#except maybe your soul

[obsessingoverl]

*hugs even tighter*

Fuck....

FUCK!

[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!"

[broken-clover]

It's eternally a little funny whenever I see someone say something along the lines of 'everyone in Strive is so happy now! Everyone's stories are getting resolved! It'll be hard to make a new game when everyone's retired and living peacefully and resolved their problems' and then there's a haunted semi-sentient mecha corpse in the corner constantly screaming from being trapped in limbo

[memento-mariii]

There's something I find hilarious about this perjorative korean incels (and honestly just about any korean website whose userbase tend to lean male; the incel problem is depressingly widespread and normalized here) use for non-misogynist men, "스윗남 (pronounced "sweet-nam")", that translates literally to "Sweet Man".

Like, that's just objectively not a bad thing to be??? Sorry that guys who actually respect women and have actual personalities get more pussy than you, bro. Maybe if you were a better person you'd get laid more.

It's just so embarrassingly obvious that they're just seething in jealousy 😂

EDIT: a TERF reblogged this so here's a reminder that trans women are women, trans men are men, and punching down at a group of fellow marginalized people who are *also* oppressed by the cisheteropatriarchal gender roles will not free us from the patriarchy.

[stardusteyes]

Black Souls can now be added to the pile amongst Nyarko-san, Demonbane, The Elder Sister-like One, Magic School Lussid, Ow My Sanity, and maybe Fate? For turning Lovecraftian Gods into Cute Anime Girls.

Cthulhu (and a couple of his kids), Nyarlathotep, Shub, Yog-Sothoth, Cthugha, Ithaqua, Atlach-Nacha, Nodens and at least one Shoggoth all got hit by the Magical Girl Beam (some multiple times, looking at YOU, Nyarl)

Even Hastur, the King in Yellow, and Yig, the Father of Serpents are here by technicality as shota femboys. And a catboy too, in Hastur’s case.

You cannot make this shit up.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

it's not like shes santa claus it's not to be taken that literally i know but it's so funny to think about episode 4 from rio's side of things

like shes been waiting for years to get the chance to threaten agatha with grievous bodily harm again and then she gets to, gets all ominous about it, probably expects agatha to run, maybe expects a fun little chase, probably doesnt necessarily immediately expect agatha of all witches to assemble some kind of misfit coven and get on The RoadTM

and then on her way to some poor soul she gets fuckin intercepted or maybe sped along by some spell that perhaps she can tell is agatha's doing i mean i dont know how that stuff works but if spells have fingerprints of the caster on them im sure rio knows agatha's, so shes like, Okay, Agatha, sure babe what are we playing, "i was in the neighbourhood ! :o", does a fucking jam session bc why not she has nothing better to do i guess, gets some Worrying insights immediately abt agatha and That boy, gets called away from her long weekend of agatha-stalking bc agathas proclaimed new best friends are doing as promised and dropping like flies

like this is hysterical. it's been 2 days

[clockworkbibliophile]

lord I am so exhausted of applying to dozens of jobs every week without getting a single response other than your application wasn’t selected. my current job is wrecking me and I am so burnt out and just want a job that pays well and doesn’t make me want to die 24/7. im at my wits end like who do I need to pay to make my resume/linkedin stand out because how do people hear back from jobs??? what am I doing wrong

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by my beloveds @cordiallyfuturedwight and @aprylynn for the july list <33 i'm terribly afraid the glen powell of it all got to me this july and thus..

you can find this country music for beginners playlist here and check out lizzy's guide to the delicate art of making a playlist for a breakdown from yours truly if you feel so inclined <33

tagging my musical favs if they haven't already: @thvinyl @kimtaegis @jihopesjoint @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @eoieopda @monismochi <333 and your lovely self reading this also

[tenderjock]

i do think the most interesting interpretation of btvs lore is that non-vampire demons and mystical entities ALL have souls, unless they sold, destroyed or otherwise got rid of them (like the mayor)

[secondlastk]

housemate is watching hxh atm and im legit mad about his killua takes

[piplupod]

mistakes were made. should not have gone to library today. i will be leaving the house all five days of the week now (plus we went to a waterside on sunday for several hours) and uhm... i feel like i need to go hibernate for several weeks to feel even remotely okay again fhdkdl i am so tired i can barely think enough to string words together in any comprehendable way 🧍<- upset

[hereforyourdispleasure]

Darian and Azriel unintentional similarities that have always made me teehee

literally born the same year

older sibling

trans

[icewindandboringhorror]

me everytime I am preparing a meal with multiple elements I have to balance so they all finish cooking at the same time: Wow this is just like the 2009 hit Nintendo Wii game 'Food Network: Cook Or Be Cooked'

[clarafell]

like this post to get a random homura in your inbox.

[ranvwoop]

for aforementioned gem au. fusions. techno is known to be Good At It. he's awesome at pretending to be put together enough. He can put aside whatever is going on for the task at hand. (there is, also, an aspect of being A Means To An End but he says he doesn't need to worry about that until it bubbles over and he does have to worry about that.). Phil + Techno are called Watermelon Malachite and they have this absolutely down.

Ranboo is the opposite end of the spectrum and he is awful at it. They try sometimes. Phil tries to teach him and Techno tries to teach him and I'm not sure if Tubbo is a gem but if he was they try because it's #Romantic (and Tommy says c'mon man it's easy, don't you trust me, ohh wait you just fuse with Tubbo don't you). He can't do it. It simply does not take.

Until Ranboo gets poofed for wayyy too long and they put his gems in his room. He is NOT coming out. (He is afraid because of identity reasons. Experiments analogous). Eventually Phil and Techno are like ... .... he's not like Dead are they. So they try fusing w/ him as a last resort (As shown is possible in EP Change your mind, for some reason)

Except now Technoblade is stuck in Ranboo's subconscious as well . He has to talk and coax him out, heartfelt conversation which is absolutely the strong suit of both parties,

and my long and convoluted explanation for why No ranboo doesn't fuse. but also peerpress fusion is a very fancy Eudialyte (That exists consciously for a whole 3 minutes of Hey! That's neat! before becoming unstable and unconsciously for an undetermined amount of time facedown on ranboo's floor)

[corvuscorona]

hey. hey. hey. hey. hey so in ff16 they give you a flash step that goes forward but when you're a big monster (happens for setpiece boss fights only) they give you a roller skating move that goes sideways instead. but then there's a fight where they give your monster form a forwards flash step too.

and IN THAT SAME BOSS FIGHT, you need to do it Twice in a row to close the distance between "outside the big AOE attack" and "guy you need to punch after he does the AOE" & this sums up basically everything you need to know about how AGGRESSIVELY MEDIOCRE the combat really is in this game.

anybody who tells you it's good is either lying or is remembering 1 of like 2 and a half really nicely-tuned fights, one of which was optional. and the health bars were still too fucking stubborn in all of them.