#reblogs off because I will be unfriendly about this post

[kabbalicgay]

Jesus christ goyim are braindead I just saw some cunt - word for word - saying "the Jews are talking about Egypt, they MUST BE planning on invading there to!!!!!!!!!!" like cunt. It's Pesach in a fucking week. Y'know. The holiday about the Jewish exodus from Egypt. As written in the Tanakh. The very well-known story that most people - Jew or goy - know about. You useless fucking moron.

[electricfied-wolf]

Hey! Fun Fact! Fuck off if you're going to reblog a post of mine and shit on the thing I'm positively posting about in the tags! I am rapidly approaching your location!

[distortionenby]

Unfriendly reminder that Jude Perry is canonically an Asian woman. Stop drawing her as the whitest bitch ever.

(edit: the reblogs are turned off because someone added something completely unrelated about a different character and a very different issue that took the focus off of the problem with Jude being whitewashed. I do not want that addition of the post to be spread around because I noticed how the people who reblogged said addition reblogged it only commenting about the other character as if completely ignoring the initial post.)

[mr-orion]

☆I heavily appreciate comments/reblogs on my work☆

Here's My ArtFight!

Who made my profile pic?

My Comms are finally open!

☆ Lgbtqia+ friendly ☆ POC friendly ☆ any other minority friendly ☆ Disability friendly ☆

Fujioshi UNFRIENDLY ♡ Terf UNFRIENDLY ♡ "LG community" UNFRIENDLY ♡

Turn on your notifications for me ♡ plsplspls (you really dont have to, i do shitpost a lot when I'm not drawing)

Otherwise I can add you to my taglist so you will only see the FINISHED things I make. This will not include sketches. (Primarily art, sometimes writing!) Just comment or drop a private ask saying you want to be added. Additionally if you want to be removed then just say so, no hard feelings.

If you make original works add me to YOUR TAG LIST. TAG ME. YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION, I WANT TO BE TAGGED IN ART AND WRITING AND ADJACENT THINGS. IDC IF WE'RE STRANGERS.

My DM's are open, feel free to strike up a conversation about anything. I will not respond if your blog is ageless/underage. I understand I'm very cool and all but practice internet safety and do not message adults privately online. Just because I don't have bad intentions doesn't mean other people don't. If you'd like, you can send me an ask instead!

☆About☆

Hi! I'm Orion, he/him, 20.

My favorite color is pink, I adore my black cat, and I love drawing and worldbuilding. I don't tend to spend a lot of time posting so you may notice the worldbuilding bit is lacking. I plan to start publishing more writing!

I typically scower the OC art tag for new artists to follow. I try to leave comments and likes everywhere! Occasionally asks for my mutuals too.

☆Tags☆

Here are some general tags I use

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My textposts are rarely tagged. Stumbling upon them is a privilege

☆Writing Tags☆

🚧 ;l under construction 🚧

☆OC List☆

I get asked a lot if people can draw my ocs. YES! I usually draw something back if I have the chance too (no promises). I do ask that you do not whitewash my OC's, especially Mzamaki. It's incredibly awkward as it has happened way too many times for me to be comfortable with. His coloration is based on what I think is most aesthetically pleasing, and very intentional. It kills my excitement to see a free work of art get it wrong, and y'know. I can't really complain because it's free, so it just sucks... I don't believe it's an intentional message of whiteness being better, I will always give the benefit of the doubt. I strongly don't like it though

Art trades are always welcome too

My OC's are grouped by who they most interact with. Additionally if there have been any posts made about them they will have a hashtag

Favorites are highlighted in blue, but tbh, I love them all

#mr orion Ray

#mr orion Icarus

Quinn

Luciel

Maurice

Rika

Achilles

Cameron

Brenda

#mr orion Caelum

#mr orion Avin

#mr orion Armir

#mr orion Apache

#mr orion Liam

Marshall

Fantasy OC's

#mr orion Mzamaki / #Mzamaki

#mr orion Rhian

#mr orion Baron

#mr orion Lezna

#mr orion Neve

#mr orion Elliot

Lastly #mr orion misc oc one off characters and designs

[jellogram]

Okay inspired by that other post I reblogged earlier, here are some tips for going to gay bars alone (when you just want to meet people and hang out).

My advice:

Go earlier in the evening.

I like to get there by 8pm at the latest but any time between 5-8pm has worked for me. Most people aren't drunk and trying to score yet, it's quieter, and your bartender will be less busy. This is a good casual conversation time. Plus, you can get a little buzzed and still sober up in time for work tomorrow if that's your plan.

If you end up having fun and want to stay out late, great! But you can also dip out by 9pm and that's fine too. Not everyone goes to bars for the late night partying.

If you don't know where to sit, sit at the bar.

Sitting at the bar by yourself is a general signal that you are open to chatting with people next to you. If your bartender isn't busy (which they probably aren't, if it's before 8pm) then you will also have a chance at getting to know them a little bit. Some are a bit gruff, but lots of bartenders start bartending because they like the social aspect.

If you're really nervous, go during an event.

Most gay bars have karaoke nights and/or drag shows on certain days of the week. Many bars have a different event every night of the week. It's harder to chat and make friends during events, but if you're really nervous about sitting there alone, you can break the ice by saying you're there for the show. And once the show starts, there's less pressure to be social.

You are not the first person to go there alone.

Gay bars are full of people who don't know where else to go. If you are queer and you walk in there alone and say "Hey I'm new here, I just want to meet the other gay people in town," that will make total sense to everyone. If you're lucky, you'll say it to someone who already knows the regulars and can introduce you. Sometimes bartenders are really good at this, if they're friendly enough and not swamped.

Be open to talking to anyone you meet.

Now obviously if someone is a creep or an asshole, you can ditch them. But what I mean is that you shouldn't brush someone off because they're a different age or different flavor of queer than you. I'm a gen Z dyke and some of my favorite gay bar conversations have been with middle aged gay men and drag queens. Open your mind, ask questions, and understand that you're all part of the same community and can find some common ground.

But if you REALLY don't like the vibes there, you can leave.

Not every gay bar is going to feel like home. Some are a bit cliquey, some are mostly for cruising, some are super dead, some have music that is too loud or drinks that are too expensive or staff that's unfriendly. That's okay. Try to find another one, if you can. What's important to remember is that you didn't fail, you're not chickening out, and this isn't a lost cause. That one just wasn't your vibe, and that's fine! Keep trying.

It's also okay to chat for a bit, realize your social battery is out (or that you just can't handle the situation anymore for any reason), and then take off. It's okay. You did the scary thing! Next time it will be easier.

And PS - you don't have to drink. Mocktails are becoming increasingly popular, and plenty of cocktails have dry versions. Your bartender can help you.

Have fun!

[the-wize-1]

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 3 - The Interrogation

Chapter Summary: Cat is interrogated, which is mildly annoying. And the redheaded lady won't stop pointing a gun at her. Rude. Do they think she's a terrorist or something?

Chapter Warnings: Hints of child abuse flashbacks, guns, swearing.

Notes: Thank you for such a positive response on the last chapter! Please keep reviewing/liking/reblogging if you enjoy! Next chapter is posted Thursday 5PM PST! Happy reading!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

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December - Safehouse

The first thing Cat noticed was that she was tied to a chair. It was a really uncomfortable wooden chair, which didn’t make sense because all of the furniture in the room had been cushy and well-made. Did they reserve this chair just for tying people in? What made it more uncomfortable was that her hands were bound behind her back and her legs were each tied to a leg of the wooden chair. Another rope wrapped around her torso, binding her to it completely. She felt helpless, like a trapped fly stuck in a web.

And yet, the most noticeable part of her predicament wasn’t the chair. It was the muzzle of the gun, which was focused right above her left eye, obscuring half her vision.

Cat’s breath quickened. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears. Her insides were trembling like Jell-O. For a few seconds, fear was so overwhelming that she couldn’t move.

The only thing she could think of was Trevor had a gun, Trevor had a gun. He’d kept next to the liquor cabinet, behind the tequila. That made her think of the time she’d spilled one of his beers on the carpet. She’d realized her mistake before the bottle hit the ground. Trevor had been yelling his head off about a stain. With shaking hands, she’d tried to mop it up but only succeeded in spreading it. That crazy look in his eyes— wild, furious, insane. One second he’d been beside her, the next she was staring at the unfriendly end of a gun. Her entire body had frozen, locked in place. She couldn’t move. She’d thought for sure he’d shoot, and for a moment welcomed the darkness—

Cat squeezed her eyes shut, trying to forget. Except she couldn’t forget. She could never forget. Instead, she pushed the memory away— by now, she was a master of this— and shifted her attention to the voice behind the gun. It was a woman’s voice. Low and raspy.

“...come in, Barton. There’s an intruder in the safehouse.”

The woman seemed to be talking to another person, but as far as Cat could tell, she was the only person in the room. She hadn’t seemed to notice that Cat was awake yet. She stayed very still, heart pounding against her ribcage.

The woman’s voice paused. “Yes, I’m sure, because I’m pointing a gun to her head.” She glanced down, saw that Cat was awake, and muttered something unintelligible in another language, sounding like either Russian or Ukranian. (Cat had learned both one time when she was bored.)

Cat struggled wildly in the chair, trying in vain to escape. She couldn’t, of course. The ropes held strong.

“Rise and shine,” the woman said, bending down so that her piercing green eyes bore into Cat’s own.

Still shaky from the memory of Trevor, Cat hated that her voice trembled when she spoke. “W-what the hell, lady! Why do you have a gun?”

“Don’t move,” the woman ordered with an off-putting calmness.

This was no time to be scared. Cat counted off the beats of her heart as it slowed.

“How can I?” Her voice was even again. “You tied me to a chair. You couldn’t have tied me to one of those nice sofas?”

Taco, she remembered. Where was he? While she spoke, her eyes did a quick scan of the room for him. She was relieved to see him dozing behind a corner, hidden from view. She prayed that he stayed that way, and maybe the woman wouldn’t shoot him. Cat didn’t know what kind of psychopath would shoot such an adorable beagle, but she wasn’t about to take any chances with this woman.

She was clearly dangerous. Dark red hair, intense eyes, prominent features. The way she held the gun told Cat that she likely had shot many things before, perhaps beagles even more adorable than Taco. She was wearing some type of strange black leather catsuit, like spies did in movies.

“Are you a spy?” Cat blurted, then thought, Damn. ADHD impulsivity.

“I ask the questions here.” Her voice now had an edge to it; it was low and threatening. “Now, I’m only going to ask this once. Who do you work for?”

Cat was caught off guard. “Huh?”

The woman rolled her eyes, momentarily losing the edge. “Did I or did I not just say that I was only going to say it once?”

“Okay, no offense, but what’s the point of only saying it once? Is that like, a power move or something? And it seems kind of inconvenient, especially when you insist on asking vague and confusing questions. Those should be asked at least twice!”

The woman shoved her gun into Cat’s head. (Cat fought down a sea of memories. Trevor, Trevor, Trevor.) “Answer the question.”

“I don’t work for anyone! I’m ten. Who’s gonna hire me to do anything?”

“How did you get in here?” the woman demanded.

“I— what? I don’t know— I used the door, I guess.”

“It was locked. How did you break in?”

“What is this, an interrogation?”

The woman looked at her like she was unbelievably stupid. “Yes. That’s literally what this is. Did the gun and the fact that you’re tied to a chair not make it clear enough?” She leaned in closer. “Do you need me to break a bone to prove it to you?”

Cat leaned as far away as possible. “No! No, please don’t do that!”

“Excellent. So you should have no problem answering the question.”

Cat squirmed uncomfortably. “Uh, well— I wouldn’t say I broke in. I feel like that’s a strong phrase, you know? Kinda makes me look like a criminal…”

The woman’s gun clicked against her head. Involuntarily, Cat flinched. “Talk, or I shoot.”

“Jesus! I picked the damn lock, okay? Look, I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t steal anything— I mean, I did steal some things, but technically I haven’t stolen anything because I haven’t left this place yet, which means that the things I stole— I mean, didn’t steal— are still here. Making them unstolen.”

Cat’s gaze landed on the empty tray of peanut butter chocolate cookies. She felt a stab of guilt. Maybe it was best not to mention that specific part of her breaking and entering. Not that it mattered— the woman looked like she was going to kill her anyhow.

“What did you take?”

“Nothing!”

“You have ten seconds to tell me the truth.” The woman started counting at an alarmingly fast pace. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

“Those aren’t mississippis!” Cat protested.

For a second, the woman paused. “Excuse me?”

“In school, you’ve gotta go, ‘One-mississippi-two-mississippi-three—’”

“I’m going to shoot you.”

Cat caved. “It’s all in the bag!”

“What bag?”

“It’s a hideous pink backpack, covered in stupid butterflies!”

The woman’s arm reached out, and for a second Cat thought she was going to slap her— Operating on instinct, she flinched, hands going up to cover her face, only to be restrained by the ropes binding them to the chair. But the woman hadn’t laid a hand on her. Instead, she’d grabbed Cat’s backpack from the couch behind her. Although, she did frown at Cat’s reaction.

“You mean this one?”

“Yeah,” Cat said, relieved.

The woman stared at it a moment. “You’re right. It is hideous.”

“I didn’t pick it. My uncle did.”

“Your uncle has terrible taste.”

“Thank you— hey!”

The woman was emptying out the contents of the backpack on the floor. All the first aid supplies, snacks, and clothes she’d carefully positioned so that it just fit inside spilled out. Finally, wads and wads of money spilled out from the bottom. Twenties littered the floor. The woman didn’t seem to be finding what she was looking for— what she thought Cat stole.

“I didn’t steal all of that!” Cat said quickly. “Only the food and the rest of the supplies. The clothes, the money are all—”

“Money you stole?” the woman demanded.

Cat instantly backtracked. “No! Well, yes, I stole it— but not from here! I took it from my uncle Trevor’s apartment when I ran away. Trust me, if you knew him, you’d steal his money too.”

“What did you steal from here?”

“Just food, band-aids, water— that’s it, I swear!”

“Let me rephrase myself. What else did you steal from here?”

Suddenly, the door flew open and a man barrelled through the door. He was dressed in a black uniform as well, but it was different from the woman’s. His was a bulky vest, with only one sleeve covering an entire arm. His exposed forearm on his other arm had an armguard. He held a compound bow in his hand, with a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

“Help! Help!” Cat yelled at him. “This crazy lady’s trying to kill me!”

The woman frowned at her. “That’s a little insulting.”

“You know what’s really insulting?” Cat fired back. “Pointing a freaking gun at me!”

The man pointed at her with his bow— Jesus Christ, what was it with today and people pointing dangerous weapons at her— and glanced at the woman. “Please don’t tell me that’s the intruder.”

“Of course it’s the intruder. Why else would she be tied to a chair?”

The arrow man paused. “You’re kidding, right? Natasha— she’s just a kid, barely out of kindergarten. She’d can’t possibly be the target. If anything, she looks like a homeless kid, who accidentally got inside the safehouse. ”

Although she didn’t have the slightest idea what they were talking about, Cat felt a spurt of indignation. Barely out of kindergarten! She knew she was on the smaller side, but why rub it in?

“Just a kid! I’m not just a kid. And what makes you think I can’t be the target? If I wanted to be the target, I would be the target! Only, I’m not the target because I don’t even know what that is!” Then, unable to suppress a dig at his garb, she smirked. “Nice outfit, by the way. Is it Halloween already?”

Arrow Man gaped at her. He turned to Natasha. Cat turned to look at her as well, just in time to see her wiping a faint smirk from her face. “Did I just get insulted by a kindergartener?”

“She’s not just a kindergartener,” Natasha pointed out, face stony once again. “She’s an intruder.”

“I’m an intruder, and I’m not in kindergarten,” Cat interjected. “I’m in the fourth grade.”

“I don’t give a sh—”

“Natasha!” Arrow Man protested. “She’s a kid! You can’t swear in front of a kid.”

“Stop calling me a fucking kid, please,” said Cat.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Arrow Man, who was slack-jawed. “The kid just swore in front of the kid.” Then she told Cat, “You know, people generally stop talking when a gun’s being pointed at them.”

“Right, sorry.” Cat stayed silent for two seconds before piping up again. “Speaking of guns being pointed at heads— can you, like, not? You’re making me uncomfortable.”

Natasha sighed to Arrow Man. “I hate children. Let’s gag her.”

“Then how would we get any intel from her? How did she get in, anyway?”

“Claims that she picked the lock. She’s obviously lying, because we just got the new high-security ones installed.”

Arrow Man coughed, and did a very bad job of pretending he wasn’t avoiding eye contact. His voice had notably raised in pitch. “ Well… ”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Her expression read You idiot. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Not really.”

Her tone sent a shiver down Cat’s spine. “Barton.”

Aha! So his name was Barton. Cat filed that away for future reference. Probably a last name.

He winced. “Okay, so there’s a slight chance that I forgot to—”

Before he finished his sentence, Natasha started cussing him out in a language that Cat recognized as Russian. Violently. And quite graphically. To put it lightly, some of the things she was saying were not PG. She’d lowered her gun, gesturing wildly in the air, but Cat was too open mouthed to even think about making a run for it. The whole thing probably lasted twenty seconds.

“Jesus, Natasha!” Barton gasped once she ran out of air. “There’s a kid right there!”

“So? She can’t understand it.”

Cat scoffed at her. “Shows how much you know. I understood every word you said.”

Barton shot Natasha an I told you so look.

Natasha was more skeptical. “Oh, really? What did I say, then?” she challenged.

Cat repeated it back to her.

Natasha and Barton both stared at her. The woman regained her composure first. “How do you know Russian?” she asked suspiciously.

“I learned it.”

“Why?”

“I was bored.”

They exchanged a look. Neither looked like they believed her.

“If anything, this proves my point,” Natasha told Barton quietly. “Why would a random kid off the street know how to speak Russian if she wasn’t…” She trailed off, exchanging a meaningful expression with him.

A new understanding flooded into his face. “You don’t think she’s…”

“Maybe,” Natasha muttered darkly. “They have been known to take in kids.”

“Wait a second,” Cat said. “Who’s ‘they’? You think I’m a terrorist, or something?”

“Or something.”

Arrow Man regarded Cat thoughtfully. “She’d have to be a pretty amazing actor, if she is what you think she is.”

“But I’m not!” Cat exploded. “I swear I’m not!”

“Then prove it,” Natasha said coolly.

“How can I?” Cat asked desperately. “It’s not like I have a sign hanging above my head that reads ‘Not a Terrorist!’”

“Sounds like a you problem. Whatever it is you’re going to do, you better do it fast. You have two minutes before I decide to kill you.”

Barton leaned into Natasha to whisper, but Cat still caught what he was saying. “You’re not actually going to murder her, right?”

The woman elbowed him hard in the ribs. Cat could tell it was painful because of the way his face twisted. She was a better whisperer, because Cat couldn’t make out what she said in his ear.

Natasha frowned at her. “What are you waiting for? You have a minute and forty seconds now.”

Cat started spilling her entire life story. If there was one thing she was good at, it was talking and talking fast. “My full name is Catalina Gray. I’m ten years old. I’m not a terrorist. I used to live in California but then six months ago I had to move in with my uncle Trevor in New York. And New York is horrible because everyone’s mad all the time, except for Trevor, who was drunk all the time, and that lady Kimberly tried to get me to a foster home, but I was like ‘No way Jose’ and I ran away. And for like a week I was homeless but I think I’m getting better at it. And then yesterday I was looking for a place to sleep and then I found the alley and that’s how I found the door.” She stopped for a breath.

“It was pitch-black outside,” Natasha pointed out. “And the entire wall is painted black. There’s no way you saw it.”

“No, wait, I didn’t! Taco did!”

“A… taco told you where the door was?” Barton asked dubiously. He turned to Natasha and whispered conspiratorially, “Sounds suspicious to me.”

Natasha raised her eyes to the ceiling.

“No, Taco’s my dog!” Cat suddenly had an idea. She called out excitedly, forgetting that there was a woman pointing a gun at her. “And he’s right there! Taco! Taco! C’mere!”

Taco’s head lifted. He bound up excitedly and ran over to Cat, leaping into her lap. He didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

“Aww,” said Arrow Man. “It’s a beagle! I’ve always wanted one of those.”

Natasha looked like she wanted to elbow him again.

“Yeah, aren’t they adorable?” Cat beamed at him for a moment, recognizing a fellow dog person, before remembering that they were both trying to kill her.

Natasha snapped at her. “The dog’s adorableness is not relevant. How did you get past the door?”

“Right, so after Taco noticed the door, I picked the lock with my knife—”

Natasha glowered darkly at Barton. He made a face at her.

“—the door opened, and I just assumed no one was in here, so I thought it wouldn’t do any harm to take a long around—” She paused. “And you know what? I ate every— single— freaking one of those peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and they were delicious.”

“What did you say?” Arrow Man demanded. He seemed to notice the empty tray of cookies. “There’s not a single one of them left?” He turned to Natasha. “Who does that?”

Natasha sighed, finally lowering the gun and jammed it into a holster. “This is ridiculous.”

Cat wondered how long she’d been holding it up for, and how sore her arms must be. Was she even human? Despite this unanswered question tugging at her, she felt like a huge pressure had been lifted off her shoulders. Now that the threat of the gun had drained away, she could feel the tension in her shoulders loosening.

“Does that mean you believe me?”

“It means that the probability that you’re a sad little orphan who just happens to know Russian is higher than the…” She paused. “...other alternative.”

“What Natasha means to say was,” Barton corrected, “she was wrong and I was right, as always, and she’s very sorry and won’t threaten to shoot you ever again.”

“Well, she’s very annoying, so the probability that I might shoot her in the future is actually quite high. Plus, she ate all of the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and that’s an offense I’m not sure I can forgive.”

Cat smiled uneasily. “That’s a joke. You’re joking, right?”

“I take peanut butter cookies very seriously.”

“She’s joking,” Barton reassured her, then added under his breath, “Probably.”

“So… can I be untied now? This chair really is uncomfortable.”

Natasha and Barton exchanged a glance, like What are we supposed to do with her?

Cat groaned. “You’re not seriously going to keep me tied here? I already told you, I’m innocent!”

“Except for running away, breaking and entering, and admitting theft,” Natasha said.

“I never admitted to stealing.”

“You did. Several times, but that’s not the point.”

“We still have a mission to finish,” Barton muttered to Natasha.

“There’s only one more target. It’s not crucial. Only one of us needs to go,” Natasha said, straightening. “So one of us can stay behind and get rid of her.”

Get rid of her? What did that mean? Kill her? Sedate her? Throw her in the river? Cat wanted to know. She didn’t voice her questions; she doubted they would answer her anyway. The way they were talking about “missions” and “targets,” it was safe to assume they were either spies for some covert government agency. Which made them a) dangerous, and b) slightly impressive.

Which probably meant that their definition of “getting rid of her” was definitely leaning towards the “killing her” side.

Which was bad. Obviously.

Cat needed an escape plan. Her eyes darted around the perimeter of the room, seeking sharp objects she could use to untie herself. But even if she did manage to do that, how would she escape without them noticing? By the looks of them, both were well trained and had a large number of weapons. She wasn’t even armed. It was hopeless.

Barton and Natasha were too busy staring at each other to notice her looking around for an escape route, seeming to communicate solely through their eyes.

Suddenly, Barton yelled, “Not it!”

Natasha groaned. “The rules of ‘not it’ do not apply here.”

His voice lowered, so that Cat had to really focus in order to hear it. “You know I’m the better choice. We both know long distance isn’t your thing.”

“I can handle myself with a gun.”

“Yeah, but face it, I’m better. I’ve got these babies.” Barton patted the quiver of arrows. “What, are you scared of me leaving you with some kid?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not scared of the kid.”

“You totally are, though. You’re scared of the kid.”

“Shut up, moron,” Natasha murmured in Russian, so low that Cat could barely pick it up. “I’m not.”

Barton slipped her a cheeky grin. “Sounds like everything should be fine, then. See you in a bit.”

Natasha grabbed for his wrist. “You can’t just—”

Barton was prepared. He yanked his arm back just in time to escape her grip, dodged the punch she threw at him, and backflipped over the couch. It happened so quickly Cat barely had time to register that it happened until it did. Within seconds, he’d swiped a can of Pringles from the mess left on the floor that Cat’s backpack had made, and was out the door.

Natasha swore angrily after his retreating back, this time in a language Cat didn’t recognize. She could tell she was swearing because of how she said it, though, like the words were something disgusting that she was spitting out.

“Um, hi,” Cat said, in case the woman had forgotten about her.

Natasha’s gaze flitted back to her, but it was so furious that, for a moment, Cat’s words got stuck in her throat.

“Any chance you’ll let me go now?”

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Notes: Thank you to everyone who read this story so far! Please comment or send me an ask if you have any thoughts! Natasha made her first appearance so I’m curious what you think of my portrayal of her! I'm still new to Tumblr so apologies if there are any formatting errors and stuff! Next chapter on Thursday!

[eoinmcgonigal]

So I saw a post about tumblr wanting to try this 'communities' thing, and I just gotta vent/say my piece. (the tl;dr is 'fuck that shit')

1. I really hate the current trend of fracturing and fragmenting things down into little pieces so they can be categorised into boxes. That's not natural. (Also, discord pushing threads, which I already detest for 1) making me feel like I'm gonna hurl from the violently dissonant, ugly layout, 2) the severely narrow topic problem, and 3) how neurodiverse-hostile they are.)

Like, naturally conversations meander. If you're only allowed to discuss one topic, it's gonna be stifling. You WILL run out of things to say. Making another little box isn't going to fix it, it'll just add to the clutter

2. Quite importantly, honestly, just stop fucking changing shit. It's unnecessary

3. It's not going to be neurodiverse-friendly. As if fandom hasn't changed enough to become increasingly unfriendly to people who are just here to enjoy their hyperfixation and/or special interest. I don't need another thing to learn to navigate. I don't need another place with different rules to carefully traverse. Yes, I'm fandom old and salty. I'm AuDHD and a spoonie with about half a spoon to spend on a good day. I do not have the energy to do all this switching about and jumping from thing to thing. It's exhausting. I want everything where I can find it, and where I can be passionate without having to perform tasks like it's some customer service job, or job interview

4. FOMO shit is toxic. This whole 'be a part of the thing!' necessity if you want to 'engage' or see the conversations and 'content'. Why? I guess it's a social media model that drives engagement, but the stress of it is going to fuck people up. What if you don't have the time, energy, health, spoons, social skills, etc? I have no idea how much interacting will be expected with other people in the 'community' but I can see it becoming a twitter-like circlejerk, and if you're not one of the 'in' crowd doing your required interaction/reblogging/commenting then you might as well not exist to that fandom/group

5. From the description, it looks like these things will be ripe for drama, toxicity, clique shit, becoming echo chambers, etc. because 'semi public' means you gotta opt in/join in some way and whatever's said isn't visible to any old user

Like, who is going to create and mod these things? Who decides what the rules are? What if your fave is 'problematic', or your kink is 'gross' (if nsfw is allowed at all), your take doesn't fit with fanon, or you are just a bit weird and people shun or turn on you for that?

I hope I'm wrong and either these things never happen or they're not as bad as I fear, but fuck sakes I have the above worries because it's shit I've seen happen time and time again, and I don't want to see given a place here

Also, genuinely, what the fuck is tumblr going to be like if you can't/don't want interact with these community things?

Quickly, 6. it creates an 'us' (in crowd) vs. 'them' (not part of our gang)

And then 7. who is going to be dominant in these 'communities'?

Yes, I'm upset right now, because tumblr was just fine (well, fine enough) until this point. I mean:

We have the ability to make sideblogs! (My Star Wars sideblog from... well a decade ago oops... is still out there, I don't touch it any more but I left it up for people to go through). Tumblr even made it so we can reply with sideblogs, which was a very neat update.

Tags!! I don't think it's as usual these days for people to go through tags to find new content, but that's how I do it, how I've always done it, and how I always intend to do it. I'm not following everyone who makes an SAS:RH post. I love you guys, but no. My dash would cause me to have a panic attack. It's already too much for me most days.

EFFORT!!!! I can be here every day full-time doing Stuff if I want! Or I can zone out for weeks if I want/need, materialise and contribute a silly meme, then drift off into the sunset again. If I 'miss' anything, I can go back through the tags, or scroll someone's blog. But honestly, who notices/cares on here if someone lurks or goes afk for a bit. It's super low pressure, because I'm doing what I can/want when I can/want

I want to opt in/out on my own time and terms. The thought of having to be part of a 'community' so I can see/not miss Content TM is freaking me out. I don't want there to be an 'appropriate' time window to interact with things like there is on other social media sites.

So, idk how the shit will look, but I don't agree with making things harder for people to access/find. I won't be posting stuff 'semi-privately'.

And you know what's super upsetting? The thought that I won't be able to see conversations and creations for things I love, because they're hidden away behind some complex new social thing I can't navigate. (Which is already an off-putting, ostracising problem on discord.) That's not how fandom communities should be.

The thought of there being less stuff 'out there' because it's in some 'community' somewhere... really not the direction I'd ever hope this site wold go in

I'm fuckin exhausted. Just lemme do my fandom whateverness without having to perform to some arbritary social interaction standard/requirements that I neither understand nor can do

[actofgrxce]

So, OFMD is my all time favorite show and I am in love with every single character and have been wanting to try and join the fandom as Stede Bonnet, but I am SO nervous. Only because you, and several others, are just so incredible and I am intimidated but ahhh, I want to do badly write as my pirate princess. Any advice? Or just go for it? I’ve been writing for years, but graphics/theme making are not my forte.

Hey, friend!! Thanks for the kind words!!

I would just GO for it, with the understanding that there's a learning curve to the "rp etiquette" of Tumblr (and some users, as is the way with social media, will be more forgiving and flexible with "mistakes" than others). I would introduce yourself, as you have done here, to people who seem fun and chill, and express your interest in interacting with them IC. 1) Tell them you would be writing Stede. 2) Read their rules page (usually there is a pinned post at the top of a writer's blog offering a mobile-friendly link to their rules, which is basically how they prefer to interact with other writers, how often, in what format, what the writer's or "mun's" triggers are, etc) and tell them that you have: this seems to be a real sign of good faith around here. 3) Collect a small list of people (maybe 4 or 5) to start with, and follow them. If your rp blog is a "sideblog" to a main account, also let them know that, so that when a non-rp blog (you) follows them, they know who the heck it is! I cannot underscore enough how important it is to find people with whom you jive ooc, as yourselves. It simply will not be fun if you don't. So take your time with this part! 4) Make your blog. Customize your theme as much or little as you like, but a good rule of thumb is to at least make an "About the Muse" page (muse's story), a "Rules" (do's and don't's of interacting with you) page, and a "Verses" (discrete story timelines, usually grouped by how much you adhere to canon or by romantic "ships") page. Your muse is a "canon" muse: that is, a muse that already exists in the official fandom universe. 5) If you don't have it already, GET XKIT REWRITTEN (a browser extension that lets you alter Tumblr's increasingly perplexing and user-unfriendly interface, lol. There are versions for both Chrome and Firefox. 6) Start writing. You rp on Tumblr by reblogging a person's IC (in-character) post to your blog, and adding a text reply. They then reblog you. And so on and so forth. Here is where you consult their rules page to know things like: are they okay if I trim posts? Are they okay with me dm'ing them to ask for replies? What's the most courteous way to use tags in order to easily find past writing or filter my blog? How explicit can writing with this partner get re violence or s*xual themes? Etc. Everyone is different.

Re making your blog fancy: You do NOT need to be well-versed in Photoshop, themes and coding in order to run a blog. A lot of people now rp on Tumblr Mobile, where theme graphics don't show up anyway. Those who still use graphics vary, but most of us really don't care if our writing partners use them as long as we can continue to do so.

However, if you're still anxious, I've got a couple graphics and rpg sources right off the bat that can help you tremendously:

@poohsources (your one stop shop for EVERYTHING theme, icon, rp etiquette, formatting, etc related. A very kind soul) @octomoosey (best free blog theme coder on Tumblr!)

and if you're willing to pay for codes and graphics, I can also recommend a few good friends.

Also, if you have further questions, come to me. My anonynous ask option is usually on. <3

(Anyone reading this, feel free to add on your suggestions!)

[darkeneddawningmain]

Reblog chain removal rant

I just spent a long time composing this message about removing reblog chains to submit as feedback to Tumblr's help center and wanted to share it here as well. It's pretty long so I'm putting it under a read more, but I hope this post encourages more people to submit feedback to Tumblr about what a bad idea removing reblog chains is.

I'm here to add another voice to the protest against removing reblog chains. There are a lot of things I wish was better about Tumblr (direct links to posts from the post header and being able to pause videos instantly on mobile at the top of the list!), but by and far the worst change Tumblr could ever make is to take away reblog chains.

By taking away reblog chains, Tumblr would be losing the entire essence of what Tumblr is. People have already illustrated this really well in posts (which I hope staff have seen), but getting rid of loved features to become a worse knockoff of other sites is the worst possible decision to make. It will not result in the users of the original sites Tumblr is trying to mimic abandoning the sites they're already established on to join Tumblr. The other sites already have their community ecosystems and brand recognition that people will not want to abandon just because Tumblr is suddenly operating in a similar format. All the change would do is drive away Tumblr users that are here for TUMBLR.

Even non-Tumblr users appreciate reblog chains! Have you not seen screenshots of funny and classic Tumblr posts circulate the web, beloved specifically for the collaborative reblog chain format? Tumblr has always been a source of engaging and satisfying content in a way that other sites share to feed off of, and it’s precisely because of Tumblr’s post format. In comparison, when people share screenshots of Twitter posts and threads, it’s obvious how much clunkier posting to Twitter and also sharing posts from Twitter is. (I refuse to call the site ‘X’ btw)

When people post to Twitter, they have to either make sure their message fits within a finite character limit (which works for small zingy posts, but ONLY the ones they can make fit), or they have to break up their message into many pieces, which is so clumsy.

1) The poster must compose their message in segments, which can cause problems if they realize they want to edit earlier parts of said message because it’s already been posted. It can also cause problems if they (like me) have ADHD and forget what they’ve already said if they can’t see the whole message at once. Workarounds like composing in a separate program are inconvenient, and posting long messages still requires many steps (e.g. cutting messages into character limit sizes and posting each individual tweet)

2) Readers have to be aware enough to see and/or find all of the parts of the message, which people will often miss or not care to follow up on.

3) If anyone wants to add to a thread, they can only reply to a single tweet, and then go through the same process of breaking their message into pieces. This means that anyone reading the replyer’s thread would have to follow a link to the original thread if they want to see all the context, and that’s just inconvenient enough that people would rather not.

4) Anyone who wants to share these threads via screenshots has to make sure they have all the tweets in the thread. Do they also navigate to other threads to additionally screenshot further context? What if the poster still has more to say and hasn’t finished their thread? Not to mention how much wasted space there is in these screenshots since each tweet is separate and has its own UI around it.

That got into a bit of a rant, especially since removing reblog chains doesn’t necessarily mean Tumblr will enact a stupid character limit, but I hope my point that Twitter is NOT a better site than Tumblr was made clear. People sharing Tumblr screenshots and laboriously trying to convey longer messages on a platform that is unfriendly to them goes to show that reblog chains are not confusing or overwhelming to anyone. If anything, Twitter’s format is far less intuitive and people have just been forced to get used to it. Many people HAVE to use Twitter for work; people feel like they have to since it’s the current dominating social platform; people think Tumblr is dead and not an option anymore, etc.

In conclusion, making posts less convenient to see the full context of at once is a HUGE slap in the face to your loyal userbase that has been sticking around specifically for Tumblr’s engaging collaborative platform. It’s a pointless cut to functionality that is not enticing to anyone, even the people you’re trying to entice. I hope the people in charge can recognize this and not move forward with the idea. Thank you for your time.

[papirouge]

why are people still buying iphones? its well known at this point they use slave labor and that they also engage in planned obsolence, not to mention all their updates and changes theyve made to their products that are user unfriendly and done to charge people more. like at this point theres truly something wrong with iphone users, but oh im sure the superior camera is worth it 🙄

All phone companies use slave labor, let's get real. But iphone planned obsolescence is more visible bc the release of their new phone seem more quick than those of other brands.

I never own an iphone (and never will cause these wireless earphones look absolutely stupid lmao) and I have no doubt they are extremely performant (especially photo quality - I heard iphone photi quality was better). This whole apple apps/cloud synch makes them very handy to share files which is why it's its the phone of choice for influencers, but that's it.

When I was taking my marketing classes, my teacher was pushing me to own an iphone for those reasons. She didn't seem to know Android that well, and when she was trying to explain to me some stuff she was like "i don't know if you can do it on Android" and I could. It's just that it was a bit different do to it. I think the "superiority complex" some iphone havers have comes from the lack of knowledge of how android work and they think they do less. My teacher on twitter occasionally reblogged a post clowning Android users with someone being like "my hair is a mess, my nails aren't done, I feel like an Android 😭" which is very interesting bc she also retweeted post saying that androids users were obsessed dunking on iphone unprovoked 🥴

I really liked her bc she came off like the typical iphone user projecting their own defensiveness over apple for android lol

Android business model is entirely different than apple. Android opts for accessibility and customization (same for Windows). Apple is more exclusive and need a dedicated app system. These are different need for different type of demographics, so it's stupid to pit them against each other.

Interestingly you won't see apple users be that much defensive about Mac computer against Windows like that (which would be understandable bc unlike android, windows legitimately sucks). Why? Because it's the influencers/cool/rich people's phone - Mac don't have that much of a cool image (it's more the computer of tech/industrious people). They are so defensive of iphone because they want to defend their status of belonging to that club.

Android users don't have this worry of defending an image bc this system is shared by multiple phone brands with different brandings.

[kannibalkaiii]

Unfriendly reminder that if you in any way tweet, reblog, or post something to do with the glorifying of animal abuse and harm... you're dead to me...I will drop your ass so fast.

I don't owe anyone an explanation but it's easily my biggest trigger...due to childhood traumatic events that haunt me to this day...I wasn't able to "drop" and "remove" these people (or protect the poor animals) when I was a scared child but i sure as hell have the power now and will not put up with it.

Honestly.. if you're someone who doesn't value nature and animals im pretty sure you're not someone id want to associate with anyways.

We all get to curate our online experience here right? So i never feel shame for removing ANYONE who makes me uncomfortable

I've been a bit more talkative and confrontational with friends that squick me out (kinkwise) just to set boundaries, as healthy friendships should go ofc

...but I'll never be ok with anyone who wants to harm creatures

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Off topic but it's my rant/vent post so deal

If you're someone who sees a trans person and automatically sees them as fetish bait or solely for their body parts...get the fuck out of here...remove me

To you it's "oh sexy...my kinks...my stories/art" but I struggle daily with my identity, finding comfort in my body, and TRYING to be proud of who I am... it's so hard to trust ppl and be open around them especially after experiences with creeps and s/ex/ual abusers growing up...

If you only see us for what's in our pants then I don't want anything to do with you...especially if your first/only thought upon seeing trans people is reproduction related I cannot stress this any clearer...GET OFF MY PAGE...(like the above states...I couldn't get away from that perversion growing up but I can now)

I AM proud of my body and feel loved by my close friends and my boyfriend. I don't need a pervert following me and imagining gross shit about me solely because of my bits... if that sounds like you...then get lost, pathetic waste and go find somewhere else to be a disappointment

[marginaletchings]

10 FANDOM GRIPES/ADVICE

Actually now that I’m on my fandom bullshit again here’s some general gripes I think any fandom can identify with:

1. Your headcanon/interpretation of canon is not canon. You will be much happier if you stop seeing everyone else in bad faith and being aggressive or passive-aggressive to people who don’t share your same interpretation/headcanon. Trust me, your drama levels will decrease if you put this into practice.

2. Just because you dislike something doesn’t mean it’s bad. Just because you like something doesn’t mean it’s good. This also goes for other people, too. Some people enjoy garbage and they know it’s garbage-- do NOT confuse them with the people who don’t understand something is garbage and are obnoxious about it. The former hate the latter too, believe me.

3. Loving something in spite of how poorly executed/written it is, is a thing. Loving something because of the potential it could’ve had is a thing. But you have to be willing to admit that your hope for a piece of media’s potential does not equate a good execution on the part of the creator(s). And once again, just because there’s some good substance there, does not mean it is above reproach or critique.

4. Critique/criticism are NOT BAD THINGS. I know it can be all too easy to take critique as “shit people have to say that’s always negative” and frankly, a lot, a LOT of “critique” is just unbalanced complaints levied in an aggressive, unfriendly manner. However! Actual media analysis is so, so much more than that. Taking apart a piece of media and figuring out how it works and why, both in-universe and out-of-universe and taking production factors into account, is FUN. Adding context to media is FUN. “Critic” is a dirty word these days, but frankly, I wish we could start turning that around. It feels like fandom is so fucking allergic to genuine civil discourse and critical thought these days and it doesn’t have to be that way. Listen: Learning about your favorite media and why it’s your favorite is actually super fun and great, and part of that is understanding its flaws as well as its highlights. When you really love a piece of media, you learn to love it, warts and all; and loving something despite its flaws (and in some cases because of them) is not an endorsement of those flaws, nor is it problematic behavior.

5. It’s okay to like antagonists/unhealthy character dynamics, HOWEVER, you need to understand WHY they are an antagonist, and WHY those dynamics are unhealthy. There is a difference between thinking Griffith from Berserk is a fascinating character study vs saying Griffith did nothing wrong and he’s your precious little meow meow. Frankly, it’s fucking obnoxious to see antag and/or villain stans go ham on things because they start romanticizing that character’s behavior, and then the antis come out, and then everything gets polarized. Like... y’all, there’s such a thing as not going to extremes, you know that, right? Can we not embrace a character, flaws and all, and understand why they suck and still like them anyway? Self-awareness is a GOOD THING.

6. Fucking touch some grass. No, really, I mean it. Get off your computer/phone. Go do something non-digital. Take deep breaths. Tell a loved one that you love them. Pet your dog, cat, lizard, or whatever other animal you have that can be petted. It will do you some good. The internet will be here when you get back. Twitter and Insta and Tumblr can fucking wait while you take some non-screen time to yourself.

7. Don’t go into tags to shout about how you hate X or Y ship/thing. Years ago I saw a post about how it’s like, going into the blueberry muffins aisle, and loudly complaining about blueberry muffins and how they suck. None of us fucking care what you have to say, we are here for blueberry muffins, and you are clearly here for drama and shit-stirring. Fucking stop. Being like UM, REBLOG IF YOU DON’T LIKE X!!! in the #x tag, is peak basic bitch behavior. You will be much happier and more chill if you learn to just let people like the things they like, I PROMISE you.

Also, people posting in general or gushing about a ship does not constitute as them pushing it on you. If you don’t want to see anything about a ship, block the tag and keywords, it’s that simple. 

Frankly, even if you’re outside a ship tag and you start talking about how a certain dynamic is clearly familial/platonic, apropos of ENTIRELY nothing, it makes you come off like a rainbow-ass clown with a passive aggressive bone to pick. Stop fucking vagueblogging. Shit or get off the pot or get over whatever weird hateboner you have and Move. On.

8. Let people write their nasty OOC toxic smutfic. As long as it has appropriate warnings and tags, and isn’t catering to nasty p*doshit (literal adults and literal children), then fucking let. It. Go. No one is being hurt by this. It is fictional. IT. IS. FICTIONAL. 

9. Let adults have their safe fandom spaces, and let minors have theirs. I know there’s going to be overlap, especially for groups that are in their late teens/early 20s. Overlap is okay, it’s fine, whatever. But for the love of God, PLEASE respect the boundaries of others-- if you are 18+, don’t go into spaces for minors. Vice versa, do not go into spaces that are 18+ if you are not 18+. 

10. Learn to curate your online experience. Stop leaving it up to the algorithms. Learn to block tags, accounts, keywords, etc. I myself have legitimate triggers from trauma and instead of demanding the world bend over backwards to never ever talk about content that might make me uncomfortable, I take the initiative and protect myself first. If I see something that got through that filter, I’m not going to scream and cry about it--it was not a moral failing on the part of the poster, even if they forgot to put up a tag. Shit like this happens and part of living with triggers and discomforts is learning to cope with them when we can’t remove them or ourselves. You will be far happier if you stop following blogs/accounts/hashtags that make you upset.

[altamont498]

I posted 6,085 times in 2022

That's 2,814 more posts than 2021!

90 posts created (1%)

5,995 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@somethingscarlet13

@homoclothes

@plaidsquid41030

@vampireautism

@queenmorningrose

I tagged 382 of my posts in 2022

#the great ace attorney - 37 posts

#altamont498 - 37 posts

#bungo stray dogs - 17 posts

#ryunosuke naruhodo - 14 posts

#long post - 14 posts

#ace attorney - 14 posts

#club penguin - 11 posts

#lupin the third - 10 posts

#nsft - 10 posts

#youtube - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#''i am leaving to set up a retirement home for elderly goldfish on top of mt. kilimanjaro. my last day will be march 20th

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Unfriendly reminder that the image description/alt text option on website builders and social media platforms is there for you to describe images for people that are reliant on screenreaders.

It's not there for you to put in some hidden snarky comment or to use in lieu of a caption or an image credit.

[Image is described in alt text]

208 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

#4

With everything that’s going on at the minute, it’s probably a good time to remember how to spot a scam, because they’re not always obvious and you aren’t necessarily immune to them on account of age or intelligence level.

The following are genuine examples of scams that have been reported by others on the internet. They are not intended to be exclusive or exhaustive and are used for illustrative purposes only.

Seems too good to be true

Like something for nothing or an unusually large discount on something that’s usually hard to come by or very expensive.

Came from out of the blue

Someone claiming to be your internet provider calls up saying there’s an issue with your device or internet connection, even though both have been working fine all morning.

Account details/Access requested

Someone claiming to be from your bank calls up asking to confirm your account details for security purposes, or asks for you to download a program to resolve an issue with your internet banking which will allow them to control your device remotely.

Money or vouchers requested

A relative calls up and asks for money out of the blue, saying that they’re in a foreign country and have been injured and that doctors refuse to treat them until they’ve been paid, and that they need you to sort out payment for them.

Or: Someone from the tax office calls up saying you’re £500 on taxes and you need to send them Amazon vouchers right away.

’

Disguised or under Duress

Someone calls up claiming to be from the police, saying that they’re investigating counterfeit currency and need you to withdraw £2500 to hand to a courier. They tell you to tell the clerk it’s for a birthday present for your spouse if they ask you why you need such a large amount of money and not to tell them the real reason why, or else you’ll end up going to jail.

If any of the above fit the bill or sound very similar to what someone is asking you to do, there’s a chance you could get SCAM’D.

And if you do happen to fall for scams, make sure you tell the authorities or your bank right away as they may be able to put a stop to them (no organisation known by an acronym wants anyone impersonating them) and maybe able to recover some or all of your money.

Don’t feel embarrassed about it—scammers can often exploit our “off” days.

227 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

#3

[This image is alt text enabled]

275 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#2

It is not enough for me to stretch after a 7 hour shift in work. I need someone to pick me up and wring me like a wet cloth.

356 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Shout out to the people not doing Inktober, Flufftober, NaNoWriMo, etc. this year (or any year) for whatever reason.

Because they have prior work commitments (retail/service can be hell this time of year).

Because they’re too busy with school work or exam prep.

Because they’re dealing with chronic conditions and illnesses.

Because they have poor mental health and want to prioritise that.

Have other personal priorities and commitments.

Because they have no ideas or are between projects.

Because they don’t have energy.

Because they just don’t bloody well want to thank you very much.

You aren’t any less valid as an artist/writer/creator, and can’t/shouldn’t be pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do or made to feel bad about it.

This list is not intended to be exclusive or exhaustive, additions are welcomed.

P.S Not intended to be hate on anyone who does actually participate or enjoy these monthly challenges.

3,664 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Bards Sister  Geralt XFemale!Reader Part 1

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Masterlist 

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadnt seen since she was 5. The journal is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. I know i am trash at summaries.

Trigger warnings: NONE a lot of Geralt and Jaskier in this first part. Your charicter doesn’t come in till closer to the end.

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,095 longest fanfic I’ve ever written!!

A/N: hello my loves!!! I got my Insperation back!! I’m hopping i will be regularly posting agin!!! I ove you all so much you consistent love and supoort has not gone unnoticed. The constant likes and reblogs truly means the world to me. I love every single one of you so much. Thank you for believing in my writing the way you do. All my love -Lilith ps. I have reviewed and edited but I will be doing a more in-depth review soon!

“Where are we going, Jaskier.” The Witcher’s brooding voice echoed threw the flowered valley. His horse trotted not far behind his companion. Jaskier looked back at him and just rolled his eyes.

“How many times have you led me on endless roads, towards the middle of nowhere speaking little to no words to me no matter how much I ask?” Geralt said nothing. Jaskier snorted looking back towards the road.

“Exactly. No shut up, your brooding is giving me a headache.” The bard was giving the witcher a taste of his own medicine. The idea that Jaskier was leading him to somewhere he had no idea of the location, made him uneasy. Did he trust his bard? Absolutely without a doubt. Would he ever admit it to him? No never.

Their travels continued till the sun was barely hanging in the sky. The air had grown crisp replacing the harsh burning of the full summer sun. Jaskier pulled his mare to the side of the road, climbing off her, tying her to a tree. Geralt followed, realizing they were stopping for the day.

“We still have a couple hours of daylight left.” Geralt said as he took Roach’s saddle and tack off.

“We don't need a couple hours, we are nearly there. Maybe an hour and half.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow at Jaskier.

“Then why did we stop?” Jaskier pulled his saddle bags off his horse, putting them beside a log as he gathered some sticks for the fire.

“Because I have to debrief you as to who we are going to see and you must bathe before we do so. The stream here will do the trick.”

“Gods Jaskier, will you just tell me where we are going? The secrecy is bullshit.” The broot of a man was losing his patience with his friend.

The duo had been on the trip for nearly two weeks. They left Tramieria and headed east. Much further east than Geralt could ever remember traveling. Yet the bard seemed to know exactly what turns to take and when. The closer they drew to their destination the more the witcher could hear his heart beat faster.

“Jaskier if this is some stupid plot for me to protect you from some man who’s wife you slept with again-“

“It's not Geralt-“ Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, his stress causing a minor headache. “Just go bathe then I’ll tell you everything.” Geralt studied his friend, his eyes searching his face, his ears tuning into his heart beat trying his best to figure out what he was getting himself into.

With a low grunt the witcher grabbed his last set of clean clothes and the bar of soap from the bard's hand before stomping off to the river.

“Clean EVERYTHING!” Jaskier yelled over his shoulder. Only getting an unfriendly finger in return.

Nearly an hour later, the sun was completely hidden behind the canyon, the glow of the fire Jaskier started illuminating their small camp. Jaskier’s fingers strummed mindlessly at his lute, his eyes fixed on the stars that were making their presence known more, humming to himself softly. He heard his friends footsteps as he approached, his hair was wet at his shoulders. A fresh white Cotton tunic hugged his muscular build, black trousers hugging his legs. He smiled nice for once. All thanks to the lavender and honey soap Jaskier had received as a gift.

“Now don't you look better.” Jaskier said with a chuckle. The witcher sat down across the fire from him, his golden eyes staring heavily at the bard.

“Spill your guts Jaskier.” Jaskier rubbed his hands over his face and nodded. His eyes looking anywhere but at his friend.

“I haven't been completely forward about my family life.” Jaskier’s eyes landed on the moon above them. It was nearly full, he was doing well with time. He knew they would reach their destination well before the next full moon.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s harsh voice broke the silence. With a loud sigh Jaskier finally looked his friend in the face.

“I’m royalty Geralt.” The Witcher’s expression did not change. He just looked at his friend. He could hear Jaskier's heart beat become uneven and unsteady. At first he thought it was a joke but the nervous energy radiating from his long time friend made him think better.

“My family, they are wonderful people. My mother, bless her, taught me everything I needed to know about writing and music. Convinced my father to let me train at Oxenfurt Academy. My father is a noble and loyal king. He served our people well. Still does to my knowledge. I haven't been back in nearly 20 years…” the bard trailed off, his eyes fixated on his hands, his fingers twildilling with a ring he had on. The ring was that of his family. Their crest engraved into the gold.

“I was never meant to be a noble. I lived for adventure, for more than just sitting on a throne and watching people come and go. I was never fit to be king. My parents knew that. They understood. Understanding people they are.” His voice trailed off again, hopping his friend would say something. Ask a question. Anything. He didn’t know where to go next.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?” Geralt finally asked.

“Because it never came up. My family never needed me. I never needed them. I love them all dearly of course. But we were never the closest people in the world. Well, my sister and I were.” That caught the Witcher’s attention. His eyes narrow slightly, he made sure to not let his expression scare the bard into not telling him more. He was genuinely curious about his family. But he couldn't lie and say he wasn't disappointed that in the 7 years they traveled together he never heard of them.

“You have a sister?” The bard's eyes lit up. His memory raced with images of his tun little sister chasing him around the courtyard screaming, yelling his name. Her giggles and laughs pulling at his heart strings.

“Yes. Her name is (Y/N). She is about to be 25. Big age for a princess. I havnt seen her since she was very little.” His heart started to break softly. His neglect to his baby sitter weighting heavily on him.

“I write her often, as much as I can. She was...well, a surprise to my parents to say the least. I was 15 when she was born. I left home at 20. I was only around for her toddler years. I never got to see her grow, blossom into a young woman. I missed so much.” Jaskier had to fight back the tears, his throat becoming tight and dry. His body filling with regret.

“I just kept pushing it back Geralt. I alwasy said I’d make it home. I alwasy had it in the back of my mind to go back and see her. But I never did.”

“Why now?” Geralt asked.

“She wrote me a few months back. It was nearly a book. It was filled with tales of her new travels around our country. She had been training heavily with an unmanned matester of combat. She traveled the countryside with the man. She referred to him as an uncle. In the letter she asked me if it was true that I’d been traveling with you. She said the songs and tales of Jaskier the Bard traveling with the White Wolf made it to her ears.” Jaskier stopped talking for a brief moment, rummaged around his rut sack and pulled out a notebook. He untied its string and a large pile of papers fell out into his hand. He unfolded the parchment and scanned the writing.

“I wrote her back that week. Only to receive this in return.” He began to read;

“Oh dear Jaskier!! I cannot believe its true. I thought he was only a legend. The white wolf. Please tell him he is a hero here. We love his stories. Many have written books of him. Children run round calling themselves the butcher of Blaviken here to save the damsel and distress. I love his stories, mainly because they involve you. Please come visit me this year. I miss you terribly. I want to hear of your travels with the wolf. Mother said he is more than welcome to stay if he wishes to travel with you. I do miss you Jaskier. More than I think you know. I do not mean to guilt you or make you feel bad as i know you are traveling the world to your heart's content and would never want you to feel as though I do not support you-“ Jaskier stopped reading for a brief moment. A small tear dripped onto the page he was reading. Geralt listened to every word he read. He couldn't help the small tug of his lips when he read about the children pretending to be him. It was a breath of fresh air for the witcher. He had constantly been told he was a monster. To hid your children from him. Yet here was an entire country that loved him, yet he had no idea. Jaskier cleared his throat and continued. “But i miss my brother. And maybe, just maybe. I could come with you. If you deem me fit. I have been working tirelessly with a friend of fathers. He trains me in not only swordsmanship, but Herbology, and monsters as well. I can name nearly every monster that has inhabited the Continent and how to slay it. He thinks I’m ready to leave the nest and I think mother and father are getting a bit tired of me as well. I cannot stand another somber, dull, dinner party with nobles who look at me like a piece of meat. So please. Visit me soon. Come and stay a few days. Catch up with your dear sister and maybe, if he isn't too busy and if it doesn’t inconvenience him, bring the Wolf with you. He’d be a welcomed hero. All my love dear brother. Xoxo Love always, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz

Jaskier folded the letter, placing it inside his notebook before safely storing it inside his sack again. He ran a hand over his face, his eyes slowly moving from his hands to his best friend. They sat in the silence for a while. Geralt’s brain replaying the words he had heard from his friend.

“You could have told me about her Jaskier. Why didn't you? You’ve been in contact with her all this time, planning to see her and your family again. Bringing me along for the ride, yet not a single word in 7 years. Do you not trust me with such a secret Jaskier?” Jaskier was taken aback by his friend's words.

He never knew his secrecy would have such an impact on his friend. When it came to Geralt he learned long ago, the little words, the better. The witcher can only handle so much before he loses interest and stops listening or walks away. He never in a million years would have thought he cared about his life that much. It warmed the bards heart to know his dear friend, the only brother he ever had, cared that deeply for him.

“It has nothing to do with not trusting you Geralt. Is has everything to do with the shame I hold for not seeing her sooner. For treating her like a dirty secret form the world. There is no logical reason for me to keep my family such a big secret. Yet I have. For 20 years.” Geralt’s hands rubbed together softly as he listened to his friend. He understood the secrecy. He was a box full of secrets that nobody could get into.

“Its okay Jaskier. I understand the secrecy. Is that where we are going tomorrow?” Jaskier nodded, a smile appearing on his face.

“Her birthday is the next full moon. I’m hoping my gift will be a good start in time lost.” Geralt looked at him curiously. He hadn't noticed any major item in Jaskier’s possession that could make a good gift for a young princess.

“You’re her gift Geralt. I wrote her back after that letter and told her I’d be back for her next birthday. But that you simply were to busy with your work. I told her that you greatly appreciated her support and that youd consider writing to her in the future. She has no idea your coming with me.” Geralt didnt know how he felt about being a gift. He never ever saw himself as a gift to anyone. More of a burden the a gift. He shook his head at Jaskier and tutted at him.

“Jaskier if your that broke you could’ve asked me for a few extra coins for a real gift.” The witcher attempted to joke with the bard. It made Jaskier smile more. Geralt could be funny, but his humor was incredibly dry, much like Jaskier’s father.

“Geralt! Did you just try and joke around with me??” Geralt rolled his eyes, laying down stretching his muscles as he looked up at the starts.

“Best get some sleep Jaskier, you’ve got a rather big family reunion tomorrow.”

The next morning Jaskier was up and awake before Geralt, a rare sight. He truly hadn't slept more than a couple hours that night. His nerves kept him awake. He feared his sister wouldn’t be as loving as he pictured, she had every right to be mad at him, hate him even. By the time Geralt was up, Jaskier had bathed, changed and had his horse completely ready to go.

Geralt had to do everything in his power to not laugh at his friend. He looked rather ridiculous. His normal bright attire was replaced with a royals outfit. A green and blue velvet tunic and some extremely uncomfortable looking black trousers. His hair was combed back and his face was freshly washed. He even cleaned under his fingernails. He looked rather ridiculous in Geralt’s opinion. He couldn't help the low chuckle that left his lips as he put his bed roll away.

“I don't understand why you're laughing. I have some clothes for you to put on as well.” Geralt’s expression changed instantly, from humorous to angry.

“No. Absolutely not. What I’m wearing is perfectly fine. I’d wear it to meet any king or queen.” A bag was chucked at him, he barely caught it before it smacked into his face.

“This isn't any normal king and queen Geralt. This is my family. And besides, you are no ordinary witcher in my kingdom, you’ll be treated as royalty there. You may as well look the part.” Geralt huffed and threw the bag of clothes back at his friends feet, glaring daggers at him. He hated dressing up with a burning passion. Everything was too tight, not easy to fight in. If anything happened he’d have to rip the seams on every piece of clothing to be able to maneuver his weapons properly. And fancy clothes dont have space for weapons. He didn't like that one bit. Jaskier looked at his friend. His eyes pleading with him.

“Please Geralt. Just for today and her birthday. I couldn't care less what you wear at any other point on this trip.” He had walked closer to Geralt now. About a meter away from him. He extended his hand, the bag in his hand. Geralt looked from the bag to his friend. His teeth and jaw clenched.

He let out a loud huff and grabbed the bag from the bard.

“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth and began taking off his clothing. Jaskier smiled before turning his attention to Roach, getting her stalled and tacked so when Geralt was dressed they could leave.

“If we move with a bit of a haste we could make it there before breakfast.” Jaskier said as he mounted his horse, looking at his friend. His hand slapped over his face. The witcher looked utterly ridiculous in his new attire. The bright red and orange vest a-top a cream tunic, his legs tight in some disgustingly ugly corduroy pants. The pants were obviously smaller than the seamstress he bought them off claimed them to be. The ends of the pants came nearly mid calf on Geralt’s legs. His pasty white ankles and feet shining in the early morning sun.

“Jesus Geralt. Those are worse than the ones I got for Pavetta’s party.” The bard could no longer hold in his laughter. Did Gerarlt look like a nobleman? Sure, but his size, white hair, and bright yellow eyes really didn't help the situation.

“Jaskier, I will kill you for this.” Geralt grumbled angered as he pulled his socks up his feet and over his calves. Luckily for him (and Jaskier) his boots went higher than his pants, making it harder to notice that the pants he was wearing were way too small.

“At least I’m not making you wear a big hat with a feather, those are truly hideous.” Geralt mounted Roach, more carefully then he normally does in fear his pants could bust at the seams.

“I had to wrap you up nice and pretty to present you to my sister.” Jaskier commented as he led his horse; Napoleon to the main road, Geralt and Roach in tow.

The two men rode in a comfortable silence for some time, but as they got closer and closer to Jaskier’s home, all Geralt could hear was his frantic heartbeat. Jaskier’s palms get sweaty and his throat dry, no matter how much water he drinks from his water skin.

“Jaskier. You need to calm down. Your fucking heart beat is driving me insane.” Geralt hissed. They could see the end of the valley they had been traveling in. Geralt looked out in the distance, his eyes saw the castle first. It was very far, but he could tell how beautiful it was from where they were.

“Maybe you just shouldn’t listen to it then.” Jaskier barked back.

“You know I have no control over it, idiot. Take a deep breath. I know you're scared, I understand. But from the sounds of it your sister desperately misses you, I don't think she would ask you to come see her if she was going to hate you.” Geralt didn't talk much at all, that everyone knew. He was a man of few words. But when he did speak it was wiser than most people ever expected. People tended to forget the age of the white haired man, as he stopped ageing physically in his late twenties.

Jaskier smiled softly at his friend's words, he listened to him and took a few deep breaths, calling himself down. Geralt was right. His sister seemed eager as ever to see him again.

The two men approached the entrance to the city. Geralt was more than shocked. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen a city so beautiful in his entire life. The streets were lined in beautiful stone, flowers, vines, greenery all around every corner. The banners that were hanging on the outside of the main gates caught Geralt’s eyes. The crests on them were brightly colored in greens and blues, a very large diamond in the center. Their horses rode into the entrance of the town. Jaskier’s heart was calm, steady, his face was bright and had a smile Geralt had never seen on him before. He was finally home.

“Welcome to Inritha (In-Rithe-A) the capital of Unthya (Un-The-A) Geralt. Welcome to my home.”

Their horses traveled down the stone brick road slowly, the city was buzzing already even with it being the early hours of the morning. Geralt was surprised to see everyone look so...happy, care free. Enjoying their lives. They looked as though nothing was a fret, no monster looming. Geralt was mesmerized by the city. The buildings were built out of what looked to him like limestone, a building material he so rarely saw in other parts of the Continent. The buildings were being taken over by vines and moss, flowers all over. He’d never seen so many butterflies in his life.

“Jaskier-'' his voice was barely a whisper, the bard turning to look at him as they rode side by side. Jaskier couldn't help but smile as his friend admired the beauty he himself had so easily forgotten over the years.

“I know, it's beautiful. I've forgotten myself.”

The two men continued riding their horses up the road closer and closer to the castle. The longer they road tho more attention they got from passer buys. Geralt could hear their whispers.

It couldn't be. Could it?

THE Geralt of Rivia? Here in Inritha?

Mummy look! It's the butcher!!

Has Prince Jaskier finally returned home?

For the first time in what seemed like his entire life, the hushed whispers Geralt heard as he rode through a city were not of hate and disgust. But of admiration and curiosity. The entire time Geralt and Jaskier rode through the city, he never once had the urge to grab either of his swords that were at his side.

The two men approached the gates of the castle, four armored guards stood outside. The put their hand up in motion for the men to stop. One who looked as tho to be the commander of sorts stepped forward poking between both men. Eyes lingering for a long while on the two.

“State your name and what business you have in Inritha at this early hour.” Jaskier dismounted his horse, waking a few feet forward.

“My name is Jaskier Alfred Pankratz son of Dastrill and Alvere Pankratz. This is my companion Geralt Of Rivia, we are here on behalf of my sister, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz’s 25th birthday.” Jaskier bowed his head lowly, keeping eye contact with the commander in front of him.

“Prince Jaskier?!?” The man clearly looked flustered and embarrassed for not recognizing the prince of his own kingdom. All four men quickly bowed their heads.

“Please accept my apology your highness, we welcome you home. As do we welcome your honored guest.” Jaskier smiled and told the men to not trouble themselves with an apology. Geralt continued to watch from atop Roach, still not use to being idolized instead of feared. Honored guest. Geralt thought to himself. He could get use to the new treatment. Jaskier remounted Napoleon the gates to the castle walls opening. The both road threw, all four men bowed their heads as the two walked threw. Not once did they threaten Geralt’s life. They were led by a guard to the stables where they left their horses.

Geralt could hear Jaskier heart beating again in his chest as they were led inside the castle. Geralt tried to concentrate on his friend, to be there for him but he couldn't help but let his eyes wander all over the castle's walls, it was a bright exterior. The walls polished, candles everywhere. Large windows allowing for natural lighting. Nothing dark or gloomy about the castle at all. He felt uplifted..cheary almost. As they neared the entrance to the grand hall where the King, Queen, Princess along with some others were. Geralt could hear the light conversation, and the clicking of silver on plates, they were eating breakfast. But he could still hear Jaskier’s heart beating in his chest. Geralt placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked, giving it a soft squeeze. The action made Jaskier more worried if the witcher was feeling alright, as it was abnormally out of character for the man. But he said nothing, appreciating the gesture.

They got to the door and just as the guard was about to push the doors open Jaskier grabbed his arm.

“Could we maybe skip the loud over dramatic announcements of my arrival? I have not seen my family in years.” The guard only nodded, bowed his head and walked back outside to his post. Jaskier looked over at his friend, as he put his hand on the door ready to push it open.

“Now or never.” Jaskier said as he opened the door. Both men walked into the large room, the talking stopped almost instantly. Geralt stood at the door, not wanting to impose on the important reunion of his friend and his family. He followed Jaskiers gaze to the table ahead of them in the front of the room. The room was lined with huge floor to ceiling windows, the light of the early morning sun shone brightly making the marble floors glisten.

“JASKIER!!!” The loud scream of a girl nearly made Geralt jump out of his skin, his hand reaching back for a sword that wasn't there in instinct.

It made Jaskier jump but the smile that covered his face was even bigger than the one he had seen as he walked through the city. Geralt followed Jaskier’s gaze to a young woman. The sight of her alone made Geralt want to pass out. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. Her hair was the same chestnut brown that Jaskier had, but it was long, hip length. She had it pulled back slightly out of her face, a few baby hairs framed her face. Oh her face. Geralt thought as though he was looking at a living breathing angel. He heard her chair scrape roughly on the ground before it loudly crashed on the floor. She raced around the long table from her mothers side and sprinted to her brother. She practically threw herself on him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, stumbling back a few steps. Everything was quite as the two embraced. Geralt's eyes went to the king and queen who were now standing. The queen looked just like (Y/N) but her hair was black, long stripes of grey peeking through her hair. The crown atop her head glistened in the light. Her right hand was tightly around her husband's arm, her other hand placed softly over her mouth as she looked at her children. Her husband looked much like Jaskier. His hair was the same color as both of their children, but much like his wife’s, much of it had turned grey. His eyes were the same cornflower blue that Jaskier had.

Minutes passed in silence before Jaskier put his hands on his sisters shoulders, pulling her away from him. He put one hand on her cheek as he examined her features. Her pale cheeks were damp with tears. But not sad tears. Tears of joy.

“My sister, how you’ve grown.” Geralt could hear the tears in the bard's voice. He couldn't see him but he could hear everything.

(Y/N) fingers gently brushed over her brother’s face as she smiled at him.

“My brother, how you haven't aged a day. You look just as I remember you. Maybe a few more wrinkles.” She teased. He laughed softly. Wiping his eyes with his hand before pulling her into another bone crushing embrace. She was much shorter than Jaskier, barely shoulder level with him. Geralt was shocked to remember she would be turning 25 in two days. She was still young in the face, beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to see her more up close.

While the siblings spoke their parents moved from the spots at the table, standing behind (Y/N). Alvere was the first to pull him into a tight embrace after her daughter let go. Her fingers gently combed through his hair as she inhaled his scent deeply.

“My dear son how I've missed you.” She whispers slowly into his ear. Geralt was starting to feel bad for eavesdropping. Not that he could help it. He was still standing at the entrance to the grand hall yet he could hear everything.

Jaskiers father hugged him next, it was not nearly as long as the outer two but both men were okay with it. Understanding that their relationship had never been one for long father son hugs.

“It is good to see you again my boy.” His hand clasped down on his son's shoulder.

The four of them stood close together, smiling more than Geralt ever thought possible. It almost made his heart turn. Deep, deep, deep, down the witcher longed for a family that would look at him the way they looked at Jaskier. He often cured the universe for not giving him an option when it came to what he had become. He clung to the few memories he had of his mother. But as years passed they became harder and harder to remember, more painful. But he had. Made a new sort of family over the years. From Jaskier, to his brothers at Kaer Morhen.

“(Y/N), mum, dad, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” Jaskier turned his head towards the door to the hall. Geralt stood tall, shoulders pressed back, his hair framed his face gracefully. Even in the entirely ugly attire he was in, he made himself as presentable and as proper as possible. (Y/N)’s eyes grew bigger when her eyes met his. He once again was taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes were a powerful emerald green matching similarly to the color of her brother's tunic, but brighter. Her mouth fell slightly agape when she realized who it was. The eyes were a dead give away that he was in fact a witcher, but once she saw the silver medallion that rested on his chest, she knew.

Jaskier nodded his head for Geralt to walk forward and he did, his footsteps were light, his pace slow and steady as he walked closer to the royal family. (Y/N)’s hand gently covered her mouth in excitement. Her eyes flickering to her brother who grinned at her.

“A bit of an early birthday gift.” He winked. Once Geralt was closer to the group Jaskier turned so he could introduce them, at his sister's side. All eyes were on him. Even the few people who were still seated at the table were looking at him. He started to feel a bit more uneasy. He started to remember how far away his swords were if he needed them. This alone was beginning to make him panic. He was not used to being welcomed into royal courts unless it was specifically for a hunt.

“This is Geralt of Rivia, one of the most feared, renowned, and skilled Witcher’s the content has to offer. And also my best friend.”

Geralt's eyes were back on (Y/N)’s, his worries dropped more when she smiled brightly at him. Her eyes gleamed.

Geralt bowed his head to the three of them, “ it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, your highnesses.” (Y/N) was nearly blown over by the sultry sound of his voice. She had only heard stories of the witcher. Never see him for herself and definitely had never heard him speak. She never expected a monster hunter to be as handsome as he was. She admired every feature he had. Her eyes fixating on his chiseled jawline, the light gray stubble across his chin and cheeks.

“My, what a pleasure it is to meet such a famed warrior as yourself Geralt!” The king spoke before (Y/N) could, which she was happy about as she did not trust her voice to not waver at his beauty in that moment.

“You my dear are very popular around here. Your stories are legendary. The school children even host yearly plays, Reenacting your most beloved stories.” (Y/N)’s mother added her finger pointing light hardly at Geralt. Her hand came out gracefully from her side to shake the Witcher’s hand. He gently took it, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His attention returned to (Y/N).

“I’m terribly sorry I’m the birthday gift from your brother this year.” She shook her head almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Do not be sorry Geralt-'' the way she said his name made him feel as though he could keel over. “I would like to thank you, for protecting my brother for the years you have. He never skips on his gratitude for you in his letter to me. For that we are all eternally grateful for you.” She reached her hand out. Geralt wasted no time in grabbing her hand, shaking it gently. He was dying inside, but he couldn't let her or anyone else see. He took a gentle step towards her, his head lowering softly, his soft lips were placed on the back of her small hand. The small action made the young girls' faces burn red. Her eyes flicked to her brother who smugly smiled, knowing danm well his gift was going to take the cake.

“Well, you both should come join us, we just started eating.” The king said with a smile, with a quick wave of his hand two more places we set.

(Y/N) gently removed her hand from Geralt’s. Walking towards the table, both men in tow. As she reached her spot she moved her plate and glass to the middle seat that had been prepared, leaving Jaskier a seat next to their mother and Geralt a seat next to her. They all sat and waited as food was served to them. (Y/N) could feel Geralt watching her as she ate, her brother deep in conversation with her parents about his most recent travels. But she wasnt listening. Her attention was only on the man seated to her left. She looked over at the man, eyed him up and down then turned to her brother. For the first time she noticed how ugly their attire was.

“Gods Jaskier who dressed you two?” She asked as she sipped her orange juice. Both men looked at her. Jaskier looked a bit hurt and Geralt only snorted.

“I told him the clothes were horrendous.” Geralt said beside the young woman making her giggle. The sound made his heart beat faster. This was also when he realized how sensibly everyone else in the room was dressed, and how much they stood out. (Y/N) was in a thin white cotton dress, it was around knee length and a light sweater was on her shoulders. Her mother and father dressed similarly. Their clothes looking normal, comfortable.

“Oh my dear brother. What have you done to the poor witcher.” She laughed, turning her attention to him. She could see how uncomfortable the clothes made him. The vest was way too tight and he was practically bursting out of his pants, not that she minded, she gladly enjoyed the view.

“He is torturing me. That's what.” Geralt scoffed and she couldn't help but giggle again.

“You're so dramatic Geralt it's truly not that bad.” Her head flicked to her brother.

“Jaskier don't be rude.” She tutted him like a mother, it made Geralt snort under his breath as he took a bite of his eggs. She stood and walked behind him. He was stiff at her movements.

“Do you mind?” Her fingers were on the strings of the vest. He shook his head no and she quickly untied the tight strings, and it fell from his shoulders. She took it off and handed it to one of the maids

“You can burn that horridly ugly thing.” She said as she sat back down.

“I do not remember you being so rude, little sister.” Jaskier quipped.

“What I think is rude is how you made sure you got the more presentable clothing and dressed your poor friend in those horrendous colors. Have you seen his pants, Jaskier?? It's a miracle he can still breath.” Her eyes looked towards the witcher who was already looking at her with a cocky smirk on his face, glad she was putting Jaskier in his place for the ugly outfit choice.

“I can take you to the seamstress later today, if you’d like Geralt.” Her smile was like a drug.

“I’d appreciate that m'lady.” He said softly.

“And I can show you around the city, both of you. But in return I would like to hear some of your stories, first hand if that’s doable.”

“That sounds like a reasonable trade.” Geralt quipped back.

“Then it's a date, Witcher.”

“A date it is.”

[viscountessevie]

B&B either settled with netflix or are dumb af because they deleted their videos about the concert but a couple of days ago they posted something with the bridgerton concert hashtag 💀

Related to B&B v Netflix Case, here's My Summary and the tag for posts & asks about it.

Okay so I wanted to check if there were any updates on the case and Trivia @hptriviachamp kindly pointed me in the direction of this website and I'm assuming it will update accordingly when B&B's lawyers have filed their Answer document back in response to the Complaint by Netflix

I don't remember videos of the performances being posted - is this on their Tiktok? I should have guessed; they did get their start there but Tiktok is very browser unfriendly now so feel free to help link the new posts in question in another ask or in a comment/reblog on this post. If anyone has the screenies of the videos I would love to see them!

I've mostly been following their presence on IG and all their posts about it are still up,,, for now.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Abigail Barlow & Emily Bear (@barlowandbear)

Comments are disabled and limited though which is hilarious. They're really waiting for people to forget and sweep this under the rug huh?

I know maybe because of legal reasons they can't say too much or give away their next move but some transparency would be nice. Now they just seem to have lost all credibility and this is definitely going to affect how they are viewed in the industry.

Current verdict: They (and/or their legal team) are dumb af. From the girls who turned down the special licence sigh, what did we expect?

Also all this being said, this is my last ask about the case until the next move is made! I'll be reblogging some posts from my mutuals - with other povs and opinions - I had bookmarked to reblog to end off this topic for now. Please feel free to continue the discussion in the comments and reblogs. Asks are welcome but everything about the case itself has been said so really now we wait for B&B's team response.

[fandomshatelgbtqpeople]

It’s often hard to find posts that are pro-kink and pro-ace, so I decided to make one.

I was going to start this off with a list of statements that “can and should coexist” but for much the same reason that this post is going to be an essay unto itself, it is too complicated a subject to condense into such a nice pithy format. Recently I have reblogged some posts in favor of the presence of kink at pride. I have not changed on this regard but unfortunately this issue is also used by exclusionists to direct attacks at a-spec people. As such it is often hard to find posts that are pro-kink and pro-ace, so I decided to make one.

The queer community is a massive and diverse group and with that diversity comes conflict. There is no one size fits all solution. What helps one part of the community will not necessarily benefit another. Gay bars are a great place to meet people. They are also loud, crowded, and serve alcohol which makes them difficult for people with sensory over stimulation or substance abuse issues. So people who want these spaces are often accused of being prudes and people who want to include kink at pride are often accused of being deviants. And oddly I can think of a historical figure who has had both of these accusations leveled at him. Cue historical flashback for a Very Special Episode.

Richard Berkowitz was in his own words an S&M Hustler. He was a sex worker and professional Dom. He is Jewish, lives in New York, has a degree in Journalism from Rutgers and called his mom in New Jersey everyday. He is also one of the co-inventors of Safe Sex.

In the early 80s he was diagnosed with GRID. Gay Related Immunodeficiency which would later be called AIDS. He was a patient of Dr Joseph Sonnabend along with another man Michael Callen. Sonnabend was himself a gay man and an immunologist. Sonnabend hypothesized that GRID was spread through sex and was caused by “immune overload.” This was a hypothesis that was not popular in the gay community at large because many felt it validated the homophobic abuse that was constantly flung at the community. Sonnabend was not giften with words and was terrible as a science educator so Berkowitz and Callen teamed up to help him get the word out.

While the 60’s was known for the Free Love movement for straight people the seventies saw the repeal of many anti sodomy laws and it was the decade of free love for gay people. Many saw promiscuity as a part of that liberation. It should also be noted that at the time I am talking about no one knew yet what caused GRID, so the hypothesis that it was caused by promiscuity was viewed as tantamount to blasphemy. I should also note that Dr. Sonnabend was not claiming to be above promiscuity. He himself frequented gay bathhouses where many gay men would meet to have sex. Berkowitz and Callen met through Sonnabend and together worked to help Sonnabend to spread the word. Their first attempt was an article in the New York Native a local gay newspaper titled “We Know Who We Are.” The Native editorial staff insisted on a subtitle, “Two Gay Men Declare War on Promiscuity.”

Berkowitz and Callen were immediately reviled by the gay community of New York. They were accused of being prudes and self hating gay men. But they kept following Dr. Sonnabend and helping him communicate his findings and theories to the populace even if no one would listen to them. The next year was hard of them and journalism work wasn’t paying the bills for Berkowitz. He eventually returned to work as a Dom. However this time he worked with clients who wanted to be Dominated but not penetrated. As time went on he found ways of doing his job that minimized risk for both him and his clients. This led him and Callen to write a pamphlet on sexual health called “How to Have Sex in an Epidemic: One Approach” In it they explained the basics of Safe Sex that are now taught in Health Classrooms in the US. One of my favorite tips they gave was to love your partner even if it is just for one night. If you love them you won’t want to risk hurting them and you will be more careful.

The fate of different gay venues would continue to be a hot button issue in the community even to this day. There were arguments made about closing gay bars, sex clubs, and bathhouses in the name of public health. And there were arguments made to keep them open because many feared if they closed down they would never open again.  

So what am I getting at here? Well really I just wanted to highlight how the needs of the community can conflict with themselves. And how that conflict has always been part of the community. We need a diversity of spaces in order to embrace the diversity of our community. We need non sexual spaces. We need them for our a-spec siblings and so that I can go on a nice date with a guy and talk in peace and safety without having my ears blown out by a subwoofer. We need loud party spaces. We need places we can dance and grind and flirt with strangers. We need sexual spaces where people who are interested in kink can explore that interest with like minded people.

And finally we need to acknowledge that kink is an integral part of our community. Our community was built by sex workers and we need them. First and foremost they are a part of our community and they are valuable in their own right. But further, for many reasons that are too numerous to name many members of our community will experience their first time with a professional. Many queer people will for numerous reason be sex workers. Their involvement in our movement can help make us resistant to those who would sanitize Pride. It can make our events advertiser unfriendly and help keep corporate greed from monetizing our identities. We have to remember that although our community is becoming more respected, that respectability is not the goal. Liberation is the goal.

The First Pride was Riot.