#And eventually succeeded

[greypetrel]

Ooh "a tentative, exploratory kiss between friends" because I'm curious about the first one between Aisling and Cullen 👀 but if there's someone it fits better, that's okay too!

You have wonderful timing, I was about to write this for the next fic chapter. 💜🤣 (Spoiler? If anyone here follows the Wordy Monster.)

The chapter have more build up and Science Bros making things explode (themselves included). You can read it here!

Following the original cutscene because I honestly find it cute, adding here and there (and modifying a line because it doesn’t make sense for them anymore and I didn’t really like in the original, as usual it’s a “It could have been phrased better)

Tis the prompt list

"a tentative, exploratory kiss between friends"

That really won’t do.

The morning’s War Council has been a disaster. Josie was talking about the preparations and uniforms for the Ball and how everything was ready for the fittings, and silks and whatever and guests- And Aisling didn’t listen to one word. She couldn’t, because Cullen was frowning at a pile of reports, brows furrowed in concentration and eyes intent, focused on the task ahead. He looked good, his cheeks seemed fuller and he wasn’t that pale. Maybe the last brew she gave him worked better, she should ask him. Go back in professional mode, yes, that she could do. As long as he was healthy and she could keep him so, maybe make him smile and laugh once in a while, it was ok if he thought she dislikes him. It didn’t make him less kind towards her, less of a friend. And yet, she was longing for more, the very word “friend” is too little, getting stretched more and more. She was longing to just cup his face and yell at him that she didn’t care, she never cared if not in a foolish moment when she thought he was scared of her, and she didn’t want him to be afraid or uncomfortable, not anymore and not with her. She was too concentrated on noticing how his hair almost looked silver when hit in full sunlight. She was wondering how that scruffle would feel under her hands, rubbing on her cheeks and under her lips. And-

- and, she was brought down back to earth from her reverie by a smirking Leliana who made a too witty, too knowing joke about her daydreaming. Aisling grumbled that she was just tired, she slept little the last night, and Leliana just -smirking horribly- suggested her to count lions before sleeping. Josie snorted a laugh, and Cullen just sighed, begging them all to please go back to work, too concentrated, luckily, on his reading to mind that Aisling just turned the exact shade of red of the velvet Josephine was favouring for their uniforms.

This really won’t do, not at all, she couldn’t go on like this. She refuses to start blabbering.

So, she decided to do what the grown-up, responsible First of Keeper Deshanna Isthimatorial Lavellan would do. Open up and confess, come clean and start again. Whine a little over it, cry, get drunk with Dorian, Sera and Bull and get on with her life. She and Cassandra were friends, now, it hasn’t been easy, but they made it.

The plan is simple: go to his office, ask him for five minutes alone. Tell him that she has this stupid crush on him and please, ignore any weird behaviour from her, and please, let’s stay friend and keep things just as they were before. Assure him that she never disliked him on principle, she would never have approached him. Now that she knows she just admires him greatly for realising his situation and acting towards a real change, it wasn’t easy. And then, once everything was out and she had nothing else to hide and overthink about, she would have just got on with her life, less uneasy from all those secrets.

On paper, it looks easy.

As she stands there, staring at his door with a raised hand, stalling before knocking, it’s one of the most difficult think she could think of. A part of her mind is screaming to just… run for cover, take her horse and spend the time until the Ball with Keeper Hawen’s clan. Dig a hole in the garden to bury herself into, become fertilizer for the elfroot, it would just be fitting for her.

The other part, tho, knows better. The other part has the voice of Cole and of Radha and knows she needs to spit it out for it to go away, and go on with their lives.

So, she takes a deep breath, checks another time she’s in good order, fixing her doublet -the nice one, the one in teal velvet and golden buttons and pointy shoulder pieces that matches her Vallaslin- on her trousers, combing her hair more tidily behind her ears- Or maybe not? Are they too big? No, no, ok, that’s a stupid doubt. Combing her hair more tidily behind her ears. And with a big breath and a small prayer to Mythal for strength, she knocks.

He seems surprised to see her. It’s not lunch time, and he’s a little confused to see her so early. Asks her if something happened, jumping to emergency mode and leaving his desk, reaching for his sword instinctively. At least, seeing him so full of nerves helps in calming her down. A little, at least. Just enough to ask him, after some formalities and small talk about health and the situation in the Keep, if he has some minutes to speak with her.

Alone.

She puts emphasis on the adjective, bracing herself for a refusal, some frowning, some scolding because he has evidently, by the amount of paper piles on his desk, a lot of work to do and no time to lose with a silly elf that should be working and isn’t. And yet, he just fumbles more, puzzled by the “Alone”, and… And just leaves everything as it is and opens the door for her, leading her to the battlements and walking by her side.

Silence, between them, has always been comfortable, it has been from the start of their friendship, none really needing to fill the silence or force the other to speak at all costs. Which is something Aisling never likes to do, if she hasn’t anything to say. Cullen never required words, never expected her to speak and put her at ease. Now, their silence is charged, both embarrassed by a single, decisive word that the elf is now rethinking and reconsidering again and again. They pass the second tower. And the third.

“It’s… A nice day.” It’s Cullen, finally, to break the silence.

Except that Aisling is yet again in her own head, screaming internally as words elude her. And, allegedly, realising he’s speaking to her with half a minute of late. Enough that she just has to ask him: “What?”

Another pause, they both look at the other not knowing what to do.

“It’s…” He starts, rubbing his neck, but decides better right away, shaking his head and looking at her, instinctively straightening up. “There was something you wished to discuss.”

She nods, nervously. Here. That’s it. Moment of truth. Mythal have mercy, or tell Elgar’nan to open the earth and swallow her whole.

“Cullen, I care for you, and I-” She stops, words dying in her throat again, realising that he’s looking at her in the eyes and she really has not the guts for it. So, Aisling groans, averting her eyes and sighing, looking down.

“What’s wrong?” And now he sounds worried. Great.

“You left the Templars… But you wrote in your letter implying that the majority of people still dislikes you on principle. And…” A pause, trying to recollect her thoughts. “… I wanted you to know that I never disliked you on principle. And that I’m very sorry if I ever gave you this impression, really. But…”

He tries to reply, but she raises a hand, signalling to no, please, let her finish. He gets it. She’ll be damned because he somehow always gets what she’s saying, is probably the only one that had never troubles understanding her messy cursive, and right now it makes her heart clench because she’s about to ruin it.

“… but I know we’re friends, and… Well. I also know that you don’t have the best experiences with Mages…” She swallows. Spit it out, da’len, don’t let it poison you. “… Could you think of me as anything more than just that? Than an Apostate and… And a friend…?”

There. It’s not direct. It’s not blunt, because right now she can’t deal with directness. She hopes it’s enough, as she shily turns her head to peek at him, see what he’s doing and his expression.

“I could.”

He blurts out, abruptly, without a hint of hesitation in his voice. Aisling perks up, mouth open and eyes big in surprise and wonder at his admission, looking at him in the eyes.

"Wait... What?"

Wrong thing to ask, apparently, even if it burst out of pure surprise, out of needing a confirmation that she, indeed, has understood correctly and it's not just deluding herself. The result, all in all, is that Cullen shies away immediately, a hand coming up to rub his neck and turning away. He starts to walk again, as he fumbles with words again. Aisling just follows him, hope blossoming in her chest and butterflies doing evolutions in her stomach.

“I-I mean. I-I do.” A pause. “Think of you.” He starts to massage his temples. “… And what I might say in this sort of situation.”

She trots after him, heart hammering fast in her throat.

“What’s stopping you?” She asks, managing to slip in front of him and turn to face him, arresting his steps. The irony is not lost to both, and they exchange a smile as he, indeed, stops.

“You’re the Inquisitor, and we’re at war.” He states a note of regret in his voice. “And, you’re my friend. My best friend, before of everything else and I… I didn’t want to ruin it. Also I…” He sighs, shaking his head. “…I didn’t think it was possible.”

“And yet I’m still here.” She smiles, encouragingly. She can’t help but smiling, as she steps back to rest against the wall in a crenelle, both hands propped on the border. Heart full and near to bursting.

He smiles back, cheeks flushed pink as hers, stepping forward slowly to get closer. And closer.

“It seems too much to ask…”

“I’m your best friend, right? I don’t mind doing you a favour. If you want to, we can try...” She banters, half that and half fumbling herself, speaking too quickly and with not much sense, tying strings together just to fill the silence and vent some restlessness.

“… I want to.” If she’s restless and hyped, he’s soft and delicate, placing a hand over hers on the stone, looking at her right in the eyes as he gets closer and closer.

She’s pinned in place, she can just nod when he furrows just a little, to silently ask for permission, the way he does when they play chess, words are over and he asks her if he can move. The same way they communicate if they’re all right from one side to the other of the War Table. Aisling closes her eyes, floating in anticipation, feeling his breath -delicate, still, he must be keeping it, smelling faintly like elfroot and the herbs she put in his brew- she’s leaning minutely forward and their lips brush against each other, very tentatively before-

“Commander.”

He draws back, inhaling sharply through his nose. Aisling, on her own, thrown back to earth too abruptly, lowers her gaze and turns her head away from the newcomer, clearing her throat and straightening her spine.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.” The Scout continues, and as Aisling looks at him, he has his head bent down on a writing board, not looking at where he goes or his surroundings.

She is grateful that he doesn’t, because like that he probably missed the Commander and the Inquisitor being far too close for propriety’s sake, and at the same time she knows that Cullen will get absolutely pissed by that attitude. He surely barked against her enough times in drills to always, always, mind your surroundings, how many enemies are around, terrain.

“What?” As on clue, Cullen barks, seething in irritation as he turns from her and marches to the poor, still incredibly unaware Scout.

“Sister Leliana’s report, sir, you wanted it delivered right away.” The Scout seraphically goes on, calm as if it was asking a friend to pass him the salt during a picnic on a sunny day.

Finally he raises his head, and Aisling can see all colour draining from his face. She’s trying her best to merge with the surroundings and pretend she’s not there, or she’s invisible, but she can’t help looking. Looking as the Scout suddenly realizes that he manages to step on at least three buttons of Commander Rutherford, enough to have him silent and most likely with a murderous expression on his face - again, Aisling knows that look he has with the particularly arrogant recruits that have him repeat very simple questions twice, explaining his work to him. The Scout looks at her, finally, and before Aisling snaps her head and eyes on the other side of the battlements, clearing her throat eloquently, she spots him absolutely terrified, putting 2 and 2 together.

“Or… Or…” The poor boy swallows. “… or to your office! R-right!”

It’s almost comical how he retreats walking backwards, not leaving Cullen’s eyes as one would do with some sort of wild animal very angry at you. As if he was afraid that by turning and running, the Commander would have understood that he was prey to run after, and jumped at his throat.

As the door to the guard tower slams behind the Scout again, Aisling speaks.

“Cullen, if you need to- oomph!”

He’s on her abruptly, heavily and roughly. He doesn’t really centre her mouth at first, and needs to readjust. But like that, he scrubs his beard against her face, slightly, and it’s rough and blissful and very weird, in a good sense. He cups her face, keeping her close and moving her slightly for a better position. She closes her eyes and kisses him back, not knowing where to put her hands. Tentatively, she decides that his ribcage, on his sides, is a good position. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least, when he moves away, red till the point of his ears, smiling goofily at her, eyes sparkling.

“I’m- I’m sorry. That was… Uh, that was nice.” He sounds not really convinced. It could be shyness, or not, she needs to know.

“… You don’t regret it, do you? I mean, we can always pretend it never happened, go on as before…” She prods, offering him a way out. She wouldn’t be able to go on as before, but she can try.

He just looks at her, tho, awestruck as if it is the first time he really sees her. Sees her for real, eyes shining and a smile not leaving his lips, bending his scar just so in that way she likes. She really hopes he doesn’t regret it, tho, because she doesn’t want him to look at her in any other way than this, and moreover she really, really wants to kiss him again. Kiss him better. Longer.

“No!” He answers her, and they both smile wider, one following the other. “No, not at all… Do you?”

“Mh. I’m not really sure. Care to try again? For science?”

And yet, she moves slightly closer, not going the full way, but making it clear that she’s up to it. He laughs, shaking his head and resting his forehead against hers, thumbs gently caressing her jaw where they’re still placed.

“Yes. Well…”

They try again. Slower, more tentatively, savouring the moment more. Aisling hugs him properly after a minute -she restrained herself-, bringing him closer despite his armour and cape. It’s really different than Ydun, it’s less soft and less delicate, movement less precise. It’s ten times better – more heartfelt, for once.  She manages to shift a little and indeed kiss his scar, humming in contentment, before Cullen seems to remember something and moves a little back, concern on his still flushed face.

“I- I wanted to say, forgive me for what I wrote. I never… it came out wrong, I’m awful with letters that aren’t report, I didn’t mean to say that I think you disliked me on principle, I don’t think that. It’s just that… I mean-”

He’s fumbling so much, looks so concerned even if he stull is blushing madly, ears deliciously pink. He’s fumbling so much that she starts to laugh, slipping her arms in front of him, her turn to cup his face and bring him back for another kiss - regretting she did wear gloves today, but she guess it would mean they’ll have to do it again.

“Shut up.” She tells him, giggling as she kisses him again. And again.

[bet-on-me-13]

The cult of...Danny Fenton?

So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.

He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.

So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.

They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.

They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.

Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.

Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"

After his birthday, they kept up the joke.

It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.

Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!

He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.

Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."

[cubbihue]

Vhnemdkjf purble irep! Can we see more fairy irep and anti-fairy peri?

Yup!! During their schooling, where the most amount of swaps happened, the two would end up swapping in more than just color palettes!

Sometimes Peri would get caught scheming and plotting Irep's demise (Revenge for Ruining his Science Project). Or Irep will get caught doing something very nice and wholesome for another Fairy (Helping a new student find their way around school).

Just as Anti Cosmo and Cosmo has a bit of each other's personalities mixed up, Peri and Irep has a bit of an overlap in behaviors, haha. They both love to monologue, for example. The more swaps a pair does, the more mixed they get!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[sforzesco]

I got. thoughts. about valens and voices in imperial roman history. but I also got a lot of thoughts about uhhhhhh choosing your brother for co ruling the Fratricide Foundation Story Empire. many thoughts about themistius' oration too

Brotherly Love, Themistius (trans. Peter Heather & David Moncur)

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / insta

[transingthoseformers]

I've been thinking about that au where Sentinel never betrayed the thirteen and D-16 & Orion Pax never become miners

I've been thinking, if D-16 goes on to join the High Guard and is connected to Megatronus Prime, what if Orion Pax goes on to work in the archives and is connected to Alpha Trion?

They'll meet eventually, in much different circumstances than they did in canon

I'm thinking the war with the Quintessons is still ongoing, and I'm thinking the thirteen are still going to go down one way or another

...kinda torn on whether I want this to be an au without the Great Cybertronian War, or if it just finds a different way to happen...

[bonefall]

ougghhh everyone’s talking so fondly about lionpaw and his new friendships made by the ripwater event but all i can think about is his mention of ashfur’s comment. and how lion probably thinks it’s just a little joke but ash might actually mean it :(

There's this little pearl of a theme hidden in the Ripwater Episode, if you look carefully; abuse acts on people in insidious but subtle ways.

It's Mistystar who's defensive of asking for help or admitting a problem, thinking of what she did to Leopardstar and also repeating cultural sentiment that once victimized her herself.

It's Squirrelflight shouting at her daughter for acting like she used to, because she's spent some years being yelled at in a similar way

It's Hollypaw who isn't allowed to enjoy her achievement of saving Otterpaw's life or lean into how much she has in common with Lakepaw, because she's ashamed of how she did something "wrong" by snooping

And lastly, it's Lionpaw, who's starting to believe the vicious comments that Ashfur says about him. I referenced Willowpelt partially for the sweet little irony of him teaching her recipe to her unknown grandson, Ripplepaw, but ALSO because Ashfur is starting to isolate him.

Willowpelt is the Head of Hunting, currently, a position that Lionblaze is going to succeed her in. I don't think Ashfur is playing 4D chess quite yet, but there's a couple of little motivations knocking around in Ashfur's heart for why he's nasty whenever Lionpaw interacts with her;

Ashfur hates Willowpelt, because of the events from Ferncloud's Parting. He isn't aggressive to her directly, but he does spread rumors and slander whenever possible, happy to remind others of her exile.

Lionpaw getting close to Willowpelt will annoy him. Ashfur both hates and resents his apprentice, but also feels POSSESSIVE of him. He feels like Willowpelt will "steal" what's his.

A simple but hard truth; Ashfur wants Lionpaw to hurt. Maybe Ashfur sees it in his head like "telling the hard truth" or "toughening his apprentice up," but when he makes those malicious little comments, makes him recoil with hurt, it feels righteous.

Maybe in the next draft, it should actually be Ashfur, not Blackclaw, who comes to growl at Lionpaw for bonding with Lakepaw over the spears. Maybe have Willowpelt come in to show them how to properly use one and that's actually what set Ash off. Like he just used xenophobia because it was convenient in that moment.

[zer0point5ive]

do you wanna do it reverse bear tonight. shit sorry babe i mean the cowgirl trap. fuck i mean the revers

[girlivealwaysbean]

it's not sinking in that today might be the last day in my house and town for many months to come

[breezycheezyart]

Can you draw the other members of team Voltron? I'd love to see what they'd look like in your art style <3

I honestly have not drawn the other paladins in a long time, so this was very fun to do! I wanted to incorporate their respective elements, just as a treat! 😊

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Tired of dealing with this thing

Erich was the only one who succeeded the fear test against the kraken so he had to pull everyone else into the boat while this thing was attacking him the entire time. This is a reminder that Erich has godawful physical attributes and being able to save everyone was literally on a hairs breadth with these rolls

This is why you don't shoot at the mermaid

[cashweasel]

🏨 gimme those blorbo rooms fdsfdsfsfsd, since it’s Pinterest can I ask for more than one? XD if so ima ask to Karimas and Shaheens OH and also Gideons (low key I know what valens/yazans looks like but its a good excuse for u to get to share) so if u want to Valens and Yazans wild be fun 😌

K BYEEE <3 😘

LOLL im glad you asked and yes i will give you all of them 😌😂😂

Karima: she’s obsessed with collecting room decor and she has a crochet corner, half of her decor is crocheted too honestly 😂 I think she also has a thing for animal print stuff esp curtains and pillow cases, she’d keep small ceramics stuff she made with daemon everywhere

Shaheen: idk why it was funny to imagine his college dorm lol he uses space very efficiently also his desk is very important 🧠

Gideon: his room is so big and so empty but he’s barely home so who cares, the only notable thing about it besides the diabolical toys collection on display is the display cabinet he keeps all his medals, plane models, pictures, uniforms etc in

Yazan: yazan’s room as you know is a Dumpster 😂 it’s impossible to find anything in there and it’s never tidy, also so many posters and records + ofc drum corner

Valen: very pretty but his room is an entire house in itself you need directions to where everything is 💀 Texas king bed with a canopy, mirror above bed/on ceiling, maximalist unique decor and very beautifully coordinated color wise. Also huge portraits of himself obviously lol

[OC headcanons: Picture Edition!]

[musclesandhammering]

Pet peeve: nobody ever includes Timely in the found family :(

[gintrinsic-writing]

Trust, and Its Destruction

CW: violence

--

Lightning streaked across the sky amid black, cascading clouds. Where it struck, no living thing remained. 

“Fall back!” Warriors roared over the clamor—over hungry gibdos’ screeching, thunderous booms, and ringing steel. Burn marks covered nearly half of his torso. They promised to be lethal if not treated soon. “Four! Fall back!”

But how could he? How could Four simply run when it was a friend—a brother—whose blood fed the darkness they faced? Never again, came the thought, and it echoed in his mind four separate times. 

Eyes flashing violet, Four slashed through the belly of the nearest monster, then raced toward the center of the courtyard. Fire singed his hair as dodged magical attacks, and he struggled to breathe through all the smoke. Not thirty feet to his left, Wind tried to drag Legend’s unconscious body away from the mayhem. Time covered them, dimly lit by Nayru’s Love. Even from a distance, Four thought he could make out Legend’s left lung in the crater of his chest. 

“Four, you can’t save him!” It was Sky, this time, who called for a retreat. Sky, who fought swiftly and brutally, but who couldn’t last against the sheer numbers sent their way. Defending Sky’s back, drenched in the blood of monsters, Twilight snarled like the wolf he was as he decapitated a bokoblin. Wild was nowhere to be seen.

Can’t save him, can’t save him, can’t save him! It lingered like a curse, a seed sprouting past and present failures, dooming Four to grief before he even had a chance to make a difference. Still, he didn’t let it stop him. He slashed his way to the courtyard, using the Roc’s Feather to leap past debris in the way. Forks of lightning struck at his heels, near-deafening in their proximity.  Four ran, and he stabbed, and he hoped, and then he came face-to-face with the person at the center of it all. 

Sparks ignited above each of Hyrule's fingers as he prepared another devastating attack. His sword still dripped with Legend’s blood. 

“Snap out of it!” Four pleaded. “I know you’re still in there, Hyrule!”

Hyrule paused, tilting his head to one side. His dispassionate eyes stared from within a haze of dark power. “It makes no difference,” he said simply. Uhurried, unbothered.

“It makes all the difference!” Four argued, unable to keep from flinching when he heard Warriors cry out in pain from somewhere behind him. “You aren’t Ganon’s puppet. Fight him! I know you can.”

Hyrule smiled, and somehow that was worse than the emptiness he’d shown before. “I’d always thought that my blood could revive the King of Evil…” Suddenly, the sparks above his fingers erupted into white-hot flames. “But as it turns out, power like that can attach to any soul.”

Dread pooled in Four’s gut. “No. No, this isn’t you! I refuse to believe it.”

“Believe it or not,” Hyrule purred, and the darkness around him surged. “I’ll destroy you all the same.”

[mojaves]

christ, forgive these bones i've been hiding, and the bones i'm about to leave

[snixx]

i don't want to delete this account because my blogs attached to it are like a log of my life all the way back from high school and i love that but damn it i want to delete tumblr

[enbyjane]

The Mentalist & Mary Oliver poems

Excerpt from "Dogfish" Little Crazy Love Song Mornings at Blackwater Excerpt from "In Blackwater Woods" The Uses of Sorrow I Go Down To the Shore A Voice From I Don't Know Where