#dreamsoftiaras

it's just the information loading, from what i can tell. the black line is total followers and blue line is new followers and it disappears that it registers how your activity page is set.

I’ve never seen it do that before, though.... it seems like tumblr might be messing with the code for something again.

dreamsoftiaras answered your question

just checked and mine is doing that too...

xlamestblogeverx answered your question

this happened to me earlier today, but i have no clue what's going on... sorry i can't be of any help

wingsdestiel answered your question

Mine's doing that too. No idea.

well, at least I know that it’s not something that my extensions are messing up (the appearing/disappearing made that seem like the most plausible solution earlier), so that’s good. I guess I’ll just hope tumblr evens out whatever it’s messing around with, haha

omg well that sounds like a bit of a sucky day but Happy Birthday!

its down for me too :(

pinkbonesforeverblog answered your post: Is AO3 not working for anyone else? Di...

Not working for me either!

sketchedsilmaril answered your post: Is AO3 not working for anyone else? Di...

down for me too

Send your dreams

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted

I saw you the other day

So much for my happy ending

It’s just another night

Belle doesn’t mean it. Not at first.

She just wants to get away, away from a crumbling house of sweet lies and shattered hopes. She needs a moment to breathe, or maybe several, or months, or years, and she doesn’t know if the hole inside her is ever going to go away, if there will ever be a day when it isn’t the first thing she feels when she wakes up. But when the pain recedes, there isn’t numbness. There is nothing but a soul-deep, searing rage.

How dare he. How dare he.

It’s that rage that fills her when she gives the dagger to Killian Jones, the only man who can possibly know even a fraction of the betrayal she does. She feels like the girl in the mirror, harder and clearer and seeing truly at last. It was right. It was all right. Stupid little girl with her stupid little dreams. She’s woken up. She has grown up.

It’s that rage which fills her when Will Scarlet kisses her, both of them spending another lonely night down the Rabbit Hole, that perennial haunt of lost souls and broken hearts. When he pulls back, drunk and sheepish, and says, “Sorry, love, I didn’t -” she’s the one who looks back at him and thinks, decides, knows that it can’t be cheating, because how does that word have any meaning for her any more after the enormity of Rumple’s lies?

It’s not good, it’s not healthy, it’s not the right thing to do. But God, if she isn’t sick and fucking tired of doing the right thing and losing everything.

She leans back in and kisses him harder.

When they pull back for air, he whispers brokenly, “Maybe… If you didn’t want to be alone tonight…” in a voice which suggests he too can barely stand the loneliness.

Belle twists the place on her finger where her wedding band used to be. Makes up her mind.

"No," she breathes. "I don’t."

————-

It’s exciting, mostly. At first. She’s never been with any man but her husband, and e thrill of the forbidden is as exciting as anything. Will’s kisses are hesitant, but sweet, and Belle takes the lead, drawing him down on top of her, enjoying his unfeigned appreciation of her, her mouth, her neck and throat. But more than that, she can feel the broken places in him, and how hungrily they match with hers. It’s just going to be this, only ever this, a meeting in the darkness, and that makes her brave and light and free. They undress with tender, if fumbling hands, and his mouth on her nipple is warm and wet as she arches her back and moans. Lets him bear her down into the quilts, and into her.

Belle strokes his short hair, kisses his ear, breath coming in a hitching gasp as he slides home. Will Scarlet is many things, but no liar, and God, how good it is to know he’s touching her with no secrets, no masquerades, no dark plans or twisted promises. This is here, this is real, and she craves it desperately. Even after they have finished the first time, she barely lets him recover before she pulls him back for another go, and her release this time feels, for a sweet short while, like the weight of the world off her shoulders.

They don’t talk much, speaking in other ways. But near dawn, as she lies curls against him, she lifts her head and whispers, “Thank you.”