#annoying your siblings

[trialsofthedas]

Rook: *pulls back the curtain while Viago is showering*

Rook: Hey is this - put the knife away, it’s me - is this the normal box of chocolate or is this the one we poisoned to give to our enemies? I have a craving.

[devil-acid]

lu doodles based on the new chapter

[rubikor]

would you hold my face softly and tell me it will be alright?

[here-comes-the-moose]

Tech: *chilling in his room, minding his own business*

Crosshair: *appears in his doorway*

Tech: ???

Crosshair, pointing at him: Haha nerd.

Crosshair: *smacks something off the shelf before leaving*

[houseswife]

transgender detector going haywire rn…

[introspectivememories]

street interviewer: what's your type?

tim who's just trying to get to work: i have a boyfriend

street interviewer: so what's your type then?

tim: my boyfriend

street interviewer: and what does he look like?

tim who will absolutely gatekeep bernard from the general public: he looks like my boyfriend

street interviewer: so what would you rate me out of 10?

tim: um i can't do that

street interviewer: can't rate me at all?

tim: i can't rate you at all

street interviewer finally realizing that this is going absolutely nowhere: what would you rate your boyfriend out of 10?

tim smiling stupidly: he broke my scale cause he's so beautiful

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[shallowseeker]

I'm breaking this one out by itself because it's a little funny.

*Dean's phone rings*

*Dean answers without looking*

*Dean proceeds to yell at Cas*

Ah, right. What could possible be so important?

/////

Sam goes on to tell Dean that *drumroll* Sam is Lucifer's true vessel.

WOW! Scary!

DEAN: *sarcastically* Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh Sammy? SAM: That's it? That's your response?

It's... completely lost of Sam, though, the REASON for Dean's sarcasm.

See. It's this: now that Sam's found out that HE'S a vessel, he's in his car, an absolute FIRE lit under his goddamned tail, EAGER to get back in and fight.

Sam.

SAMMY.

🤦🤦🤦🤦

Dean throws a hint.

DEAN: *sarcastically again* I guess I'm a little numb to the earth-shattering revelations at this point. SAM: Well what are we gonna do about it?

And Sam... still doesn't get it.

Sigh.

Here's the thing. Sam wasn't panicking when they learned that Dean was a vessel. Only Cas and Bobby were panicked and stressed. They were mean, but they were at least aware of the reality of things.

But Sam.

Yes, Sam was going through things, struggling with things, and taking time to go through things is okay. But on the other hand, it definitely still hurts that Sam wasn't insisting on staying in the fight on Dean's behalf, to protect Dean from becoming a vessel.

But now that Sam's learned that he's a vessel?

Boom.

It's not even that, though. It's this whole conversation.

Because what's missing here? Empathy for Dean's plight.

Sam doesn't realize that this is why he's perpetually at... the kids' table. This right here.

In this whole conversation, Sam is eaten up with ranting about his own feelings, about how he's sick of being a puppet, and how he's going to hunt Lucifer down and gain redemption.

Sam's all about "how he can do this," how he's "gonna prove it to you."

It makes him seem a lot younger than he is.

....

There's no acknowledgment of how helpless Dean must have been feeling all this time, knowing that he's been targeted by an archangel, about how scary this whole thing is.

Hell, even Cas acknowledged Dean's fears re: Michael.

I mean: He did it in his Cas way, but it still acknowledged the enormity of the fear.

Cas:

///

Meanwhile, Sam back in 5x01, right after DEAN learned about being Michael's vessel: Geez, why is everyone so cranky and stressed?

🥺Dean, what do you mean that you didn't mean your pep talk to Bobby? Whaaaat? 🥺

///

....

And the thing is. Not "getting it"? That's understandable. But this conversation is just... devoid of support for Dean.

And they're not. Sam's zapping all the strength for himself.

When they've been together lately, Dean is the big brother who lends support, and Sam isn't giving anything back. Sam's out to prove himself, not to support others.

And they tell older siblings and parents to be patient, to let them learn, to step back and forgive, to be "a soft place to land."

That's hard to do. And it's exhausting.

And aside// Sam's apology to (demon) Bobby was SO MUCH NICER. Sam, where is this humility and energy for other people????

SAM: No, actually. Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry. Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal. I killed her, and I set Lucifer free. You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on. I'm sorry.

[kil9]

why are some autistic ppl like "dont worry Normal peers, just because im autistic doesnt mean i cant climb the social hierarchy and punch down at those below me" whats your problem

[ruushes]

you know i really expected to feel differently about gortash playing as the dark urge from what i'd seen of their relationship but i had the same gut reaction to meeting him at the coronation as last time i.e. an instant and urgent desire to beat his ass. conversely the first time around i didn't much care for orin but now. that's my baby sister. and she's never done anything wrong in her life including lobotomizing me. that's just sibling things.

[the-writing-goblin]

I feel like we all forget that Maedhros is, fundamentally, an Older Brother. I bet he’s insufferable about being the tallest. Sometimes he’ll just pick up his brothers to annoy them. Naughty little elves go in air jail.

He continues to do this in Beleriand btw. A human follower is like, I just saw Lord Maedhros pick up Lord Caranthir??? Like an angry kitten???? And their elven followers are like yea he does that. It’s even more of a power move now that he’s only got the one hand.

[rustedleopard]

I know that it's common fanon belief to see Starlo as the younger sibling between him and Orion, but I actually like the idea of Starlo being the older brother and what it means for his family dynamic. Generally, the older sibling is expected to be the more responsible and mature sibling in the family. There's this expectation that the older sibling sets an example for the younger sibling(s) and that they'll look after the family/business once the parents get too old to do so themselves. So, what does it mean when the older sibling sorta betrays those familial expectations by behaving immaturely and ditching the family to do their own thing?

I'm trying to figure out how to put this into words in a clear and concise way, but I feel like if it's a case of Starlo being the younger brother, then there's this sorta "Ah, that's just the younger brother acting like a kid, y'know how it is. He'll grow out of it" dynamic, whereas if Starlo is the older brother, then it's more of a "Okay, he should've grown out of this by now, why's he still acting like this? Even Orion is more mature than him; what is going on?" sorta deal. (This frustration would be especially felt by Orion, who has to pick up Starlo's slack in his stead because his older brother isn't mature enough to work like he's supposed to!!!)

These are just personal musings, don't take my word as gospel! You can still do tons of interesting things with the Sunnyside family while having Starlo be the younger brother and Orion the older one. I just find myself gravitating more towards seeing Starlo as the older sibling.

[eshithepetty]

I just think it'd be funny if post canon Ritsu and Reigen develop a brotherly relationship <3 together with the rest of the S&S crew and Shou and Teru they form the most messy found family ever

[ID: uncolored doodles of Reigen and Ritsu from Mob Psycho 100. In the first one, Ritsu is grabbing Reigen's lapels and kicking him, both of them angry, as if they are (play) fighting. In the next 2 doodles, Reigen's got his head in a cupboard, asking, "Who ate my pocky?!", and in the next panel, we see Ritsu sitting on a couch, eating pocky with a smug look on his face, as Reigen off-screen says "I swear to god if it's you Ritsu, again-". The next 2 doodles are of Ritsu laying his head against Reigen's chest, hands curled up, with Reigen looking surprised, and in the next one, he hugs Ritsu close, heaving a sigh and smiling. Inbetween these doodles, there is one of Reigen as a fox and Ritsu as a cat, Ritsu sleeping curled up next to him, and a small doodle of Ritsu smiling and throwing a peace sign, with text below it saying "space filler". End ID.]

[xplore-the-unknwn]

Charlie Barnett (Yord) and Dafne Keen (Jecki) behind the scenes. This duo is so cute 😆

they took them too soon 🥹 And Dafne refers to Charlie as her “annoying screen sibling” 😭

Yord and Jecki you will always be loved.

I miss them already.

[covertblizzard]

jaykyle au where they're theatre kids in the same school but they're not the actors jason's the scriptwriter/director and kyle is the prop manager (i don't know the official terms sorry) and they'd probably do an amazing job on the backstage setting if they could stop arguing for 5 whole seconds about their artistic visions and ideas and how "this would obviously work better this way"

[rubydubydoo122]

I think the funniest thing about how the Fandom perceives Tim (especially obnoxious Tim fans) is that he is was deeply hurt by the actions Jason, Damian, and Dick have done to him, but lowkey that’s just the fandom projecting

Tim lowkey did not give a fuck. Maybe a little at first, but he definitely does not hold a grudge against any of them.