#rel: family

[lannasroleplaymemes]

Muse Relationship Dynamics

Send a symbol (or more than one) to indicate the type of relationship you think our Muses could have! Be sure to specify who is what role and name Muse(s) for Multimuses!

Biological/Adoptive Family 🍏 Parent/Guardian & Child 🍎 Step-Parent/Guardian & Step-child 🍐 Older/Younger Sibling 🍊 Stepsiblings 🍋 Twins 🍌 Cousins 🍉 Aunt/Uncle & Nephew/Niece 🍇Grandparent / Grandchild

Platonic 🐸 New/Developing Friendship 👶 Childhood Friends ▲ Best Friends ◆ Friends Of Circumstance ♫ Reluctant Friends ♠ Secret Friends ♝ Found Family ☔ Enemies To Friends ❤ Ex-Lovers To Friends 🔮 Queerplatonic 💋 Bad/Good Influence

Professional ◎ Classmates 🍸 Coworkers/Business Partners ✔️ Employer/Employee ❂ Teacher/Mentor & Student 💧 Roommates/Housemates 💃 Partners In Crime

Romantic€ Mutual Unknown Longing ➣ One-Sided Crush ♞ Unrequited Love ♔ One Night Stand 👠 Friends With Benefits 🌹 Long-Distance Relationship 📘 Newly Started Romance 💄 Boyfriends/Girlfriends/Partners 🌼 Fiancees 💘 Newlyweds 💍 Husbands/Wives/Spouses ✌ Soulmates ♊ Arranged Marriage 💀 Enemies To Lovers ♧ Friends To Lovers 🎩 Ex-Lovers 🎱 Exes Back To Lovers 🍛 Polyamorous Partners 🐞 Forbidden/Taboo Love

Tension/Dramatic 🎭 Frenemies/Fake Friends 🌸 Rivals 🐦 One-Sided Rivalry 🚦 Enemies 🍁 Betrayer/Betrayed 🛌 Unhealthy Exes € Friends To Enemies 💐 Lovers To Enemies 💦 Bully/Victim 🍭 Enemy-Of-A-Friend 🍗 Cheater/Cheated On ✤ Falling Out Of Love Ұ Dwindling Friendship

Strangers 🔴 Acquaintances 🟣 Idol/Superstar & Fan 🔵 Worker & Customer 🟢 Neighbors

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rel: enemy #rel: friends #rel: family #rel: couple #rel: intro #type: mun #type: symbol

[talisidekick]

If a transgender person asks you to deadname and misgender them in front of certain people. Misgender them and deadname them in front of those people. It doesn't matter how icky or gross it may feel, it doesn't matter you'd rather be honest. It doesn't matter if there's more of you there. Certain people aren't safe, and honesty IS NOT the best policy when honesty could put them at serious risk. It doesn't matter if there's a crowd, because when there isn't shit goes down.

Be an ally, do what they ask. Understand that the trans person knows more about their situation than you do, and this includes who's safe and who's not. Some one can be "trans friendly" to other people, but not to people they know or specific people. Do as the trans person asks, yes it's uncomfortable, but it's 10 times worse if the person we don't trust finds out. 100 times worse if they have access to us when you're not around.

Respect trans peoples safety. Misgender and deadname when asked.

#trans #transgender #lgbt+ #lgbtq+ #2slgbtqia+ #lgbt #transfem #transmasc #transneutral #there is a post about this on my blog but it reminded me of my own situation #my whole family knows I'm out and I didn't want them to #my entire extremely christian catholic and mormon extended family knows because I let my sister tell my parents because we weren't talking #now I live in constant damn fear I'm going to get a message forwarded from family to the point I blocked my own parents #these are dangerous people who will stop at nothing to ruin my life if they find me so I'm going to ask I get deadnamed and misgendered #in front of them #i'm going to lie that it's a joke so I can live my life in relative peace.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

#not a shitpost #serious post #ask to tag #tw trauma #cptsd #c-ptsd #and if so we should TALK about it #because it means there are a whole group of survivors out there whose mental health regularly worsens during holidays #like i know i am most certainly not the only person who feels an undefined Dread hanging over christmas/my birthday/july 4 etc #bc too many shitty things happened during those times and now my brain is hypervigilant bc traditionally these are the Danger Times #and this seems like it would be particularly common for survivors of abusive/dysfunctional households (aka most people with c-ptsd) #because holidays/vacations typically mean 1) the whole family is together/being forced to interact #2) and undergoing external stressors e.g. travel/relatives aka 'outsiders' visiting/routines & coping mechanisms being interrupted etc #3) there is social pressure for this to be a Fun Family Bonding Experience which only highlights the cracks in the foundation #and exposes the common Everything Is Fine/We Are A Happy Family lie #4) the cognitive dissonance of feeling tired/anxious/stressed/afraid during a time when you are 'supposed' to be Making Good Memories #and then everyone is angry/tired/anxious/triggered and things boil over and something or someone goes Very Wrong #weird that i'm posting this in october when halloween is...sort of the ONLY holiday i have only good and happy feelings towards #i got lucky there #also i have positive feelings towards Labor Day but that's for socialist reasons

[aunmenosheteroenespanol]

2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered

Tommy's family arc

#911 #911edit #911 abc #911 show #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #evan 'buck' buckley #kinley #bucktommy #kinkley #tevan #pick a ship name you guys and thanks for picking tevan the most correct name #anyway analysis time! #looking back with Modern Knowledge tm about why tommy acts the way he does in the past... babygirl you were so closeted I'm so proud #babygirl was back there getting into narnia #he was so resistant to letting go of the pseudo-family he'd found at the 118 in chimney begins #even tho it was a good old boys club that he knew he really didn't fit into he was making himself fit because at least it was something #but then he let chimney in and then hen came around and he saw a very queer person being openly queer and not giving a fuck what they think #and I think his behavior in that episode was trying to support hen as much as he could without outing himself #because like. how do you give up years of relative safety with people who do care about you they just won't like you anymore if you're *you #then he meets buck in s7 which is like 10-20 years later timeline is fake and he's like oh. this is what unconditional family is #and he's like oh. maybe I can come back. maybe I can be part of this again somehow. maybe we've both grown enough #or at the very least he'll be close to something he never believed would really happen for him #rant over tevan my beloved tim minear pillow cold both sides god bless #my edits

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

#polls #incognito polls #anonymous #tumblr polls #questions #tumblr users #siblings #family #relatives #polls about people

[femmeconomics]

i think it’s important everyone knows about the little roman girl who died at only five years and seven months old, and her grave reads "dum vixi, lusi" or "while i lived, i played"

#her epitaph actually has a much longer poem which contains this line #and it’s not like. stylistically high quality poetry either #which indicates this was not a poem someone was hired to write for the grave (as was a relatively common practice) #but instead written out of love by one of her family members #it’s twenty three lines of mostly correct dactylic hexameter #and it makes me bawl when i read it #we translated it in a latin class i took a few years ago and then wrote our own latin poems about our friends

[laxxarian]

They were in the basement with Jack Fenton having a grave announcement.

It was about the family going to Gotham cuz Jack, as much as he hates it, has to go to a gala since his cousin invited him and his family. He was also threatened that if he were to decline, his cousin would burst through the Fenton Works and live there for three days so Jack decided that it's better to go to the gala and deal with his cousin for one night rather than three.

Who's the cousin you may ask? Bruce Wayne.

#batman #danny phantom #dpxdc #crossover #jazz fenton #justice league #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #batfam #jack having heroes and villains as his relatives but never knew that they were are always a cool headcanon to me #maddie not knowing about the history of his relatives #jack not wanting to do anything with his relatives other than his good friend Vlad #jack can casually and actively make friends with villains #maddie who can fight anyone and is a bit insane can and will actively protect her family

[forgerfamilyantics]

(unofficial) mottos for the desmond family:

donovan- "people will never understand each other"

melinda- "i love/hate my son"

demetrius- "i dont get people but whats the use"

damian-

"i love hate her"

#gotta love his shoujo filter #anya's right when she says “all of sy-on boy's relatives are weirdos” #sxf #spy x family #sxf spoilers #spy x family spoilers #spy x family manga #sxf manga #anya forger #damian desmond #demetrius desmond #melinda desmond #donovan desmond #forger family commentary

[tangledinink]

aw poor swannie :( he must be so confused

For the most part, Swannie is feeling more... numb and tired than confused. There are certainly moments when he's disorientated or doesn't understand what's going on, but he can't really bring himself to care that deeply.

But he does still have his moments. There are occasional bursts of energy from him--

Or, on the other hand, rare moments when he will suddenly go very quiet, very still, very stiff--

The rest of the family quietly thinks of these as "my brother is being fucking possessed by a twelve-year-old child," moments. They may be far from the Lake, but Donatello and Odette's souls are still entwined, and so every now and again, her influence will still rear its head. And yes, in those moments, Swannie is always very confused and very scared.

#on the rare occasion odette kind of takes the forefront donnie usually #panics #because suddenly he has no fucking idea where he is #or who these people are #or whats happening #which usually leads to him either having an immediate breakdown (crying/screaming/trying to get away) #like w leo above #or just fucking. shutting down. like w raph #the family does their best to navigate it #to either back off and give him space or provide him with comfort when hes able to accept it and if it helps #etc etc etc #and wait for the episode to pass #luckily theyre relatively rare #swanatello #asks #anon #donniesona #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt disaster twins #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rise donnie #rise donatello #rise disaster twins

[the-ace-with-spades]

(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)

When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.

He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."

There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.

The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.

The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.

Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.

The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.

Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.

Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.

Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.

He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.

Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."

"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."

Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.

Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.

Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.

The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.

Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.

Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.

But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.

He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.

"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"

Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.

"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."

"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."

"Sweetheart—"

"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."

Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.

The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.

Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.

Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.

Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.

They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.

For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.

They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.

Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.

Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.

Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

#this isn't really about Ice's death or Mav's death #but more about getting old in a family #sorry in advance #dunno if this made sense #idk felt some way when i wrote it #my nan had a stroke around that time and as a person who works mainly with critical stroke patients it hit hard #i didn't get into detail here but stroke patient at the end of their lives are very emotional sight for relatives #icemav #hangster #angst #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #tgm #charlie writes #op

[lannasroleplaymemes]

My Muse has been disrespected by another person. How does your Muse react?

#rel: friends #rel: family #rel: couple #emo: drama #emo: anger #con: fight #type: inbox

[puppyeared]

Why are ppl scared to call it what it is and say we’re still going thru covid on top of seasonal illness. Like. That’s pretty important right. I was watching the news and they were like oh yeah we have an unprecedented number of flu cases “as well as other sicknesses” without actually saying Covid. No announcement abt vaccinations or masking or anything. Also if I hear someone joking abt “war flashbacks” for mentioning covid I fucking hate u

#source: most of my family members are nurses and it was so bad for one of them they had to be put on a ventilator. in the hospital they #worked at. looking back I think I had a reason to feel a little offput by the shows of support early pandemic #with people tying blue ribbons around trees and lighting signs blue to support healthcare workers #I get that it was supposed to be moral support when we couldn’t do anything but follow health advisories #and it did matter to make them feel uplifted and do something than nothing. im not gonna deny that #but. you can still help now. u know that right. you still have a responsibility here #u can still mask up. u can still get vaxxed and call in sick to avoid infecting others #don’t leave it on healthcare workers to pick up the pieces just because they were doing it before. do u think they had a choice? #nobody likes picking up the slack for someone else and now that we have more tools to do smth couldn’t we just. do it???? #im not a virologist but i also feel like continuing to let it get worse by letting more mutations develop #could continue to set us back since this virus is pretty good at fucking us up long term and finding new ways to do that #while there are ppl still researching covid which is STILL A RELATIVELY NEW VIRUS. and studying possible treatment and cures #yapping #vent

[iseetheisland]

For $1, I'll comment "ew" on a photo of your ex.

But for $10 I'll comment "ew" on a photo of you and claim in a fake dm convo that your ex was the one who paid me to do it. Which will make them seem absolutely pathetic, lonely, and desperate. You'll ruin all their street rep and they will look a total fool. But it's actually you who's the patheti--

Uh. Yeah. Hire me :)

#really real business that i am starting #for $20 i'll misgender your transphobic relatives at family dinners #you gotta let me eat tho like if ill get kicked out pack me a doggie bag

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

political opinion: fingers should have more joints

#not my only political opinion but. currently. my most FERVENT one #ok 2nd most fervent. actual most fervent is VOTE IN THE FUCKIN MIDTERMS U FUCKER MC FUCKENING FUCKERIST #anyway. ahem. fingers. more joints. self explanatory. #(also mostly unrelated but. when i was in. .. middle school maybe? there was a period of time where i fully believed 'Fervent' referred to #a species or genus or other grouping of mammal which included ferrets #like how Crows are a member of the Corvid family? yeah i thought Ferrets were a member of the Fervents #not my proudest moment yet i find myself oddly and ferociously proud #) #((no wait wait wait wait wait wait. FEREVENTLY proud)) #(((also until relatively recently i thought it was spelled Fervant but we don't need to talk about that)))

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

#favoniuslibrary #˚₊໒🔪꒱kai writes₊˚ #˚₊໒🩹꒱kai's series:JLM.₊˚ #╰┈➤ il dottore #dottore x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #il dottore x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #this is my form of mega copium #uhghghg RGAHGHH #i have so many ideas #make it angst #i wanna take care of dottore too tho :( #i want to give dottore an adult figure that cares about him #protip: if ur sad just think of your fav character as your family relative and it doesn't matter if they're older or younger #:)

[little-pondhead]

Oops.

While learning to control his powers under the guidance of Clockwork, Danny accidentally curses his own bloodline with the Curse of Sentient Food several centuries in the past. Originally, a witch was supposed to curse his family. Oops. Well, the Fentons were always adapting, and technically, either way, he'd end up battling dino nuggets at three am in his underwear, no matter who the curse came from. So he shrugged and continued on.

Unfortunately, this also means that out of nowhere, the timeline shifted, and some of his very distant relatives are now battling their food into submission at every meal because Danny is ultimately way more powerful than some mortal witch from the 1600s. His version of the curse reached literally everyone he could ever be related to for the last few centuries. Even if they were adopted into the family!

So, returning to the present time after training, Danny is a little startled to see some news clips of people's dinners coming to life and beginning revolutions. Wow, John Fentonightingale really got around, didn't he? He felt a little uncomfortable that now all these random people had to deal with their share of Fenton luck, but from some of the interviews, everyone seemed to be handling it pretty well!

Especially his so-distant-they're-on-another-tree cousins, the Kents, who contacted his family directly, asking how best to prepare a zombie turkey. Their son was coming for Thanksgiving with his new wife and some coworkers, and they just refused to make the guests fight for their lives on a holiday!

They invited the Fentons to join them, of course.

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #sometimes i wonder where the fuck this stuff comes from #which snail is responsible for this #but if it wasn't clear danny curses his bloodline and fucks it up because of course he does #so literally every single relative he's ever had is now suffering directly from fenton luck and sentient food fights #ma and pa kent are the only ones who reach out for advice #how did they figure out the fentons were the source? like they'd tell you those are family secrets you nosey bitch #so now the fentons are invited to spend the holidays with their distant cousins in Kansas #and meet their adopted son clark! who was just married! :D #side note the timeline changed right as the cake was cut at clark's reception so that was interesting #they had to pay for so much dry cleaning #clark's coworkers (fellow jl members) are a little worried about the sentient food but so far it's not really a big issue? #they can definitely take time off for the holidays to relax! #and they totally won't get dragged on any interdimensional adventures with a dead teenage godling as their guide! #feel free to continue #idk how many kids bruce has when clark marries lois but feel free to just throw some in #like JL members and their kids #just toss them in and watch the kids go feral #fighting your food is enrichment <3