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I hope Andre knew how much joy he brought all of us 🥺❤️

Edit: Statement from Mike Schur and Dan Goor - “Like everyone who was fortunate enough to know Andre, we are heartbroken by the news of his passing. He was one of the most talented dramatic actors in history, and then he decided to try comedy, and he was instantly one of the funniest people ever to do it,” read the statement. “But even greater than his acting talent was the happiness and joy he brought to those around him. And his smile… he had the greatest, brightest, most wonderful smile. Our thoughts and love go to his beautiful, amazing family, whom he loved more than anything. We are grateful for the time we had with him.”

Edit 2: Statements from Joel and Joe 😭

Edit 3: Chelsea 💔

Edit 4: Melissa

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Rest in Peace, Andre Braugher.

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I need my own place bc I wanna host a Barbie movie marathon night

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alya and nino in steampunk au

maybe i should redesign ad and mari's clothes...

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nothing in the world makes me more evil than just being kind of annoyed

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You’ll be missed…

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Rebecca Ross, Divine Rivals

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To this day people will cry over the knowledge and works destroyed when the library of Alexandria was burned down.

And yet no tears are shed as Palestinian archives and libraries are bombed.

Saint Porphyrius Church, built in 1150 and the 3rd oldest church in the world has been bombed.

It's not an accident.

Israel aren't simply killing Palestinians, they are trying to erase that there ever were Palestinians in the first place.

Destroying their livelihoods, trying to to destroy their culture and history and pretend this land was never there's.

It's easy to deny someone's existence when there's no record of them.

Which is why it's so important to look at the atrocities and bear witness to what's happening.

But to also recognise that Palestine is more than it's suffering.

There is a living breathing culture, of art, history, literacy which all come from the Palestinians.

Traditions they've carried for centuries.

So while we mourn the dead, we shall fight for the living. Fight for the preservation of their crafts, amplify their voices as they speak on their culture.

Palestinian history and culture is alive. And no matter how much the world wants to erase that, they cannot and will not.

#free palestine #free gaza #anti israel #anti zionisim #archivisim #libraries #anthropology #palestine

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Grow. The. Fuck. Up.

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giggling and kicking my feet pls

I am on my knees begging for the deleted scene 🥺

Your wish is my command!

For anyone who doesn’t know, this is a deleted ending scene from this fic which is set in the series linked below 🥰

The Cottage at the Edge of the Woods

Your bedroom was bathed in sunlight when you next awoke, and you were alone in bed.

It took you a few moments, your brain still slow and fuzzy with the flu, to work out why that surprised you, and your heart leapt when you remembered the way you had fallen asleep the night before: cradled in Geralt’s arms, your head resting over his heart, both of you pressed together to fit into your bed.

You felt like a young lass with a crush as you covered your face with your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks and knowing it was only partly down to the fever. A man like Geralt wouldn’t hold just anyone to help them fall asleep, surely. Your mind was reeling with the thought that he could love you back, and the question of how a love like that- between a wandering Witcher and homebody healer- would even look.

You were so consumed by your thoughts that it was a few minutes before you began to feel ill again.

The balm that Geralt had so carefully rubbed into your temples the previous day had worn off and your skull felt unbearably tight again, your pulse pounding in your ears. You swallowed- or attempted to, finding that your throat was dry and tight. Reaching out to your bedside table, you discovered that the goblet you had left there was empty of water.

Your legs felt heavy and sluggish as you swung them out of bed, pushing yourself to your feet. The movement made you feel queasy and you paused for a few seconds, picking up the empty goblet before making your slow way to the kitchen in search of water.

You stopped in the kitchen doorway, leaning on the doorframe to get your breath back. The short walk had been more draining than you had expected, your muscles weak from your illness and days in bed. You closed your eyes for a few seconds but opened them at the sound of the back door opening to reveal Geralt.

His snowy white hair was tied back from his face, gathered together loosely at the nape of his neck with a few stubborn tendrils framing his cheeks. He had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, making your dry mouth drier still at the sight of his muscular forearms, and it took you a moment to notice the disapproving expression on his face.

“You should be in bed,” he told you firmly, “Come on.”

“I needed a drink,” you replied stubbornly, your eyes moving reluctantly from him to the jug of water on the table, “I’ll just-”

Before you could take a step, he had crossed the room, plucked the goblet from your hand, and filled it from the jug. You pouted, not used to letting someone look after you, and made to take the goblet from him to carry it back to your room.

Geralt had other plans, apparently.

With the goblet secure in his left hand, he turned to you and- barely breaking his stride as he did so- crouched and slung you bodily over his right shoulder. You let out an indignant squeal as he walked with you back to your bedroom, you clinging to his waist in fear of being dropped.

It was only later that it occurred to you to marvel at his strength, carrying you with such ease as though you weighed no more than a feather- which was certainly not the case.

“You’ve made your point,” you grumbled from your upside-down position over his shoulder, “You didn’t have to carry me.”

You heard the sound of him setting the goblet down on your bedside table, before he lowered you none-too-gracefully onto your bed, the mattress bouncing as you landed. He grinned at the sight of you pouting up at him.

“I wouldn’t have had to carry you if you’d stayed in bed and rested like you should,” he pointed out in amusement, pulling the blankets back up to cover you, “If you need something, you call for me. I don’t want you getting out of bed again.”

“You have a very mean way of looking after people,” you told him, crossing your arms like a child.

Geralt chuckled again, and you felt your lips twitching with the urge to smile; you fought it, even as he bent to gently kiss your forehead.

“Rest,” he instructed you, “I’ll join you later.”

It was impossible not to smile after hearing that sweet promise.

#the cottage universe #geralt x reader #geralt blurb #geralt imagine #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #geralt drabble #geralt fic #geralt fluff #geralt fanfic

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SO CUTE IM THROWING UP

sharing a bed with your ''lover'' and being told to “stay on your side of the bed“ only to wake up the next day, with your ''lover's'' arms wrapped around you with Geralt? 👀

Thank you for enabling me, Amanda 👀

This is my first time writing Geralt so feedback would be appreciated 👀

Sleep prompts

“I don’t want us sleeping in separate rooms at the inn,” Geralt said as the two of you walked along the main street of the town, you on his left and Roach on his right, “I didn’t like the way that innkeeper was looking at you earlier, and I don’t want him knowing you’re in a room alone tonight.”

You glanced at him in amusement out of the corner of your eye.

“Defending my honour, are you?” you asked, biting back a grin at the noncommittal grunt he let out in response, “Fine. But you had better stay on your side of the bed.”

That earned you a snort of laughter from your stoic travelling companion as you reached the inn. The way that he placed himself deliberately between you and the stable boy to whom he handed Roach’s reins, and then again between you and the innkeeper with his wandering eyes as he collected the key to your room, was not lost on you.

There were some who mistook Geralt’s quiet ways for lack of emotion, lack of caring, but you knew better. He showed that he cared for you by keeping you safe, by noticing those who looked at you with mal intent and, if the need arose, by sleeping next to you. Throughout your months of travelling with the Witcher, you had chipped away at his stoic facade, creating a chink in his armour that allowed occasional chuckles and half-smiles to escape- for your eyes only, of course.

Your room for the night, you discovered, was little more than a cupboard with a rickety bed somehow crammed inside. It was dismal, but after a long day in the saddle it looked like heaven.

“I’m going straight to bed,” you announced, before glancing at your companion out of the corner of your eye, “If we’re going to share, you had better go and bathe. It smells like you’ve brought Roach inside.”

It was with some difficulty that you stopped yourself giggling as you heard Geralt grumble something about you not smelling much better than he did, and then something else about staying out of “his side of the bed” whilst he was gone, followed by the sound of the door closing behind him as he set off in search of bath water. Kicking your boots off and draping your cloak over the end of the bed, you crawled under the blankets and were asleep in minutes.

It was dark when you awoke to the feeling of someone climbing into the bed beside you, and panic briefly shot through your veins at the thought of the innkeeper’s wandering eyes. Careful not to move too much, you reached your hand slowly under your pillow in search of the dagger you had stashed there.

“It’s me.”

You relaxed at the sound of Geralt’s rumbling voice.

“I didn’t recognise you, smelling so clean,” you mumbled into your pillow, already drifting back to sleep, “I like it.”

You weren’t sure if you imagined feeling his huff of laughter warming the back of your neck or not, but it was followed by the mattress creaking under his weight as he got himself comfortable. You definitely didn’t imagine the feeling of his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you away from him.

“Stay on your side of the bed,” in a fond murmur was the last thing you heard as you fell asleep.

It was light when next you woke, but that wasn’t the first thing that you noticed. No, the first thing that you noticed was the pleasant weight of a strong arm draped over your waist, and the warmth of a large body sleeping behind you. Biting your lip, you dared to peek over your shoulder.

Geralt’s face was more relaxed than you had ever seen it, his snowy hair loose and tousled by sleep; you resisted the urge to reach back and run your fingers through it. His breathing was slow and even, and you bit back the laughter bubbling in your throat as you noticed a final key detail about his sleeping position.

He was completely on your side of the bed.

#geralt imagine #geralt blurb #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt fanfic #geralt fluff #geralt drabble #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #UGH YES #nonverbal communication #is actually #EVERYTHING #my bf is like this 🤧🤧

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Healing Hands. || Geralt of Rivia x F!Reader. [ONESHOT.]

There are not many beings that Geralt trusts to tend to his wounds. Amongst the limited few is a novice woodland witch - one that he’s long felt affection for.

Explicit Sexual Content. Witch!Reader. Hurt/Comfort Elements.

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. Wounds and Injuries. Explicit Sex (F!Receiving Oral & Vaginal). Reader Has Long Hair - But No Other Physical Descriptions Used. Not Beta Read. Minorly Edited.

MASTERLIST || TAGLIST

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!

“Why do you always have to end up like this?”

The words are spoken more to yourself than him. Muttered. Annoyed. Yet, simultaneously gentle and concerned. Just like the brush of your fingers are you pack herbs around his wound - holding them in place as you wind the bandage tighter around his muscled side.

Geralt only hums. The heat of your cottage and the warmth of your touch is nice. Comforting. He knows that he can relax here. That he’s safe with you.

Yet, your displeasure at his state remains obvious.

His hands raise. They settle on your hips. Insistent, yet gentle - broad and strong as he slowly tries to reel you in. Wanting to bring you closer to where he sits upon your bed. Ignoring the fact that even now as you stand above - straddling his legs while tending to his wounds - you’re not far from him at all.

Still, he needs more.

Keep reading

#I always love seeing Geralt in love #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt smut #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x y/n #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia smut #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia fic

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“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”

— Jonathan Safran Foer (via quotemadness)