#don't wanna get older

[teenagechildtyphoon]

HELL YEAH IT'S MY BIRTHDAY

[full-of-pain]

Done trying to be someone I’m not

Welcome back old habits I have missed u so much…

[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!"

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 84

Amity Park absolutely adores her little ghostling, her little Gatekeeper who was of her own ectoplasm, reborn from her own blood in the center of her new heart. She absolutely adores her baby, practically a newborn, being only a year dead! 

So of course she had to gush and boast about her little phantom to the other city spirits! They all got together to gossip sometimes after all. And both Smallville and Fawcett started to gush about their own little ones back! 

Gosh they should set up a playdate at some point, her little phantom could use some friends in the mortal realm. Well some more friends, three is obviously not enough. Oh, Gotham and Bludhaven have come over as well! It’s a playdate then! 

Now if only each of their world’s timelines were synced up, but at least everyone is around the same age! 

[cappycodeart]

MORE OF SHARED CUSTODY WINTER! Ah… love watching this perfect little pretty boy go through his ugly cringefail phase, 💕. These doodles are kinda chronological... kinda... top 2 are in babyworld and bottom 3 are obviously in vampworld (also 4th one is a totally legit wow he was there the whooooole tiiiiime edited screenshot, hehe).

[jade-len]

Me, fully prepared to be a little ass: If I were a horrible person and killed a bunch of people, would you report me to the police? lol

My older brother: Even if you were a monster, i'd protect you. I wouldn't be able to bring myself to hate or punish you. You turning out that way would be my fault because I should've been a better sibling. In the end, you'll always be my responsibility, and more importantly, my younger brother. I'll always love you.

Me, about to fucking bawl my eyes out: Hey what the fuck

so anyways after careful consideration and recollecting, that's how i came to the devastating realization that my older brother was a yue qingyuan kinnie.

[s2pdoktopus]

Something's deeply wrong with the fictional older siblings...

[canisalbus]

happy birthday! 💕🎉🌻

I really hope it’s a lovely one!!!

Oh thank you! ;-; 🧡

[sofiaisanalien]

I love him so much

[lgbtlunaverse]

ok, people who've read erha, help me out here: are there any moments in volume 6 and 7 in particular that you'd warn someone for?

My 13 year old sister is reading the series – which. she probably shouldn't. But I'm not her mom and I remember what it was like being 13 so I'm not snitching to our actual mom either – but we did have a talk about the content that would be too much for her to handle and she said that she knows it's an 18+ book and there's rape in it, but that all happens in the first 2 or 3 volumes so she skipped those.

(the way she consumes media is very spoiler-forward. She'll often know most of a story's plot via summaries or internet posts before actually starting it, so she gets the gist of what happened in earlier volumes without having to read them)

Now, she'll be getting volume 6 and 7 as gifts this christmas, and she told me she actually hasn't seen many spoilers for that part of the story yet. So I just want to know if she's correct in her assumtpion that those two won't contain any noncon. I haven't read erha, I'm only familiar with it through fandom osmosis, so I wanted to ask someone who did. I trust her to stop if she needs to, but it'd be useful to give her a heads up for what to look out for and where because she is still a kid.

[giantkillerjack]

There is a horror in that moment

The kind that makes most folks look away

That moment

When you realize

The Pain

Will not be stopping.

I'm writing a book in which

The main character goes through the same thing

And I'm stuck because

How do you write a scene like that?

Where do you put it in the story?

When does it finally dawn on him?

Not only the knowledge that

dancing

running

skipping

jumping

walking

fucking

working

adventuring

Living

will never be the same.

But when will it dawn on him that his last day of painlessness was months ago, and he didn't even know it at the time? (didn't even get to say goodbye)

Maybe that's why they say dawn breaks.

Maybe I'm stuck because I've never seen it anywhere else.

(maybe that's why I felt all alone in my mourning)

(maybe that's why I'm writing a book)

I've never seen a story where there were days of pain and days of ease, and then the days without pain got fewer and fewer until one day, it was just

Pain.

And of course my character, he waits

And waits

And waits

And works

And searches

And pleads

And yet the rest of his life

Suddenly stretches before him

Horrifically long, unthinkably long, with the knowledge that from now on,

Every Day Will Be A Pain Day.

Every second

Of every minute

Of every hour day week month year

For forever

For forever

For forever

For forever

For forever

For forever

For forever

How many scenes do I write

of him mourning?

And - before he finds the acceptance that even allows for mourning -

How many scenes of that horrific slow-sudden frantic-panicked suspicion of the truth?

How does one draw (it's a graphic novel) the face of a man (his name is David)

struck with that kind of strangling grief?that choking half-denial?

That silent scream of horror given sound?

How many people tell him they are sure it will be fine even as he feels himself falling further?

How many of them fail to understand until they are gone from his life?

How many times does he blame himself?

How many times is he right?

Don't get me wrong

It's a hopeful story

Really.

It has a happy ending

And that happy ending happens

On a pain day.

I just hope I can tell my story good enough to show

What that means and

Why it matters.

I just hope we can be seen.

[full-of-pain]

[thebluelittlewitch2-thesequel]

Buncha women and some green losers

[chemzee]

More Perfumer!AU babies! Now featuring the character it was named after and Warrington twins :]

Kept these 3 a secret bc their stories are one of my most fav (and most tragic I'd say lol)

Kind of funny how this all started because I got and really like the wheel outfit that made me go "haha Melly is such a Vera Nair kinnie" and now we're here. Full on AU with it's own separate plot. Over an outfit on account I lost access to. Rip 💔

Part 1 (Daniel, Morgan and Lottie + explanation behind this AU)

Elma Carroll is a mysterious new shop keeper on Diagon Alley, who sells unique perfumes, capable of magically changing their scent. Some claim to have known her back at Hogwarts, seeing her walk through the hallways on occasions, but her past still remains a mystery. A secret she never discloses.

Truth is, she's a metamorphmagus who used I to go by Melly Anscombe. After realizing she can't keep on living as Melly, yet not wanting to become her real self (Willow Varian)again, she takes an opportunity to fake her death to run away once again to live as brand new identity, hoping that this time, things will be ok.

Ivy Warrington is an amnesiac young baker, still youthful and fun in her behavior, despite looking older than her age. Once a talented spellcaster, right before she graduated, her memory was almost fully wiped, now not remembering anything from her past, unaware of why people around her look at her with such sorrow.

However, there's still something deep inside her that can recall some faint memories from her past. She feels safe and around her family, her redheaded healer, an artistic journalist, her sister's coworker and the fancy looking, nice smelling lady who comes to her humble bakery every single day.

Winifred Warrington is a guarded auror, working alongside Cassandra Vole. Incredibly talented at charms, her emotions get better of her sometimes, especially whenever she recalls the terrible experiences of her past.

After her final conversation with Ivy in Year 4, she decided to cut all ties with her family the moment she graduates, staying by Cassandra's side to stay away from family that she no longer felt like she belonged to or felt safe with. However, after Ivy lost her memories completely, a part of her feels guilty for not being there to be the one to protect her, for not giving her a second chance. She stays with Ivy sometimes, trying to make up for all the lost moments, now that she understands that what happened between them wasn't Ivy's fault.

[someobscurereference]

Insane over the awakening trio again. We fought a war together, saved each other multiple times, and I know for a fact I can trust you with my life. We have never learned to socialize normally so we can't interact in a normal environment for five seconds without dunking on each other. I would follow you through time and space and abandon everything with you. You are the living reminder of every awful thing that have ever happened to me. Our traumas make us hurt each other at every turn. We're the only ones who know what lead to each other becoming Like That. Our jobs are barely in the same area and we don't even hang out that much outside of necessities. You are all I have left. I cannot fucking understand you. I am the only one in this entire world who has the ability to even try to.

x

[itischeese]

behold! a kakaobi painting from literally months ago!