the fact that Spain called up a 17 year old boy who barely played 5 minutes and had one decent match instead of Sergio ....
might as well just admit that it's personal at this point. The disrespect in this country for their legends ....
also good job Barca... overplaying another child for money and ruining his body and career
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❝ well if i’m all yours then kiss me like it. ❞ - geralt
JEALOUS, FIERCLY PROTECTIVE & TERRITORIAL PROMPTS
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆ || @worthystill ( Thor & Geralt )
GERALT WAS A MESS. His whole life was just one, big, fucked up mess too and he couldn’t be assed to do anything about it. He’d resigned himself to his fate as a witcher ages ago and if not for that damn bard he met months back, most would still hate his guts. And why shouldn’t they? He wasn’t the friendliest. All he cared about was getting his coin, some ale and the ocassional romp to remind him he wasn’t the monster people thought he was. Otherwise, nothing mattered until he met the warrior.
Geralt was still tripping over the fact that somehow he managed to attach himself to some god-like warrior who, in the beginning, looked to be nothing more than healthy competition. Well, Geralt SAID healthy but it was more or less rooted in bitterness. If a capable warrior was roaming these parts, that meant less coin for a witcher if he took a few jobs too. It was frustrating to think about, but most of his own ire melted once he realized the warrior was likely just like him… well, minus the monster part. No one could ever look at Thor and deem him a monster.
Geralt probably shouldn’t have fucked another broad alongside him. Probably shouldn’t have shared his favorite tavern wench alongside him. It was after that very poor decision ( or the greatest depending on which way his thoughts lingered ) that he began to notice some things Jaskier would likely sing a song about for shits and giggles if he knew. Even now Geralt was trying not to think about what he noticed and how — for a split moment — he wondered what it would be like to touch another man. To touch him. Be touched by him. For a warrior ( a god in his mind ), he didn’t move like clumsy killer. Each touch to Thor’s lover was gentle, using fingers, teeth and tongue to coax the most out of her. Geralt usually didn’t care. That is to say, if he was having a shit night, he didn’t spend all that much time caring about someone he paid good to fuck. He just got off. Hoped they did too and then slept. Wash. Rinse. Repeat in the next town over.
Thor had him shifting uncomfortably in his tight leather britches and at the time, Geralt couldn’t be sure if it was because of the scene playing out before him or the man creating the scene. He was a confused mess then and a confused mess now except Thor wasn't stupid. Not that anything had happened between them... nothing significant anyway. As far as Geralt was concerned, he'd been reasonably detached like always. That is, if you don't count the way he once snuggled closer to the god in the night after witnessing one of his night terrors. Geralt didn't know much about comforting others. He was fucking dreadful at it, but despite that, he felt the need to throw an arm around the god-like warrior's mid holding him close. Warm bodies always made Geralt feel a little better. Maybe the same was true for Thor.
That was only one time. But then Geralt had a nightmare of his own and woke to find Thor curled around him too. The sensation left an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It begged questions as to what the FUCK Geralt was doing and if he was going mad. Probably his own fear of CATCHING FEELS talking but he'd gone down a rabbit hole not so easily buried now.
Maybe signs had been there for a while. Truth be told, Geralt had always been shit at reading signs. How was he supposed to know a bit of bro snuggling could mean potential interest in other things? Wasn't like he caught Thor gawking at him the way he himself always fought to keep his eyes glued to his own weapons whenever Thor took a bath. He'd fight it, but Thor didn't make it easy with how comfortable he was in his own skin. And so now he found himself at a crossroad, watching the other male chat it up with a few boys in the tavern. They were handsy. Probably innocent in nature but Geralt wasn't thinking clearly. Too much ale. That was his excuse anyway.
❝Calling it a early night,❞ he muttered brushing past them. He hit the stairs and closed himself in their shared room, peeling clothes from his form for a more comfortable sleep.
❝Never thought I'd see the day when jealously lurked within a witcher's gaze.❞
Thor's voice had his attention, but Geralt played it off, shrugging as he moved to seat himself on the bed. ❝I don't get jealous. You're mistaken.❞
❝And you're a horrible liar.❞
❝How could you know?❞
❝Oh, I don't know,❞ Thor began. ❝Could be because we've only been traveling together for a few months. Think I haven't noticed the way you look at me?❞
Geralt chuckled softly, keeping his gaze towards the floor. ❝You're mad if you think I---❞
❝Stop. You've been wrestling with this for weeks,❞ Thor accused. ❝For a witcher, you truly are dense. How many warriors do you know would let you snuggle with them if they were bothered with the idea of further intimacy? How many do you know actually share a bed every night?❞ Thor scoffed, dropping his hammer by the door. He crossed the room standing over Geralt as if to challenge him. ❝You want me to be yours and that's fine, but if I am all yours then kiss me like it. Kiss me, or humiliate me. On my honor, if I've misread the signs, I will go back downstairs and---❞
❝---that won't be necessary.❞
Geralt stood, his height nearly mirroring Thor's own. Thor was a bit taller and normally that would have made Geralt feel some type of way ( pride and all ), but to keep Thor from sharing a room elsewhere, he did the un-fucking-thinkable. He grabbed his face, drawing him close in a manner that screamed 'mine'. Lips brushed, adrenaline pumping furiously through the witcher. Those yellow eyes of his turned dark, a sure fire way to know you're either moments away from being dead or awakening another kind of hunger.
The initial brush of lips is hesitant, as if the witcher is cautiously figuring things out but it doesn't take long for him to remind himself that the other warrior might leave. He doesn't want that so he forgets. He forgets all his own internal struggles and fears about evil feelings and just goes for it, kissing Thor in a manner that is FAR TOO SOFT for his own liking. But he can't help it. Weeks of lying next to a man with his own fears have programmed Geralt to treat him softly --- like he MEANS something. And maybe he does. Geralt doesn't know. He just knows his lips are moving... his hands falling to rest at Thor's waist and he's enjoying it. He's enjoying every fucking second of it and would rather die than break the light that is this moment.
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I hate how fandom has become "if you haven't created anything in this very specific time frame after the release of the show/movie, everyone will have moved on"
And call me old fashioned, but that's just not me. I sometimes take ages to create and publish. And I will love a show or movie for such a long time (years, babes, years) that I just can't relate to the fast consumerism that's going on.
Because, let's be real, it can get really lonely in a fandom if most have simply moved on to the next shiny thing. Is what's created less worth, just because it was created outside the hype? Why is it such a taboo for this new fandom generation to love an old or "late" fic or art?
It's so tiring and I'm too old for the 30-seconds-hype-tiktok-shit. Just tired. So, so tired.
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some of yall will be like “i dont care about your dreams, i dont care about your spotify wrapped, i dont want to hear about your interests, dont you dare talk to me about your trauma,” and its like. what do you even have friends for. bc it sounds to me like you dont give a shit about anything that makes them a person. what do you talk about.
important addendum: if you cant read and you leave a dumbass comment on my post im just going to block you 💛
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