#grief is a funny thing
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Hi everyone,
I know it's been ages and some of you have probably seen this notification and have hoped that this means the fics on this page will be updating, however, I've got some bad news.
This blog was a joint account between two friends who loved creating silly stories of some of our favourite characters in our free time and gushing over character details with one another. Beyond tragically, my friend, the co-runner of this account, passed away a few months ago. Obviously, I'm keeping the details private, but it was sudden and unexpected.
I know this is a shock to all of you, and not what you were expecting to hear after such a long hiatus. Understandably, I've not been active on tumblr, particularly this account, since. It's felt incredibly wrong to login to this blog and even attempt to re-read some of the stuff posted or your comments/tags, especially without her to talk to about all your lovely messages. She really did love reading them, and we'd call for hours to laugh and talk about your kind messages.
Although I acted as what you'd call the 'face' of this account, actually posting, reblogging, commenting and following others, she was integral to the heart of this account, to the ideas and writing and editing that made this account what it is, and I don't want to continue posting heacannons/one-shots/any kind of creative writing on this blog without her. This was our passion-project, and a massive chunk of it is now missing.
I just wanted to let you guys know what the situation with this blog is and why, and I wanted to give a massive thank you from both of us for being the most supportive, kind-hearted, and tight-knit community we'd ever had or seen on Tumblr before. The fact we even had fan-art made of our writing goes to show how dedicated and incredibly talented this fandom is, how supportive and just genuinely excited everyone is to hype each other up and lift each other and appreciate all our passions. It's genuinely insane, and so rare in modern internet spaces.
Regarding the future of this account, because I don't want to leave unfinished fics floating around the website, and for personal reasons, I will be transferring all fics/one-shots over to AO3, marking them as incomplete, and 'orphaning' them. I've really debated this decision, and I believe it's the one she'd be most happy with. I'm just giving you guys fair warning, I'll wait a few weeks before I actually do anything. I don't know if I'll delete this blog, I'm rather attached, but I won't be active for a while.
Probably most importantly, if anyone wants to take our ideas or our unfinished fics/one-shots and complete them/edit the story/adapt our head-cannons/incorporate them into your own fics, please do. I think it'd be nice to inspire and help other fic writers, and see the ideas carried on in whatever way you guys choose. Everything on this account is effectively 'orphaned' already, so feel free to do whatever you want with it :).
This is getting long, but I also wanted to say thank you to everyone who sent in requests, funny comments, little anecdotes, and witty one-liners into our messages/asks, both that we did and didn't respond to, especially lately. We planned to do a great return to this blog after our exams responding to them all/clogging up your feeds. Someone even called us their 'favourite niche internet micro celebrity', and we both found it hilarious.
There's no gofundme or anything like that set up. Sometimes, things just don't go as we plan and there's nothing we can do. If I've learnt anything from this godawful situation, it's that you should do whatever you want as soon as possible. Don't wait to join that club. don't wait to take that trip, don't wait to watch that show, don't wait to visit friends or family, don't wait to begin doing a hobby that you think you'll love. Anything can happen, and the only time we know that we have for certain is now. (Master Uguay was right in Kung Fu Panda after all).
I won't be active for a while, but I'll check in to see how this post is doing now and again, and I'll probably post again just before I begin taking things down.
Thank you guys, and I hope you don't dwell on this post too long.
#yep#still don't know how to end this#thank you all again#for anyone who wants to know im doing fine thank you#grief is a funny thing#but things get easier#and people keep living
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there it is... again, that funny feeling...
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grief is so weird because it's been four years and i'm still waiting for you to come home. i'm trying to remember the sound of your voice reading to me, the comfort of your embrace. i'm still waiting for you to come home. i tear up at the mere thought of finding a sweater at the back of your mostly-empty closet that might still smell like you. i'm still waiting for you to come home. i remember a world where i thought i would never have to live without you. you raised me, and so i'm still waiting for you to come home. when are you coming home? you've been gone an awfully long time and the house feels so much emptier without you. come back. i miss you.
#q's corner#sorry for not posting for over 20 days and then coming back with sad shit#ive just been thinking about this#grief is a funny thing#anyway yeah#grief
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Like you wish you never met someone
Or you have never met someone
I assume your referring to this post
It's about a young boy who tragically lost his life in a road accident down my street. Most days I pass by the memorial that has taken up the space. A simple black iron fence now covered in colorful blooms of different kinds, his picture and trinkets from his time alive.
I never knew this boy, and probably never would had he survived, but I feel the echo of grief non the less and so I pay my deepest respects. May he have a peaceful rest.
#27paperlilies#asks#ask response#Grief is a funny thing#If spreads.#poetry#writeblr#poetry blog#poetrycommunity#writing#writing on tumblr#writingcommunity#creative writing#writers
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what people don’t talk about grief is the jealousy that comes when you see your peers having both parents at their graduation while you only have one standing beside you
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Finding yourself at a point where you are grieving the parts of you that are now gone-you are languishing in the shell that contains your essence, its betrayal fresh.
A pile of attached pieces, far more worn down than to be expected, fumbling to pull itself together in the moments that matter the most. Struggle is a secret you keep since your mental battle is so mind-numbingly complex to unearth and stay in the lead. They say mind over matter, but what if matter is so overwhelmingly dense and your mind just is grasping at the will to care. A pile of pieces is rumbling.
Born under stubborn stars, your spirit isn’t fragile and its fire is fed with righteous fury. But darkness envelops you and it’s hard to find the strength to keep moving, keep feeding that fire, keep its glow-alive. Alive is a place that you want to be, fighting your body, medicating the pain away, to be with the people you would give the world to if you could.
So here is where you stand, a pile of rattling pieces struggling to stay connected, unsteady but full of flame and ready to take on whatever life throws at you.
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i think about my ex sometimes. we still have each other on instagram. i loved them so immensely without really realizing it. we weren't even in a "real" relationship. we've known each other for over a fourth of our lives. i cried for hours after they dumped me over text after three year long relationship and a longer friendship. they made me explain a fucking tweet i made after they dumped me, a tweet where i replied to a friend's qrt so the op never would've seen it unless they looked, and they made me explain it bc the op had been nice to them while they were getting hate for a post, bc the op had gotten antiblack hate for a similar take, and i had to tell them i had no idea about any of that, and to remind them that I can disagree with black people and think their opinions are stupid without being antiblack, because i'm black, and i view other black people as normal human beings and not infallible pedestles of victimhood. everyone involved in that interaction was black except them. it's the worst breakup ive ever had in my life. they text me at work to know if i had time to talk and when i asked about what, they told me they wanted to break up with me later, so i had to just go through my fucking work day handling clients like that. i miss them like a fucking limb, and if they tried to talk to me again i would probably scream at them so loudly i'd rupture their eardrum and shred my vocal cords. i still text our friends to see if they're okay. i hope they don't do the same, because i don't want them to know anything about me right now. we never even met in real life. i still want to, sometimes, or at least the part of me that's still seventeen does.
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nobody talks about how hard it is to mourn someone you weren't super close with. it's been six months and im crying over her on a random sunday night but i can help but feel guilty for grieving bc i know her sister and dad and close friends have had a much harder time than i have with her death. it just feels like i don't deserve to grieve
#i want to cry and miss her#but i feel like i shouldn't#i feel like i didn't spend enough time with her or know her well enough to miss her like this#grief is a funny thing
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#today marks 10 years since we lost my little brother and I'm so angry at myself#because i feel fine#spending it at home alone like every year since because it never mattered how i grieved#but I'm fine ? got out of bed. walked the dogs. sat down to work#like yeah i feel sad but it's not debilitating and it should be because 10 years is a lot of growing a little boy should get to do#and it'll hit me on one completely insignificant day#grief is a funny thing#grief
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I had a termination for medical reasons in August 2006.
The grief never goes away, you just learn to live with it.
and sometimes it hits you like a fucking train and the best thing to do is to just let it happen.
"Growing Around Grief"
Lois Tonkin, 1996
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cleaning out my room only to find the letter i wrote to someone who i can no longer send it to (its been over three years, its weird.)
#grief is a funny thing#she hasnt been at the forefront of my mind in sometime#but sometimes memories linger in the background#its funny when someone you grew up with is no longer there#even if its been so long sometimes i think maybe i should go past her house. only to remember she wont actually be there#i should call my cousins
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one year - a short reflection
this piece is nothing special.
the claddagh ring faces up. i used to wear it up when we were together. i am supposed to give love to myself now, but that is too difficult.
a friend pointed out how much i talk about you, and it’s true.
oh, he bought this for me.
he’d like that art.
i should send that to him.
he likes those clothes.
that reminds me of this one time together.
i know that feeling.
i know. i understand.
i know.
i hate that it’s true, but it feels like you have become just another part of me.
i am obssessed with the idea of seeing that part of you again, the part that made you what i loved. i am obsessed with the idea of you coming back, leaving those horrible people, and allowing everything to shift into its old way of living. i am obsessed with the idea of being able to do everything we once wanted together, with the same person i fell in love with.
these thoughts consume me daily. they have never ceased, never faded, but i have learned to live with them peacefully as i have with my sadness. they come and go throughout the day, and i listen, and i move on.
deep down i don’t think i will move on. it has been a year, and i feel that nothing has changed.
although i feel that way, i know have changed. the boy i am has always been much too mature for his age, but now, i allow the little girl in my heart out to cry. she sobs and grieves for the life she never got, and i allow her, and i help her.
she never wore the pink raincoat until last thursday. i told you she did, but i lied. i told you she loved it, she promises, and that was the truth. she wore it last thursday, and they both touched the little pink bears and smiled, telling her it’s cute. the girl in me cried that day. you knew who i was before i did.
last thursday, if i was alone, i would have been sobbing. my love held my hand for hours as we talked, quieted, and fell asleep. i feel that a part of my heart, the very heart that has been slowly shattering, was bandaged that day.
every day, my dear reminds me that he loves me, loves everything i have to say, loves being around me, could talk to me forever. it was a change i didn’t expect to happen so suddenly, but a welcome one nonetheless.
if it wasn’t for my loves, i would not have learned how incredible affection can be. one held my hand while the other listened, and in that time, i have still cried less tears than the amount of love i believe i am incapable of sharing.
the above is not romantic. i do not know if it will ever be. i do not know if i want it to be. i do not know if it should be. i have never felt a love so pure, so sweet, yet still platonic.
i believe you were the first to show me that same love, and i will never regret you being the first. but i watched you fade away over four months, and i am terrified of that happening again, for it is one thing to have life stripped away in an instant, but another to grieve a life still walking.
the last month has been hard; i have been exhausted. i am restless, i am tired, i am at peace, and i am terrified. there is not a day that goes by where i do not think about what i have lost: a whole life that once stood behind me.
i have always struggled with grief, but this has enveloped me more than any other feeling. in a strange way, it is a part of my personality and who i am. i am terrified of silence and i cannot sleep sound, yet i still wear these fond memories on my wrists every day. i do believe i am depressed, i am grieving, but i am at peace with how i feel. i do not fight it.
the only thing that has changed in a year is that i am accepting who i am.
i am at peace with my sadness.
i allow it to consume me.
i move on afterwards.
let the cycle repeat.
i still wonder how you knew who i was before i knew. i wear these clothes and bracelets proudly, when i used to be nervous to be myself.
i still wonder where that boy went. he is in my dreams, but perhaps he was only a dream the last three years.
#songs linked: promise; one way mirror; euthanasia; temporary nothing#i think this is something i just want to share with you and the world#grief is a funny thing#and i have so much more i didn’t share#but i don’t feel i am alone in this feeling#love#lovecore#breakup#breakup vent#vent#platonic love#lgbt#lgbtq#lgbtqia#trans#transgender#reflection#grief#grief journal#grief art#vent art#poetry#poem#vent poem#writing#short story#story#original story#original art#digital art
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With the way my mind grieves, or really doesn’t, I find myself,,, forgetting who it is that I’ve lost. I know them, I know I knew them, I know it hurts, I know it’s supposed to hurt. I remember them, I have the memories, i have them somewhere, like a misplace piece of homework at the bottom of my freshen year backpack. I had it, I had them now it gone. I worry that one day I’ll be a memory in just the same way, lost and forgot, maybe remembered for the minute, as finger traces the curve of my cheek in a smiling photo years from now. But in the blink of an eye I’m gone again, I know that no one will save my obituary, I doubt anyone will write one for me, a doubt that creeps in on the worst nights. My grandfather, nothing more than a figment, his laughter and memory shakily like a school wifi connection, was full of lies and promotions for my aunts, I would rather be forgotten than remembered for lies. I wish I could grieve the way they did in stories, I wish I was lost to tears, to wails, but I’m just silent. Silent and forgetful, there’s no reminder to dig for those memories in the bottom of the bag, there’s no teacher asking for it, now weeks-months-years now- late, with promise of some credit. I just now sit, silent and trace the curve of his laughing cheek in a photo he hated.
#grief is a funny thing#death#grieving#my grandfather was an English professor#so words are how I celebrate him
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a flood of miracles wouldn't be enough because you called my name
#professor layton#professor layton and the unwound future#hershel layton#don paolo#dimitri allen#claire foley#<- seemingly? is it her actual surname i see ppl keep calling her that but idk what the official source is#fanart#so umm. tuf/tlf is a hilarious game. so many things about it that i think are funny and they also make me go crazy insane unfortunately#its overarching theme of grief really got to me... even if i find this particular love triangle (square) plot point side splittingly funny#i wanted this piece to feel tender despite/along with the humor & ridiculousness of it. kicks dust shyly. hope you enjoy and whatnot
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Ghosts are Dragons.
But.
Instead of being protective or caring for one another or caring about child ghosts.
They actively view each other as threats.
Like:
"Oh, nothing personal but you gotta die now."
"Oh yea I totally get that but you also have to die now."
"Understandable."
Inspired by this glorious fic.
Dragons don't really hate each other, they just have to kill each other on sight no biggie. Even more when they feel like their hoard is in danger or a dragon is getting too close to said hoard.
So.
Danny and Vlad.
Phantom and Plasmius.
I would like to say that they're seen as really weird entities by the ghost community. On one they manage to act civil with each other (I.E not trying to tear each other's cores out or something) and then on the other they're literally how dragons would expect them to be (Phantom and Plasmius).
Of course, a ghost's act of civility is not the same as a human's, so they're just viewed as... really fucking weird. In human form their instincts are kinda on the back burner but still there so they're somewhat antagonistic with each other.
In ghost form?
Bloody brawl.
Even worse if you try and fit into the idea of the Fenton family being apart of both their hoards. Most common link being Maddie but if you wanna get kinda cracky with it could be Jack too for a Vlad/Jack angle.
On one hand, Vlad wants Danny to be his kid. On the other it's like "Okay no hard feelings but you really need to die now."
Then imagine if this was a Nasty Burger explosion au and Danny falls into Vlad's custody. It's like, okay, cool, Vlad got what he wanted but wow does his dragon side want this kid dead and damn he has really good self-control and somewhat morals to not try and strike a grieving child.
Danny, on the other hand, is very, very sad and his dragon side also, very much, wants Vlad dead.
They get into some fights. Well. A lot of fights. Nothing big.
By dragon standards anyway.
Look! Two dragons! In one house! And they haven't torn out each other's cores and disabled on another! It's a miracle!!!
(Sidenote, I feel like Danielle wouldn't really be around in this au because, you know. Dragons kinda want each other dead and all that.)
So yea, in the eyes of ghosts those guys Phantom and Plasmius are really, very weird dragons. And so, extremely but confusingly civil.
In the eyes of humans, however... well.... kinda... paints a bad picture.
To one Bruce Wayne especially when they meet each other at a gala.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#You know I just thought of something funny#What if#Experiencing the grief of losing a hoard#Both of them become each OTHER's hoard?#Never before seen thing with dragons that#And now they have to navigate the instinct to protect a hoard and eliminate a rival dragon#Does this spell kinda disaster for anyone trying to pull apart#Yea#It does
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