hopefully you don't hate it

10

Ah, yes. Jane’s first love. I did say we’d get back to him.

anonymous asked:

I'm afraid to reblog stuff about Reiner and bertholdt because whenever I do so I get hate messages. I don't know what to do

I’m honestly a little shocked to hear that. Maybe it’s a difference in followers, or the change in attitude I’ve seen in folks due to recent manga chapters and anime episodes, but there seems to be a lot more sympathy towards RB recently. However, I know that doesn’t account for everyone. I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve gotten hateful messages after reblogging them.

If hateful anons or other users are sending you messages like that for content you enjoy, I wouldn’t hesitate to block them. I know this can be hard for some people, but there’s no reason to keep yourself open for abuse. You shouldn’t allow yourself to be censored by hate. Reblog and talk about what you like. And know that anyone who sends you hate about RB in messages, especially anons, understand that they have shit taste and laugh them off.

Synergy

Hi. I know I’ve been AWOL for like 5 months, and my excuse for that is this: I suck. Plain and simple.

Here’s a random, spontaneously written story that will hopefully suffice as an apology. It’s yet another friends-to-lovers story because I have an addiction to mass-producing this trope. I can’t be helped.


Summary: There are bad decisions. And then there’s sleeping with your best friend, who is also your other best friend’s brother, after their mother’s funeral.

Rating: M

Like Ships In The Night (you keep passing me by) (5/?)

Enchanted Forest AU-Princess Emma does a reverse Cinderella and meets a Captain in a tavern instead of a Prince at a ball. It should have been a one-time thing but fate had other plans and they just keep meeting. Originally a one-shot birthday fic for @spartanguard but now a full on multichapter  Extra thanks to @phiralovesloki for being a stellar and fast beta!

5.2k | T | FF.net | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4


The woods were darker than Emma had expected. Clouds obscured the moon and stars and the trees were little more than shadows against the black. It was the kind of night that called for curling up by a fire, not tromping through the forest looking for an escaped pirate.

There was a pull on her wrist from the black fabric wrapped around it. Emma adjusted her direction, trusting the locator magic to lead her through the darkness. She fingered the rough cotton in the dark. The scarf Hook had used to keep her from calling Elsa’s guards hadn’t been a bad idea but with a locator potion added, it had become Emma’s personal pirate finder. Her father and his knights had clattered off toward the port assuming, as Emma had, that the pirate would commandeer a ship. By the time she had poured out the potion, it was too late to tell them that Captain Hook had fled to the forest and not the sea. Determined not to let him get too far away, Emma had set off at a gallop on a horse only to abandon it when the scarf pulled her into the deep woods.

She didn’t know where Hook was going, only that, once again, he had betrayed her. This time she was going to throw him in the dungeon where he belonged, where her father had wanted him to be from the beginning. Her mistake had been to think that she understood him, that because they had both been hurt by love they were similar. She had thought that his encounter with the Dark One had changed him, made him recognize the futility of his vengeance, made him want to be a part of something. She thought she had sensed it that night in her room and later in the council chamber, but she had been wrong. After Neal and Walsh, she should have known better, but the damn pirate had made her forget herself and forget the lesson she knew all too well–the only people she can trust is her family.

Suddenly the pull on her wrist stopped and Emma paused in confusion. Then she heard the crack of a twig from behind and on instinct, she ducked. The momentum of her attacker took him over her body and to the ground. In a flash, Emma was on top and sliding up to pin his biceps with her knees. She put her full weight forward and he hissed in pain. She grinned in triumph but the smile fell as a sharp pain pierced her thigh. She had forgotten about the hook.

“Ah! What the hell!” She rolled off and away, her right hand going to her thigh and her left pulling her dagger. She hadn’t expected an actual fight, hadn’t believed he would really hurt her despite his escape, but of course she had been wrong.

“Emma? Bloody hell, Emma! Are you hurt?” His shock and remorse made her loosen her hold on her dagger but not on her anger.

“You stabbed me with your hook! Of course I’m hurt,”

There was movement and suddenly he was beside her, his shadowed form becoming something recognizable close-up.

“Where?” Then his hand was on her knee and sliding upward as he probed for her wound. Heat flashed through her and she slapped his hand away. He drew back as if she had slapped his face.

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Before I wake up in the morning, I can hear a voice in my head telling me to keep sleeping and keep dreaming. I open my eyes anyway and realize what the voice meant.

Some mornings I wake up and check my phone to see if he got lonely or drunk last night and wanted me. He never does but I still feel let down every time.

—  It was better when you texted me good morning

NEWT GEISZLER’S MIX - An assortment of songs for a certain tiny punk feminist to sing and dance his little heart out to.

i. Body - Mother Mother | ii. Hey - Pixies | iii. Anarchy In The U.K. - Sex Pistols | iv. Bad Karma - Ida Maria | v. Your Mangled Heart  - Gossip | vi. You’re on Fire - They Might Be Giants | vii. Dancing With Myself - Billy Idol | viii. Transgender Dysphoria Blues - Against Me! | ix. Standing in the Way of Control - Gossip | x. Arkansas Heart - Gossip | xi. Sixteen - Iggy Pop | xii. True Trans Soul Rebel - Against Me!

Vague Implications and Seesaw Oscillations Part 15

A/N: DELAY = MINIMAL

It’s 2 AM, feel special! (Not really, I never sleep. But you are still special! I could be contemplating the idiocy of flesh-colored bandaid selections at the local pharmacy right now. Did you know that apparently selling only one shade is completely acceptable?)

Much [thank and smooching] to this fic’s beta and my favorite of all hoomans, who left late for brunch to speed-beta this chapter. Everybody go give her glitter right now.

Hartbig AU, SFW, 1,300 words. Lies and deception. Previous parts can be found on my FIC PAGE which I think I probably forgot to update… Le sigh. I will. I 100% will. Look. I’m not even attaching part 14. That’s how much I will.

Enjoy!

Part 15: Marks

“Yeah, um, yes, thanks, that would be good. I’ve got the last meetups for the movie these next few of days though. Are you free tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. Wait, are you going to be able to make that dinner Thursday?”

What?

“Huh?”

“The dinner? That I helped organize, you said you’d come too?“

Can you really call a ‘little black dress’ stylish casual?

The way it hugs Grace’s ass is definitely anything but casual.

It’s tight. Tight enough, that Hannah can tell Grace is wearing heels, without ever having even remotely looked at her feet.

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winginoverthings  asked:

OK I WAS WATCHING EPISODE 3 SEASON 1 AAAAND I THINK YOU WILL LIKE THIS: A moment between Arya and Bejen? Maybe in one of his visits or something? I don't care if it's cute, if it's some angsty moment of Benjen thinking of Lyanna or if he sees Arya and Jon and says something idk.

Benjen has always known that Jon is Lyanna’s son. He knew Ned too well to believe the lie even if he did not know anything else. They did not speak of it. Benjen took his own secrets to the Wall with him and there he hoped to assuage the guilt he felt, to try to keep the ghosts in the past. It seemed to work after a fashion.

Those who serve on the Wall serve for life and so he rarely leaves. He knows Ned has children but he tries not to think on it too much. He must focus on his duty and the path he has chosen. He will not marry and will father no sons. He will serve and it seems only right that he must serve, must do something for the realm that has suffered so much.

When he arrives at Winterfell on one of those very rare absences from the Wall he sees Robb first. Ned’s eldest does not look like a Stark. Nor does sweet Sansa have the Stark look with her shining Tully auburn hair. The youngest present, Brandon, steps forward and the name sends a knife into his heart but the boy is not Brandon and he finds he can put those memories aside and greet his nephew the way an uncle should.

It is on the tip of his tongue to ask after Jon but then he remembers the lie. Ned’s lady wife emerges with the babe in her arms and Benjen smiles for her and offers the jape he knows is expected because he has always been known for his smiles and japes and Ned’s children must be spared the pain of the past.

He is walking with Ned through the castle grounds when he sees them. Jon is quiet and so very like Ned that Benjen can almost fool himself, almost make himself believe the lie. It is the girl that undoes him.

“Arya,” Ned calls out. “Where have you been? You did not greet your Uncle Ben.”

The girl lifts her head and her expression is guilty. She still has a smile for Jon and she has been picking flowers and that makes it even worse. She darts forward, all scraped knees and wild messy hair and Benjen’s chest feels tight but his throat is even tighter and he does not know how he might speak.

“I am sorry I missed your arrival Uncle Ben,” she says with a glance at Ned as though fearing a rebuke.

Ned is smiling at his daughter and Benjen does not know how he cannot see, how he can look at the little girl in front of them without thinking of Lyanna. Jon joins them and the bond between the two is so obvious, the way Arya looks to him. In that moment Benjen is glad he serves Castle Black because to be in Winterfell and see this every day would be a special kind of torture.

I would not be able to forget.

Arya thrusts the flowers at him and it is all he can do to take them. He offers her a smile and her face lights up at the simple gesture of picking one of the blooms for her to keep. She must only be all of seven but Benjen still remembers his sister’s smile and the way she called him Ben. The smile is the same, as is the scowl and the way she proclaims Jon to be stupid when he musses her hair.

“I’m getting too big for that,” she announces but Benjen can see she is not truly angered.

“You’re still a lot smaller than me little sister,” Jon replies. “You will never be too big.”

Benjen looks to Ned and sees the sadness in his brother’s eyes and that is when he knows. He sees it too. They leave the children to their play and he tries to hold his tongue and fails.

“For a moment there I might have thought Winterfell had a ghost.”

“She is very like Lyanna,” Ned admits solemnly, “but thank the gods it will not end the same.”

Benjen thinks upon it. There are painful memories but if he pushes those aside there are good ones as well and he knows he must draw upon those when he looks at his niece.

Mayhaps the gods have granted a second chance.

It’s like every time you reach out, my heart beats a little faster and I’m convinced for just a second that you miss me. Then I see you in person and it’s like we’re going backwards.

I’m starting to think that maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

—  Maybe we’ll go so far back to the days before I knew you