and lamar. you saw his dedication, his work ethic, and his commitment to the sport and his health. you were so beyond proud of him, but you knew that he wasn’t feeling any of that right now.
—
the show packed up from there. horses were loaded, saddles were put away, and you changed into something more comfortable. you sit in the passenger seat of the truck, your coach driving you home. she picked you up, explaining that she didn’t want you to have to drive home.
it was sweet, and it also meant you got to see joe faster.
the truck comes to a stop in your driveway, and you can see lights on in the house. joe was home. of course he was, the game ended around 4 pm, and it was now 6. you gathered your things before stepping out, thanking your coach for the ride. you huffed, walking up to your door, trying to be as quiet as possible.
game day joe was unpredictable. if he won, he was in a great mood, and you usually celebrate in more ways than one. when he lost, he hid himself away, lost himself in film and away from you.
you’ve mentioned it, and he’s worked on it, but it was hard for him to be close to someone else when he didn’t even want to be around himself. you just wanted to be there for him, to hold him and reassure him that he was still good, that you were still proud of him.
you walked in the door, the silence of the house deafening. you softly shut the door, locking it behind you as you walked into your home. it was cozy. blankets were neatly folded across the couch and folded in the basket, pictures hung on the wall, and small items of decor that had joe and y/n etched all over it. it was home, but you couldn’t ignore the forgotten water bottle on the island or the strewn shoes by the door. you flicked your eyes upwards when you heard shifting, signs of life from your boyfriend.
“babe?” you called, slipping off your shoes and neatly placing them by the door. you walked into the kitchen, dropped your bag in order to fill up your water bottle. you heard footsteps, and then descending steps. you turned to see your boyfriend walk into view. he looked exhausted. his face was sullen, eyes void of any light, and his hands hung loosely at his sides. his hair was wet; signs of a shower.
“how was it?” he asked. his voice was hoarse, and if he was honest, he didn’t want to talk. he wanted to be left alone, but at the same time he needed to see you. you weren’t at the game, you didn’t see him after he walked into the tunnel, or after the presser. no matter how often it happened, he was never used to it. why weren’t you there?
“it was good, stayed on and was safe,” you answered. telling him you won first place didn’t seem appropriate, but you knew he’d ask.
“did you place?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. he knew you did, you always did. unlike him, you managed to win at your sport.
“i did,” you started, your eyes flicking over his form. he looked small, and not in the physical sense, in the emotional sense. he barely held eye contact with you, but he was standing there, with you. he looked like a little boy, dressed in a loose fitting black shirt and sweats. his expression was hard, his nose red and cheeks raw.
he nodded and turned away from you, starting back up the stairs.
“joe,” you called after him. his heart jumped in his chest; he didn’t want to talk about it.
“i don’t want to talk, y/n,” he told you, a little harsher than he intended.
“don’t distance yourself from me, please,” you stepped towards him, and he went rigid. you stopped, watching as he turned to face you, his eyes now full of emotions. anger, guilt, sadness.
“you’re telling me that?” he snapped. he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to go there. you didn’t deserve it. you were right, and he begged himself to stop.
“what?” your voice is small, confused.
“you’re the one who told me a week ago she was going to be at the game, you’re the one who spent all of her time at the barn this week, you’re the one who’s avoided me,” everything is crashing down on him, the loss, his failure, his undeniable need for you.
“i don’t go to the barn to avoid you, joey. you know that,” you reminded him, trying to keep some semblance of peace. his emotions were running rampant, and he was trying to control them.
“you’re there for hours, you’re not home when i get home, and i’ve ate dinner by myself for a few days this week,” he feels the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, the clench in his chest. joe knows you’re there for hours, and he’s never voiced having an issue with it. joe knew that he sounded like he didn’t make much sense, but nothing was making sense for him.
“joe, what-”
“you weren’t there! you weren’t there and i needed you there,” his voice raised, standing a few feet in front of you.
“joe, with my schedule and yours i can’t be at every game! i thought we were in agreement with this,” you defended. you watched as his face shattered, the wall coming down, the realization settling in. he thought he’d be winning by now, at least 2-3, but he wasn’t.
“but i needed you,” he whispered, but his anger was still present. he wasn’t angry at you, he didn’t blame you, but his anger at himself manifested into it being towards you. a single tear slipped down his cheek, his eyes red with the threat of more.
the silence between you was poison, seeping into your pores and creating the sour cocktail of anxiety. your eyes never left joe’s body, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the unshed tears, and the shattered look in his eyes.
you should’ve been there.
“i’m sorry i wasn’t there,” you started, fiddling with your fingers. joe shook his head, wiping his eyes and his nose.
“it doesn’t change anything,” he snapped.
“i know it doesn’t, but i can’t control my schedule, just like you can’t,” you told him. he knew you were right. he knew how it worked, yet his emotions betrayed him. that’s not really how it works. she just wants to have an excuse to not see you embarrass yourself.
he looked at you, his eyes puffy and red. his arms ached, desperate to be around you. his heart raced, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. the more he met eyes with you, the more his body relaxed. he swam in your expression, the softness of it but also the sternness of it. you’d defend yourself even if he was being unreasonable. his hands hung at his sides, his chest still tight.
he needed you, and you were here. now.
you gingerly approached him, watching as his head dipped to avoid eye contact with you. his chest heaved, his breaths clawing at his eyes; don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. your hand gently rested on his cheek, guiding him to look at you. his eyes met yours, and his heart lurched. he didn’t want to sob, but he couldn’t help it. a sob escaped his throat, and you pulled him for a hug. you cradled the back of his neck, fingers caressing his skin as he buried his face into your shoulder, tears cascading down his raw cheeks.
joe hated arguing with you. he hated it even more when he was the one to start it. joe knew you worked hard, he knew that your commitment to your sport matched his own, but with how vulnerable he felt, he just needed his safety blanket. he needed you to help put his pieces back together, to remind him of who he was. as his arms held onto you, keeping you close to his body, he felt his breathing settle and his heart rate slow.
after a few moments, joe pulled away, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. when you first started dating, joe didn’t cry in front of you. he didn’t want you to think he was weak, or that he wasn’t able to handle the load. as time went on, you became the only person besides his parents he’d cry to. he felt safe with you, he felt like he could give you his emotions and you’d take care of them.
your hands cupped his cheeks, one of his hands resting on yours.
“i’m sorry,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. your shoulders sagged, a small smile gracing your lips.
“i forgive you,” you hummed, brushing an escaped tear from his eye.
“i know we’ve talked about it,” he sniffled, “and i have gotten better at letting you in, but it’s not always easy,” he confessed. you knew that, it wasn’t human nature to confess your deepest feelings, even to those closest to you. it was a protective measure.
“it’s not going to be easy, but the important thing is that you try,” you spoke softly, your hands falling from his cheeks.
“i want to win,” he whispered, his eyes glazing over with fresh tears, “i want to win so badly, for the team, for cincinnati, for you,” he continued, his voice breaking.
“and you will, trust me. you will win, even if you’re already a winner in my eyes,” you tagged a lighter tone to your words, which caused joe to break out a small smile. silence fell between you, unspoken words oozing out of joe’s skin.
“i am proud of you, i always will be, but i do want to bring home wins too,” he added. you chuckled, grabbing his hands and rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles.
“who has the trophy in the basement?” you joked, earning a chuckle from joe, “in all seriousness, you are going to bring home wins. we win together, not separately. when you win, i win. we do this together,” you gave his hands a squeeze, earning a bright smile from him. you leaned up and pecked his lips, then his forehead.
“i am proud of you, joe. every step you’ve taken, every yard you’ve thrown, i am beyond proud of you,” your words sunk into his skin, reminding him of who he was. he was joe burrow, joe sheisty, the quarterback that brought the bengals back to life.
“i love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.
“i love you,” you hummed. the warm moment was interrupted by the growling of joe’s stomach. you laughed, jokingly patting his stomach.
“is someone hungry?” you chuckle, pulling your head away from his. he laughed, nodding his head.
“i’ve not eaten dinner yet,” he confessed, earning a smack on the arm.
“joseph lee!” you scolded with a smile, “as much as you speak on eating healthy, you need to practice what you preach,” you teased as you walked into the kitchen. joe followed, watching as you opened the fridge. you had leftovers from the previous night, so you pulled those out.
“i do! most of the time,” he rebutted as he watched you place food on plates. as you stuck one in the oven, he wrapped his arms around you again. he melted into you, all 6’4 of him. you ran your hand down his back, then back up to his hair to run your fingers through his frosted tips. the microwave beeped, separating you two.
“we should watch a movie,” joe suggested as you put the second plate in.
“like old times?” you smiled, remembering the movie nights in college.
“yeah, except i won’t commentate,” he assured you. both of you were bad at it, especially marvel movies, which made it amazing when you two watched movies together. with friends? oh it was terrible.
“i’ll believe that when i see it,” you replied. with your plates of food, you walked over and sat on the couch, turning on a movie. joe sat next to you, leaning his shoulder on you. you didn’t mind how clingy he was, you embraced it. you sat, ate dinner, and watched a movie. a comforting and familiar experience.
with dinner done, plates on the coffee table, the movie still going on, joe nestled himself against your chest. his cheek against your chest, listening to your stead heartbeat, it was putting him to sleep. your hands combing through his hair didn’t help either. joe eventually fell asleep, his face tucked away in your shirt and his arms around you. you kissed the top of his head, a smile on your face.
“sweet dreams, my love,”
rushed ending so sorry about that! i will say though, as work picks up for me i might not be writing as much. there’s also some other stuff going on too so that’s fun 🤪 so i will post when i can! hope you guys enjoy the writing before i get burnt out lol.
tags — @wickedfun9
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imagine thinking downpour is the worst when HOMECOMING exists
#konami pr rep jojo#we have a worst game now#doesn't matter which one of the nu-hills is worse#i still think it's homecoming#downpour at least tried something instead of badly copying hostel#but it was late 2023 when you made that video dog#Ascension was already running#it CANNOT get any worse#we did it#rock bottom#stop beating a dead horse when there is an even bigger and juicer dead horse you can beat with a more righteous fervor#or just stop making dumb videos#you do you
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What are somethings he does as a boyfriend 😋
Karma x Reader — Things he does as a boyfriend ୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 SORRY! As always very late :'(
— Gets you out of your comfort zone,
In the play E-Class did for the elementary school kids, he’s the one to suggest to everyone you play the lead. He convinces you by saying you can spend your day together.
Another example of this is going through with your assassination attempts. He is the first to volunteer himself to go along with your plan! Need a guy to swing from the rooftops? Get him a rope. Need someone to shoot? Give him the signal and he’s ready. Need horse tranquilizer? He knows a guy.
— Defends you when you’re wrong.
This one is very specific, I don’t think he’s the type to back out of an argument for anyone, it’s more like he’s defensive around people who criticize you. He just shoots out insults before you even have the time to react. Somehow he doesn't sound aggressive when doing it, comes out of his mouth way too naturally.
Terasaka for example: “How’d you miss that shot? Your aim is the worst I’ve seen.”
“Maybe [Name] can use you as a shooting target. Your heads big enough.”
— Can’t cook? He’s got you covered! His favorite dish is anything as long as he cooks it, with his parents often traveling he developed that skill really well over the years.
— He“buys” you the best gifts (he gets them in the weirdest ways.)
The same as the time he pulled out math equations when he was getting scammed by the stand owner at the festival until he got a console for free.
Half of his belongings come from his “Delinquent fishing” money, so most of the things he buys for you are probably from the same guys he terrorizes.
— An arcade gaming pro, anything you want he can win on the first try! If he can’t he will find a way to prove it’s rigged or faulty and get the manager to clear out the prize stock. He’s shameless.
It's October so Halloween Headcannons;
His favorite part of Halloween is going out of his way to scare people.
He’s going to go around scaring his classmates and making you participate. (Rio happily joins in.)
He'll put you up to trick someone else that way he can come behind you and scare you.
He makes you match costumes but they’re never cute. He has disturbing, taste. But who can say no to his offer???
— Competitive.
“Whoever gets a lower score on this exam has to buy the winner food!”
“Karma you’re only saying that cause you know I didn’t study.”
He buys you food if you lose anyway to cheer you up.
— Makes you his accomplice,
“[Name] Im a block away from your house, I need you to pour some hydrogen peroxide in a bucket”
“I am not helping you clean blood off your clothes again!"
“He hit me first! It’s my own mouth blood.”
“Ouch, you lost?”
“No, just get the bucket.”
#ansatsu kyoushitsu#karma akabane#karma x reader#assassination classroom x reader#karma akabane x reader#akabane karma x reader#assassination classroom#karma akabane headcannons#assclass#akabane x reader
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Dude yeah Solas going back to the prison is so dumb to me. Like I assumed before seeing Trick’s post they he and the inquisitor were going into the fade itself to where he sealed the dreams or whatever. But instead I’m going to take my wife to my divorcee empty ass apartment where the ghosts of my past call me a wet loser? What?
JHGKEJRGHKERJHGKREJGH no ur right. i think it genuinely only works when you look at it from a mythological story perspective rather than the two of them as individual people... which is interesting because their whole stories are kind of about how they lose themselves to the myth that surrounds them... so i think its supposed to be the ultimate conclusion of that.
they are at once both finally free of the burdens of the myths and expectations that follow them as the dread wolf and the herald of andraste because they have left the mortal world that forced them into those roles and stripped them of their personhood, but they have also completely submitted themselves to those roles by submitting to the logical conclusion of the myths that they could not escape. for the dread wolf, it is earning his redemption through his willing submission to his own trap. its the logical, full-circle mythological conclusion to the trickster who trapped the gods, now trapped for eternity himself (allegedly, he will prob eventually break out... even loki gets his freedom during ragnarok...). for the inquisitor, it is andraste's herald finally sharing andraste's fate, choosing to leave the mortal world behind to ascend to the golden city alongside the god that she loves. both (presumably, for a lavellan) have tried to reject the myths attached to them over and over and over, but in the end they choose them willingly, and that choice at once binds them to those myths forever while simultaneously freeing them from the burden of them. its giving oedipal greek tragedy of attempting to outrun your fate and it finding you anyway, just when you thought you were finally making your own choice, but with a hopeful and bittersweet spin. its actually fucking insanely brilliant when i think about it this way it makes me genuinely foam at the mouth.
however the major caveat to this is i do not think this is presented nearly clear enough in veilguard. the only reason i am able to create such wonderful, deep meaning from this is honestly because my bachelor's degree is in literature and i literally have formal academic training analyzing storytelling. and it took me like a week to actually sift through all this in my brain and go back and sift through lines and images in the game to support my analysis. it should not take that much work, it should have been more clear. because yeah, the first time you play it it absolutely feels like your girly pop lavellan is making the WORST, down-bad delulu decision of her life while the rest of the world is screaming GIRL DUMP HIM!!!!!!!! and im not suggesting im smarter than anyone for looking at it “the right way” or anything like that. im saying that i think in order to get the meaning from it that the writers intended, you have to look at it through a very specific literary lens, and that is something that most people are not going to default to… because why would you? the story should lead you there on its own. there shouldn’t be a niche prerequisite to enjoying the ending. a few more lines about people made into myths, much like those we got throughout inquisition, could’ve helped facilitate this. they did a great job of hammering in the regret and choice themes to the point it was like beating a dead horse with a stick. and there are a few good lines that kind of give this vibe (“you’re not JUST the inquisitor, right?” “they call me the dread wolf, what will they call you when this is over?” “there is no fate but the love we share,” a codex from felassan about solas being forced to play into the dread wolf persona, etc.) but they probably could’ve added a few more to talk about mythological apotheosis and choice in the context of fate rather than just in the context of regret, and it would’ve helped at least a bit.
so i fully understand peoples discomfort with the ending as a result. i think it’s a logical conclusion to come to based on how the story presents itself. however im pretty confident that this mythological vibe was tricks intention, based on a lot of their comments about their writing process and inspiration for solas, and the way they have written him overall. @corseque has a lot of amazing posts in her solas tag that talk specifically about the very deliberately mythological way that weekes wrote solas, and i think this is essential context for understanding the ending that the game simply does not sufficiently provide. it also definitely invalidates a lot of people's perceptions of not just their inquisitor, but the solavellan romance as well. however i hope me blabbing about how it can be absolutely brilliant when viewed through a specific lens might help people feel more at peace with it <3
#OK U GUYS HAVE TO STOP PROMPTING ME TO WRITE ESSAYS I HAVE TO GO DO WORK JERHGKJERHGJKREG#but thank u for this <3#solavellan#solas#veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#da:v spoilers#dav spoilers#mine.txt#meta#ask
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—I'LL NEVER WIN YOUR HEART.
pairing: alexia putellas x reader
synopsis: aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to alexia.
word count: 2k
tw: aNGST, spicy stuff, enemies to lovers to ……….?
a/n: wow has it really been a month since i last posted that's insane (i'm not being sarcastic i'm actually so shook at how fast time passes).
now playing:
Her eyebrows narrowed. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes lasered in like a hawk.
Even from across the club, several of your teammates knew to get the hell out of her way when she made a beeline towards you.
Alexia was scary when she was angry. There was an untouchable force to her that made one cower under her steely gaze. You used to feel the effect of it, once upon a time, but recently it was almost a weekly occurrence that she would direct her hardened gaze at you.
And now, as she fixed that deathly glare onto you, you felt your arm being yanked just as you were about to kiss the beautiful stranger you met mere minutes ago.
“What the fuck, Alexia!” Admittedly, you were buzzed, and any obstruction to your enjoyment would irritate you.
“Come with me,” she gritted her teeth.
“No! Let me go!”
She tugged on your arm and dragged you away despite your protests. The bathroom at the back of this club was filthy, and the door barely did anything to block out the thumping music outside, but Alexia pushed you into one of the stalls anyway, caging you in between her arms on either side of your head.
You had half a heart to slap her across the face when she shoved you against the divider and kissed you like a barbarian, lips and teeth clashing against one another in a heated mess. She had no right to do this, but her entitlement made it so you were trapped in her grasp again.
The worst part was that you enjoyed it, very much, especially when she went on her knees to do what she always did best.
It happened not too dissimilar to how it started. Your frustration mixed with her only ensured you both collided in the most spectacular way. You remembered arguing with her after a horrible game, both of you throwing blame at each other. It happened so quickly, that before you knew it, your hatred had turned to lust. Hatefucking, as one might call it. Suddenly, all you could think about each day was how much you hated Alexia and couldn't wait to fall into bed with her.
“You can’t just do that and pretend like nothing happened.”
Your words came out rushed as you were still trying to catch your breath. Alexia exited the stall and went to wash her hands, doing so with a frustrating nonchalance.
She met your gaze in the mirror. “Can’t I?”
You scoffed. “Why do I bother? La Reina never gets off her high horse, does she? You’ve never respected me, ever.”
“That’s not true.” Her eyes flickered, and you thought you could see unspoken words behind them.
“Then what was that earlier?” You asked, irritated.
“I should ask you the same question,” she said firmly. “I thought we were fine. And now I see you grinding on some girl at the club? I mean—what is this, Y/N?”
It was always like that with Alexia, and if she didn’t say what she wanted to say, then you couldn’t help her.
“It’s not like you care,” you gritted your teeth. “I hope you had fun with Olga, by the way.”
Now it was her turn to scoff. “She’s my friend.”
“She was also your ex.”
“Can’t I be friends with my ex? And who are you to tell me who I should and shouldn’t hang out with?”
She was right. You had no place in her life to be telling her that. It was purely your desire, or a lack thereof, to hold a special place in her heart, but maybe you were foolish to wish for it when there has been so much history between you.
You chewed on your bottom lip, a habit you had since you were young. You suddenly felt the bathroom walls closing in on you—you needed to get out of there quickly.
Wordlessly, you shoved past her and returned to the club, the music once again deafening and pumping in your chest. You expelled a breath; the cute stranger was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Patri and Pina, with whom you came. That’s fine, there was an entire nightclub’s worth of people. You would find at least one person who would make you forget how much you despised Alexia and—maybe for the night—how much you loved her.
The story could have gone so differently. You two were similar in age, grew within the ranks of the Spanish youth teams together, then played at Barcelona together. You both played in midfield and younger players looked to you for guidance and leadership. Yet, it was known among your teammates that the two of you couldn’t stand to be in the same room. Ever since you were young, your similar play styles and clashing personalities ensured that you always butt heads on the field, and eventually, off it too. You grew up with this hatred of Alexia, as she did of you, but you could barely remember why. You were brazen and Alexia was cold, and that never worked for either of you.
It seemed she had had enough of your attitude one day, and shoved you so hard in training you thought you might have sprained an ankle. Some of the other girls noticed her distaste for you and started to distance themselves to gain favor with her. Then, Alexia became the best player in Spain, and you were always in her shadow. The media called you her ‘healthy rivalry’, even when you played for the same club. If you didn’t hate her as much as you did, they all ensured that you would never be able to get along ever again.
There was a memory that you buried deep inside, but it would easily surface again on nights like this. It made you question everything you’ve felt for Alexia, this thorn in your side that has never let you know peace
It was the summer of 2012 at a Spain U-19 camp. You had barely gotten any sleep the night before you came because it was your first call-up to represent your country. Alexia, of course, had become a familiar face in the team by the time you arrived. She wasn’t seen at breakfast one morning, and a coach said that she was dealing with personal matters. What you didn’t anticipate was finding her sitting alone by the steps of an entrance bawling her eyes out. You had tried to retreat, but Alexia had looked up before you could go.
“S-Sorry, I’ll just—”
“Mi papá . . .” Her voice was quiet like she didn’t want you to hear. Then, she burst into tears again. You had never seen Alexia like this, so distraught and vulnerable. The friends she liked to keep around were nowhere to be seen either. She never liked to appear weak in front of others.
Against your better judgment, you approached and sat next to her. “What happened?”
Exhaling shakily, she answered. “He was very sick. I just got the call from my mom.”
Your mouth hung open, unable to form words. As Alexia smeared her tears away with the back of her sleeve, she suddenly appeared younger and unlike the captain that you’ve come to know her. She was just a girl, who’d had something terrible happen to her, and you would be the biggest jerk not to push whatever you had between you aside.
“I’m sorry,” you only managed to say.
She said nothing and rested her face on the inside of her elbows.
“I’m sure he was very proud of you.”
“Please don’t say anything,” she breathed out, making you wince.
“Okay.”
Alexia sniffled. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Okay,” you nodded slightly. You didn’t like talking about your feelings either. It was the first thing you found Alexia and you had in common.
You started to feel sick. Your head spun like you had just stepped out of a washing machine, but still, you reached for the passing bartender who looked at you with patronizing eyes.
“Another.”
“Y/N, that’s enough.”
You pushed her hand away, mentally cursing at her interruption.
“Fuck off.”
“I’m gonna have to explain to Jona why you’re still shitfaced at training tomorrow.”
“Fuck. Off. I don’t fucking care.”
Then, you heard her say something she had never said to you before. “Please. Let’s go home.”
The truth was, you never wanted to protest her. Maybe the years have softened you, but you didn’t want to admit how much you craved her affection. There were times when you despised her and thought her the lowest form of a human being.
“Please don’t do this,” you pleaded. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, as you watched her frantically spring out of bed.
“I—uh, have to go. I’m meeting someone for lunch.” She replied, reaching for her pants strewn across the floor.
“Ale, I’m sorry . . .” You managed a pathetic whimper, tears threatening to fall. “Can we just pretend I never said anything?”
How is it that she had made you feel so euphoric merely moments later, and now you felt like you had hit rock bottom? Only because those stupid words slipped out of your mouth.
. . . But was it such a crime to tell her that you loved her, when it was your truth?
You learned the hard way that Alexia didn’t want what you wanted. Maybe it was just her, or maybe it was you, and she didn’t want anything to do with you. If that were true, you were foolish to think for even a second that she would. You never gave her much to like anyway.
But still, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have any feelings for her. But aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to Alexia.
She had brought you back to your apartment, supporting you by holding you close and guiding you inside gradually.
The moment you hit the mattress, you groaned at the snugness of your own bed. Your eyes were barely open, but you saw the way she pulled your shoes off your feet and coaxed you to sit up so she could shed your outer coat.
But that was it. She was afraid to help you further, as it would resurface emotions Alexia thought should be buried, emotions that reminded her of sleepless nights and passion.
“Why are you so quick to get away from me?” You mumbled into your pillow.
You heard her sigh. “I brought you home, didn’t I?”
“Am I really that detestable that you wouldn’t even look at me?”
Her eyes met yours, but unlike earlier in the night, they now held a softness. “You know I don’t hate you. I never did.”
“Then stay.” You whispered, your head still spinning, but all you could focus on was her. “Stay with me. Please, we won’t do anything. I just don’t want to be alone.”
You didn’t care that you were begging her. You were tired of being pulled from end to end, and it was so much easier to love than to hate her.
You thought she would laugh in your face, pack her things and leave. Yet, when you opened your eyes again, she was lying in bed next to you, under the cover and all. She had changed into your clothes, so much more time had passed than you had thought.
“Go to sleep. We have training tomorrow,” Alexia whispered, her lips brushing your forehead softly.
You obliged, nuzzling your head into her chest as you let the comfort of her embrace lull you to sleep. You were too tired to fight it, to tell her no, that you would talk to her seriously about the two of you, even if you were drunk. It wasn’t the first time you had fallen for Alexia’s lies; all the other times, she left you in the dirt after giving you her everything for you to pick up the pieces yourself.
You hated her because you loved her. But maybe this is enough, you thought before sleep took over, just for tonight.
Maybe tomorrow will be different.
#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas imagines#alexia putellas angst#alexia putellas#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagines#woso angst#Spotify
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If the primarchs had social media
Lion: There is nothing on his accounts. Not even a profile-picture. Someone is still logging into them every so often. Fulgrim: On all the plattforms. Primarely family-blogger: look at my perfect kids, my perfect spaceship, my perfect partner, my perfect healthy breakfest, my perfect make-up. OnlyFans-account on the side. Get‘s into controversies all the time. Perty: Angry rants. Has spent to much time on Twitter. Old man yells at cloud type of stuff. Jagh: And this is how we‘ll break the speed-limit today! Talks about bikes, how to mod them, drives them around very fast, ect. Occasional horse-pictures. Leman: Puppies! Just cute dog-pictures and -videos, of every canine he encounters in the galaxy Rogal: He isn‘t very good at social media. Sometimes posts bad selfies or pictures of his building projects. Completly ignores all of Pertys hate-comments Konrad: He writes fanfic. Edgy, dark, not very good fanfic. The protag is a clear self-insert and Mary Sue and brings justice to all the settings he puts them in. A ton of spelling errors. The plot barely holds together. He is very proud of it. Sang: He has official accounts with pretty pictures of him everywhere, but he has some private accounts that are just like his art and sometimes cute family pictures. Also why can I see Sang having a Vtuber-persona he livestreams with so people don‘t recognize him? Ferrus: Appears on Fulgrims accounts fairly often. Maybe does some gaming-content on the side Angron: Everything is very sporadic and when it‘s there it‘s pretty angry. Surprisingly talks a lot about issues with his disabilities and that he needs way more help than he get‘s and also all his trauma. Struggles a lot with typing and forming sentences, so it can be hard to understand at times. Roboute: A channel with tutorials for stuff like running a planet or putting on armour. If people ask him to explain something he can just send them a link. Morty: Not very active, sometimes pictures of some funky plants and little texts about them. Magnus: Video-essays. He dissappers for months and then returns with a four-hour-video (minimum) about the most random topic. Hugely popular. Horus: Look at my sexy abs! Look at my huge bicep! Soft-porn-pictures of him and his sons. Probally also had OnlyFans. Lorgar: Social media is great for preaching! So he does that! Deletes all his accounts after monarchia. Vulkan: Food! He loves trying out new recipes from diffrentc cultures! At the start of every recipe is a pagelong story, which people actually read Corvus: Also writes Fanfic. Very, very good fanfic if a bit edgy at times. Kind of has a rivalery with Konrad. Also runs a very active blog, about both writing and justice, with occasional bits about guerilla-warfare Alpharius Omegon: Just the worst trolls. Dozens if not hundreds of sockpuppet accounts. They are having a good time.
#warhammer 40k#primarch#silly headcanons#lion el'jonson#fulgrim#perturabo#jaghatai khan#leman russ#rogal dorn#konrad curze#sanguinius#ferrus manus#angron#roboute guilliman#mortarion#magnus the red#horus lupercal#lorgar aurelian#vulkan#corvus corax#alpharius#omegon
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Long live the walls we crashed through
Max Verstappen x driver!reader
Summary: you are involved in a crash so horrid everyone assumes you couldn’t have survived.
WC: just under 2k
You honestly didn’t know what exactly had happened yourself. You remember when everyone was waiting for the rain to end, so the race could begin. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like the downfall was going to stop anytime soon. All drivers were instructed to wait on the starting grid, so you and Charles, who was starting P5 next to your P6, where keeping each other entertained by playing some stupid game involving a lot of hand gestures. “Okay, I’ve just received word they are going to try and start the race despite the wet conditions.” your engineer’s voice interrupts you while you here trying to gesture a horse to Charles. “What? In this weather? Are they sure?” What you really had wanted to ask if they were plotting to murder one of the drivers or if they were just plain stupid. You look over at Charles as you saw his body language change, you assumed he had just gotten a similar message. “They gave us some vague reasons about the fans waiting and keeping the fight for the championship as exciting as possible,” your engineer explained.
The race had started out boring, slow, and mainly wet. None of drivers really felt secure while driving so there were almost no overtakes, no battles for a better place, nothing to entertain fans. Not that you thought that mattered considering you were quite sure the track wasn’t even visible from the stands thanks to the rain. However, between lap 4 and 5 the conditions started to better and some battles emerged on the track and positions started changing. You had managed to overtake both Charles and George, leaving only a certain Aston Martin driver standing between you and a place on the podium. The weather was almost dry at that moment, but you didn’t realise, no, you were only focused beating Alonso and joining your boyfriend on the podium. (Because let’s be honest best-case scenario: he was first, again. Worst case? Second) What you also failed to notice was a red car behind you disappearing to pit for slicks, because his team was so sure it would stay dry.
Although what had occurred after happened in a blitz, you could still remember that part as well. The Ferrari driver had just joined the track again and was being separated from you by George, when suddenly, the rain came back. It didn’t start with a drizzle, no warning droplets, just from zero to one hundred faster than any f1 car could. You vision was now reduced to that of a senior mole, giving you indication about the location of the driver in front of you. Lucky for you, you were familiar with the track at this point, so you didn’t worry about crashing yourself, but an invisible man in front of you was plenty of worry. You could hear your radio turning on, but you never heard what your teams plan of action was.
Because unbeknownst to you Charles, his brand-new slicks, the rain, and a nasty sharp turn steered his car into the young Mercedes driver. It was only a slight, soft touch. Just a tick. A little nudge if you must name it. But in those bad conditions George started to spin. But before he had started to spin and before he had been touched by the Ferrari, he had shortened the distance between the two of you by quite a lot. So, when he spun it took less than three seconds to feel his car touch something again. Now this wasn’t a nudge this is where your memory gets a little hazy.
George’s car spun into you. You lost control as well. You went through a wall. You flipped upside down. The car broke in two. Fire. Lots of fire. You got out.
You got out. You don’t remember how you did it, but you lived, and you were standing next to the burning vehicle. Half in shock from what happened you couldn’t deter your eyes from the flames you were a part of moments ago. You stood there in complete stillness contrasting your team’s garage at the same time.
“Max please come in, red flag.” “Yeah, I thought I saw something in my mirrors. I saw some yellow tints. Was that fire? Is everybody OK?” “Just come in, please, we’ll explain then.”
Max jumped out of his car once he reached his team garage, where it was unusually quiet. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me over the radio?” Max already started asking his questions before he had even pulled his balaclava all the way off, so his words sounded more like scrambled mumbles. Not that it really mattered; his team knew what he wanted to know. “Wait, why did only I get called in?” he asked once he noticed your car wasn’t on the other side of the garage, where it usually would be if you had to wait out a red flag. Max averted his gaze from the empty spot to the mechanics, who gave each other looks as if to say “I’m not saying it. You do it.” “Max,” he heard Horner trying to catch his attention. Normally the presence of the team principal would make him wonder what was bad enough that he had to intervene himself instead of sending someone else to deal whit whatever the issue was. Right then, however, he didn’t have to wonder. His eyes had caught the screens behind the engineers displaying a view of the track. This wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary if it wasn’t for your car. Specifically, the back side of your car; he couldn’t see the front, but he assumed it must have gone through the barrier. “Along with you,” he couldn’t stop himself from thinking. Due to the fire, he couldn’t see or estimate the severity of the crash, but it did not look good. “You have her vitals, right?” he asked Horner, who had been tuning out ‘til now. “Well,” the principal began. “You’ve talked to her through the radio. Please. Tell me you know she’s alright.” Max said more as a question. At the lack of response his head started spinning. “We haven’t been able to contact her yet. No input about her vitals has come in since the crash.” Max stopped listening after that and just bolted to his driver’s room. Shutting the door behind himself, he was glad none of his team members tried to follow or stop him. Tears were already forming in his eyes while he turned on the small tv to be able to check on any updates regarding your crash.
Meanwhile you were already on your way to the team’s garage. You were surprised that no reporters intercept you on your way there, but you figured they were just focused on the crash site. You knew you should’ve gone to the medical centre first, but you felt fine and cared more to let everyone know you were alright. As you made your way trough the paddock, you start to wonder if people knew you got out of the car. They didn’t, you had no way of knowing this of course but at that time fire marshals were busy putting the fire out.
Max was watching them on the screen in his room, trying not to think about you in there. He almost threw up at the idea that you were still in there and that you might never come out, or that you might already be gone. He really didn’t want to, but he just couldn’t stop his mind frow straying to thought about waking up without you beside him, having dinner alone, never getting to complain about your shoes lying in the middle of the hallway again. His thoughts were about to make him physically sick when there was a nock on the door. He really didn’t want to be disturbed so he didn’t even bother responding. Another few nocks got ignored until he got fed up and shouted, “Leave me alone.” His request however got denied as a male voice sounded from the other side of the door. “We have an… update on the crash.” Max recognized the voice as one of the mechanics who was in the garage earlier. Although he was pissed off that he hadn’t been left to sulk in his misery alone, he was intrigued by the news, since there had been no new information shared on the broadcast he had been following on his TV. He also got scared, considering it was most likely that whatever it was it wouldn’t be good.
You were chatting to a still slightly worried Horner when you heard someone rapidly approaching you. You turn your head to see Max walking towards you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Hi,” you said softly right before he reached you. When he did, he just looked at you for a split second and then pulled you in his arms. He put is head in the crook of your neck, pulling you up to your tippy toes to reach it, and held his arms so tight around you that you believed it would leave a permanent indentation in your ribcage. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” you suggested, suddenly feeling the eyes of everyone around you burning in your back. “Okay.” Max said before almost dragging you into your driver’s room, considering it was a little closer by than his. He shut the door behind you and was back beside you before you could even bat an eye. “Are you alright?” he asks as he takes your face in both his hands. “I’m fine.” You pull one of his hands away from your face and just hold it. “You really scared me,” he said right before he pulled you in for a hug. “Well, I didn’t mean to,” you respond. “Just don’t ever do that again,” he says while he starts placing soft kisses on your face and head. “Wasn’t planning on it,” you scoff before pulling him in for a real kiss. You two stand there for a while, just holding each other, before you decide to rejoin the paddock.
“For a moment I really thought I killed you,” George confesses. Every knew you survived the seemingly survivable crash and the mood throughout the whole track was a lot less heavy than it had been a few minutes before. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that. Even if something worse would’ve happened I wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for a single second,” you explain. “It’s a risk we all take every time we get into that car and we’re all very much aware of it,” you add. “And it isn’t like I could leave anyway,” you smile. “why’s that?” George asks. “I mean who would play gestures with Charles before the races?” you look over at Charles before getting cut off by your boyfriend’s voice. “It’s not our fault you two won’t explain your made-up game to anyone else,” he protests. In response you and Charles give him a universal recognized obscene gesture while laughing to yourselves. While the conversation takes another turn you take some time realizing how lucky you are; not just for surviving the crash but for the amazing life you had. You wrap your arms around Max and lean you head against his upper body. “What is this for?” he asks but wastes no time in returning the gesture also wrapping his arms around you. “Do I need a reason to show I love boyfriend al of a sudden?” you playfully say. Max just smiles and says, “I love you too.”
Part 2
AN: So, this was my first ever fanfic so fee back and corrections are more than welcome. Also, I do have an idea for a part two so lmk if you would like that.
#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff
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"For someone who hates me, you're not pulling away."
Feels like this was MADE for Jake!
"You gotta be fucking kidding me," you muttered, praying your sunglasses would conceal what you were really looking at.
It seemed like a higher being was out to personally spite you. Because not only were you being forced to spend the whole day with the guy you hated,
He looked fucking hot without a shirt.
Of course he did. It wouldn't be fair if he had a physical flaw, the universe had decided it so.
It was supposed to be a bonding experience, pilots versus mechanics. Why was beyond you, considering you actually liked everyone in your current squadron.
Well, except one pilot. A blonde pilot. A cocky pilot. A pilot who thought the sun rose for them personally to shine a light on their ass. A pilot who had become the bane of your existence.
"Hey Rosie!" You ignored the nickname (all because you wore a fucking red bandana) he insists on calling you, turning to your coworkers instead.
"Your not so secret admirer has arrived," your coworker Nicole giggled.
"Please don't remind me. I already have a headache from him and the game hasn't even started," your index fingers rubbed your temples in a vain effort to soothe the dull ache that came from Jake Seresin.
"Well don't look now but he's coming your way," and with that Nicole walked away, no doubt to go flirt with Bob.
"Hey Rosie, looking pretty good," he pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, making it clear he was looking at you.
"You're going to get burnt with all that baby oil, Seresin," you stared at your phone, not wanting to make eye contact. Or to look at his broad chest.
"Aww, you care about me." He was close. Too close. You could see the hair on his broad chest.
"The same way one cares about a dying mosquito," you took a step away, hoping it would deter him.
Jake has the audacity to chuckle, "You're funny Rosie. Why don't we make this game a little more interesting?"
You raised your eyebrows in mocked surprise, "You're actually going to show good sportsmanship? I'm impressed Seresin, miracles really do come true!"
If your comebacks deter him, he doesn't show it, which is honestly the worst part. No matter what you say, it doesn't drive him away. No, it has the opposite effect, encouraging him to continue to try and interact with you!
Fucking Seresin.
"Nah, but God, you're real cute Rosie," he has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you hate so much. His perfectly white teeth are showing as he oozes Hollywood charm. It's the smirk that makes you briefly consider continuing to chat.
"What do you want Seresin?" You grumble, looking down at the sand. The warmth you felt washing all over your body was clearly the sun, nothing (or no one) else.
"Why don't we make a bet?"
"What are you, twelve?"
Again, he chuckled, as if he found your remarks amusing rather than insulting, "C'mon Rosie, there must be something you want."
"For you to leave me alone." If you had looked up from kicking the sand, you would have seen the assured look on his face fall, his brows knitted together in worry, the corners of his lips turning downward.
But you didn't, giving him time to remask, "Alright Rosie, if y'all win, I'll leave ya alone."
The offer made your head shot up, "And if your team wins?"
His grin widens, "You know me Rosie, I'm a simple man." Lies. "There's not too much I want, just one thing really."
"Just name it Seresin."
"A kiss."
He couldn't be serious. He was.
But your crew had prepared for this game. Nicole would certainly be able to distract Bob, was the dagger's dark horse. You felt good about your chances.
So you shook on it.
Which is how two hours later, you ended up in the parking lot, pressing Jake against his stupid Jeep Wrangler, your lips on his, hands tangled in his stupidly soft hair.
"For someone who claims they hate me, you're not pulling away," He murmurs, victory written smugly across his face.
"Shut up and kiss me Seresin."
"Anything for you Rosie."
#my writing#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#jake hangman seresin
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Yawne
Pairing: Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan x Fem! Dreamwalker! Reader
Request: Tsu'tey with a dreamwalker reader were they come up with human nicknames for him when they are training become one of the na'vi, and he's confused and asks jake. So when he finds out he starts calling her nicknames that are meant for mates or something in his language. Something that makes the reader flustered. If you want to.
Word count: 2.3k
Warning/s: none really?? just fluff bc tsu'tey <333
Note: tsu'tey i miss u man come back <3 Anyways, likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are much appreciated! Let me know what you think!
GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!
yawne - beloved
tìyawn - love
You face planted. Hard.
Groaning, you prop yourself up with your elbows. Your face was caked with mud from falling off your direhorse.
“Glad I’m not the only one falling off my ass.” You could hear Jake playfully say as he walked with Neytiri, going somewhere to teach him how to use a bow.
You could hear Neytiri smack him on the arm, muttering something else.
“Yeah, yeah, piss off.” You say with a light chuckle.
“You are not taking this seriously.” Someone spoke from above you.
Looking up, you spot the usual scowl on the man’s face, Tsu’tey. Soon to be olo’eyktan of the Omaticaya clan. The man you wanted to choke the living daylights of, at the same time he was also the man whom your heart started to beat for.
It was stupid, really, falling in love with your instructor, you knew your stay here would may as well be temporary, but you were going to make the most of it.
“I am, give me a break I just fell off my horse.” You grumble, standing up to meet his eye, well, you still had to look up from the difference in height.
“There are no breaks. How are you going to learn? You Sky People should just go away.”
You knew of his distaste in the Sky People, and you couldn’t blame him. You hated your own kind too. For now, you just played with him.
“I can’t, I know you’d miss me, Casanova.” The edge of your lip curls up in a smirk at the nickname you gave him.
Tsu’tey’s brow knitted together at confusion for the said nickname, yet he ignores it, jerking his head towards the horse. “Again.”
All you could do was sigh and hop on the direhorse again.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
As you got used to Tsu’tey being by your side, the nicknames you gave him started to get worse. However, you enjoyed the grumpy look on the warrior, it made you laugh.
“Where are we going now, Romeo?” You asked, trailing behind him through the forest, holding your bow.
You could hear his tall figure let out a ‘Tch’ before he kept going.
“Not even going to answer me, Romeo? Oh, you pain me.” You giggle.
“I do not understand what you are saying, woman.” Tsu’tey said, stopping and finally looking at you.
“That’s why it makes things more exciting, don’t you think? Since we’re spending all this time together.” You speak nonchalantly. Tsu’tey couldn’t believe how lively you were being.
And the worst part is? He’s enjoying it.
None of the young hunters he had trained had the personality like you, no. It was either they were too focused, which Tsu’tey liked, but the others were too scared or often other female na’vi would just flirt with him.
But he would rather feed himself to a viperwolf than let you know that he’d been enjoying this little game of nicknames of yours, even if he didn’t know what it meant. It made all the time spent with you more fun, like he said, lively.
Still, he was always reminded that you were one of the Sky People, another dreamwalker on their planet. But why was he feeling a certain way when you smile at him?
When you perfected something he taught you, why does he want to go to you and congratulate you by holding your hand and smiling at you?
Instead, what he does is nod at you, before making you do it again to make sure. He must remain professional, but why does his instinct crumble when it comes to you?
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Hold it.” Tsu’tey said to you as you held your drawn bow.
“Higher.” Tsu’tey commanded, but you didn’t follow. He bites the inside of his cheek before grabbing your elbow, your body inches away from his as he raised your elbow at the height it was intended. He never failed to notice the slight dark hue to your cheeks.
He backed away again, wanting to see your form. “ (Correct).”
You smile at him, and he almost smiles back at you.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The game went on and soon you’ve called him a bunch of names.
It ranged from honey, sweetie, sweetheart, honey bun, and a bunch more that Tsu’tey couldn’t keep up with. It made him curious, why were you calling him like that?
So, there he was one night after a feast, his eyes trailed to you. You were wearing their clothes and you looked even beautiful. You were currently laughing about something with Neytiri when the curiosity of his mind got the better of him.
Thankfully, Jake was just right beside him.
“I have a question, JakeSully.” He said to the man who seemed quite busy stuffing his mouth with food.
“Oh, sure. What’s up?”
Tsu’tey suddenly debated whether he should really be asking Jake. But as since the two of you were from the same kind, he figured he knows much more a lot about it than the others.
“(Y/N) keeps calling me things- things I do not understand.” Tsu’tey said.
“Oh? What things?” Jake replied.
“What does ‘honey bunch’ mean?”
At that, Jake could swear he inhaled some of his food as he broke out into a laugh.
Tsu’tey frowned, does it mean something bad? Were you making fun of him the whole time?
“Man, didn’t know she had it in her.” Jake laughed.
“What does it mean?” Tsu’tey said, slightly tightening his grip on the strap of his holster, awaiting Jake’s answer.
“Well, it’s a nickname, I know you know that. But its you know, something you call your… how do I put this?” Jake thought. “Like its something you call your mate only.”
Tsu’tey then felt his grip loosen at Jake’s words. All this time you were calling him names that were meant for your beloved.
Tsu’tey’s mouth went agape for a moment, before gulping and nodding. “Ah, I see.”
“Its also a way for her to tell you that she likes you, trust me, I know her.” Jake said before going back to eating and talking with the other na’vi.
He inhales, his eyes finding their way back to you, to his surprise, your eyes met his.
Then you smiled and waved at him.
He didn’t know how to respond, so he moves away from your gaze, busying himself with his thoughts that he missed your frown at being ignored.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You and Tsu’tey now sat in front of each other, under one of the highest branches in hometree.
He was teaching you how to speak na’vi.
“Nam’ake.” Tsu’tey said.
“Namate.” You repeated but Tsu’tey shook his head.
“Nam’ake.” He repeated.
“Nam’ake.” You said.
“Good.”
There was that smile of yours again. “You are learning well, tìyawn.” He smiles smugly at your confused face.
“What does that mean?” You ask him as he shrugged, smirking. “Hey, no fair, since when did you also start calling me names, huh?” You spoke.
“You started it first.” He was now being playful with you, which was a new thing , still, you enjoyed it, getting to see this side of Tsu’tey.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You just finally had your first kill as you closed your eyes, thanking a silent prayer to Eywa before mercy killing the hexapede in front of you with your dagger.
Tsu’tey watched, a proud smile on his face as you learned well from him.
“You are ready, yawne.”
You open your eyes again to look at him. “You got to tell me what that means.” You say, standing up, sheathing your dagger back into its holster.
“Maybe one day.” He replies.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
After countless days, you were now ready to be signified as one of the people, one of the Omaticaya.
Tsu’tey and Neytiri traced the white liquid onto you and Jake’s body.
You could feel yourself shiver as Tsu’tey’s hand dips into the bowl then traced a line down your lips. You could feel his concentration. You didn’t miss how his fingers lingered on your lips before removing them.
Tsu’tey was proud of you. Once you walked out with Jake, you could see all of the Omaticaya turn their heads towards the two of you. It made you shiver, you heart spiking as you made your way down.
You and Jake were still beside each other as Eytukan was in front of you. “You are now a son and daughter of Omaticaya.” He spoke in Na’vi. You stare at his gentle gaze. “You are part of The People.”
Eytukan both laid a hand on yours and Jake’s shoulder. You could feel yourself becoming one with them. Not just a person in an avatar body, but as truly one of the people. You see Neytiri clasps her hand on Jake’s body, a proud smile on her face, making you smile too.
Then you suddenly feel two rough, calloused hands rest their place on your shoulder and you immediately recognize who it was.
Tsu’tey.
And then a big feast was yet again held, celebrating becoming one with the people as you and Jake were now warmly welcomed by the others.
“Come, come dance with us!” Neytiri said, pulling you up from your sitting position. Your eyes widened as you gasped. “Neytiri, I’m no dancer!” You said, dark hue tinting your cheeks.
Neytiri smiled yet she was persistent as you already found yourself standing and being pulled along with her.
Tsu’tey didn’t miss the scene as his eyes followed yours, he watched as you began to dance along with the Omaticaya women. His eyes only focusing on your figure. He watched how you went from doing small moves into finally feeling yourself as your hips dipped and swayed to the drumming.
His eyes were only pried away when one of his friends talked to him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
After finishing the dance, you laugh, out of breath as you and Neytiri conversed, making your way back to your original spot. You had a few drinks in your system that you didn’t even realize was possible, leaving your face lightly flushed and feeling confident.
Reaching the destination giggling to yourselves, Neytiri playfully shoved you against Tsu’tey’s front. You gasped as your hands placed themselves on his broad chest to stop the impact as his arms instinctively reached out to catch you.
“Enjoy (Y/N).” Neytiri teases before going to Jake, pulling him up from his seat and dragging him somewhere. You gasp at her, laughing to yourself, not realizing a certain warrior was now holding your almost intoxicated self.
Your attention was now turned to Tsu’tey as you looked up at him. “Hi.” You greet with a sheepish smile, your hands still on his chest., lingering there for a few seconds before you retracted it, the same with Tsu’tey’s arms.
You then tried to move beside him to sit when he suddenly grabbed your arm, making you stop and look up at him again, your breath hitching in your throat.
“(Y/N).” He said your name with his thick accent, his voice almost lower than its usual tone. “Hmm?” You inquired. Before you know it, he was leading you somewhere away from the people… somewhere secluded yet beautiful as the bioluminescence glowed and you could hear the trinkling of water somewhere nearby.
Tsu’tey did not know what he was doing, but he guessed it was time to say it, before everything was too late.
But he feels his words melt away as he saw you standing there, your hair was down in cascading waves from them being trapped in a braid for too long, you were wearing a top adorned with little flowers and vines as they littered your chest. You were looking around, your face in awe, admiring the flowers that glowed and the ground beneath you glow as you stepped.
Think straight. Tsu’tey tells himself.
Moving towards you, he reaches for your arm.
You glance at him with a smile. “It’s beautiful here.”
“(Y/N).” He speaks again. You listen.
“You are one of the people now. You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree,” He began, but the next thing he was going to say felt heavy on his chest. He looks into your eyes to find you staring at him. He opens his mouth.
“And you may now choose a man. The Omaticaya has made men into fine warriors, protectors, like Atsìì.” He spoke.
You recognized Atsìì, also one of the fine warriors in the Omaticaya clan.
But the way your face lit up at the mention of his name made Tsu’tey regret mentioning him.
“I know him,” you say, making Tsu’tey’s ear twitch but he ignores the gnawing feeling in his stomach. “But I don’t see him that way.”
He instantly felt relieved that he almost let out a sigh, he almost gave himself away.
“But there is this fine warrior.” You spoke, never taking your eyes off him as he listened.
“A very fine warrior who has a strong heart.” The drinks you had were really taking its effect on you as you slowly smiled at him.
“And he has taught me many things,” You decide to push your luck and place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart as you inch your face close to his. “He taught me how to love.”
Tsu’tey’s hand rests themselves on your hips as he fully realized who you were talking about. You were talking about him. Him.
A proud smile slowly makes its way to his lips, his fangs showing as his tail flicked behind him. “I taught you how to love, hm?”
You nod, smiling at him. “You did, tìyawn.”
Tsu’tey’s head tilt at you upon hearing the word. You giggle, coming closer as he leaned down, your lips almost brushing his.
“Two can play at that game.” You whisper before his head dips and your lips connect.
#tsu'tey#tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan x reader#tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan#avatar tsu'tey#tsu'tey x reader#tsu'tey imagine#tsu'tey x you#tsu'tey x y/n#tsu'tey imagines#tsu'tey avatar#tsu'tey fanfiction#avatar x reader#avatar 2009#avatar 2009 x reader#avatar 2009 imagines#avatar the way of water fanfiction#avatar the way of water x reader#avatar the way of water spoilers#avatar the way of water#avatar the way of water imagines#avatar way of water#the way of water#atwow x reader#atwow imagines#atwow x you#avatar x you#avatar 2#avatar fanfiction#𝐲𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ❁
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Wow. Whoever is in charge of Netfix' Avatar doesn't remotely understand Avatar. No, that's too generous. They seem to be failing Writing 101. As in basic character arcs, narrative progression, flaw being the catalysts for self-discovery and character development, layers of character expression that are not explicitly spewed out or as it is sometimes is called 'subtext' and 'depth'. Like... I don't get it. If they gonna strip the show down even more, all they are going to be left with are bare bones of logistics. Characters A, B and C traveled from Location 4 to Location 6. Riveting. /s The worst part is something else, thou. It is this quote: "that’s part of the process of going from a Nickelodeon cartoon to a Netflix serialized drama" as in 'cartoons are not real drama, it's simplistic and for children'. It's the same high horse, patronizing stuff Halo TV Show showrunners have said. Basically meaning that games are not real cinema or real art. It all reeks of snobbism and faking humility.
Saw this yesterday and it’s just a fucking giant red flag. Game of Thrones has done so much damage to creating fantasy media.
The gang won’t go on as many detours to go ride elephant koi - great, I’m so desperate for the world of avatar to be depicted in the most dark, depressing way possible.
I don’t remember anyone begging for another live-action avatar. Once was bad enough, so a lot of the excuses of “Yeah we had to make changes for live-action” immediately makes me say “Well, you didn’t need to make it live-action at all.”
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