#people are allowed to grieve differently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

void-tiger · 2 years

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Warning: Sandman Spoilers.

(I’d plop a Read More here except I can never remember how to do that in mobile, mobile is much friendlier in layout to how my brain functions than the full web-on-computer will ever be, and Readmores flatout break my ability to edit, say, tags after I hit that Post button.)

Right. Okay.

…I think what irritates me about the Endless Siblings?

Delirium Can Do No Wrong Because She Baby (which is true. We dunno what shit happened to her that forced her to shift from Delight to Delirium, but we know it was BAD) even when she torments mortals for her Games (just less maliciously than Desire and Despair; it’s debatable if she’s fully Aware of the consequence of what she’s doing), even when Delirium’s (understandable!) demand to have Destruction back actively kills people!

Or Destruction—who LEFT and almost demands the others to leave as well despite Not All Of Them CAN Leave (and to be frank? Him abandoning his post despite having Creation as his counter-domain is probably why, say, warfare became SO destructive SO rapidly followed by a technological boom)—and literally planted what might as well have been BOMBS in his closest friends if any of his siblings tried to find him.

Or Desire—who fucks around and NEVER has to find out. Who actively targets Dream and blames Dream for their bad relationship with their older brother…and never takes any accountability for their own part in it and continued active antagonism and actively trying to DESTROY Dream either by spilling family blood and igniting the Kindly Ones’ Wrath and using Dream’s Own Function against him…or by risking Dream shifting into something Not Dream Any Longer. (And the absolute Irony of Desire being the one (1) sibling to EVER help, then gets pissed off and antagonizes further. Gee, Desire. I wonder why Dream doesn’t ask and if he asks you he asks you last!)

Or Despair. Who plays games beyond her function, and this aspect of Despair seemingly ignoring her counter-function of Hope, and is a co-conspirator albeit passive co-conspirator in Desire’s torment of Dream in much the same way as a pair of school-aged Mean Girls

Or Destiny. Who so rarely shows that he cares, uses his Book as a Defense Mechanism Excuse in a similar way as Dream does his Pride (and being prickly by-nature but most of his standoffish-ness is honestly a defense against Holding ALL Of Subconscious + His Family’s A Bunch Of Assholes (Too)). And if he does anything “outside his Book” or “finally acts within the Book” …he denies it’s because he cares. It’s to berate for showing up in jeans or someone else leaving their stuff in his room (even when someone else left it)

Or Death. Who had her own Edgelord Phase that lasted for eons before her younger siblings even existed. Who never once actually came to help yet berates Dream for not asking her when he wound up in Serious Trouble…again. (And not by his own fault, unless you want to count fixing a past mistake seriously draining him to the point he could he snared by Desire’s (and Despair’s but mostly Desire’s) Trap.)

…They’re ALL Assholes, Jared!

But only ONE of them is held to a standard none of the rest of them even bother to live to and gets actively punished for it at every turn, even when he tries to reach out, do better. (And yes, Morpheus!Dream has some serious fuckups. But. So do the rest of them. And he’s kinda the only one held accountable for them + some things that really aren’t his fault or are actively traumatic and he doesn’t really have a way to safely recover from without, y’know, affecting the Dreaming and all the dreamers! And it’s not for a lack of trying or continuing to try, despite his natural stubbornness, prickliness, introversion, and avoidance!)

#sandman spoilers #endless siblings #tiger’s roar #…possibly morpheus!dream apologica but fuck it #I was reflecting on WHY I’m so defensive of Dream and. well.#it’s kinda because of how my own family and school environment treated me #for being ‘an angry child’ or ‘back talking’ when. it was always defensive. I never started it. ever.#and. like Dream. what made the difference? people Actively Showing that they loved me and cared #that despite ‘not handling things as well as I should’ I still didn’t deserve THAT #and learning that having Bad Days with my mental health where everything ‘sets me off’ doesn’t make me a bad person #as long as I didn’t. y’know. take it out on anyone #I may be responsible for my own self #but others are responsible for not deliberately trying to hurt me or my trust or my boundaries #I Am Not Responsible for them choosing to hurt or disregard me!#…honestly I wish I could just take morpheus!dream #give him a hug (if he’d allow it). reassure him that being grouchy or depressed etc isn’t a bad thing. it just Is #let him Finally grieve and cry and rage in a place that WON’T flood or raze or affect everyone’s dreams #encourage him that it’s okay to grow and do better #(and fuck anyone who takes advantage of that and his sensitivity)#just. the guy needs therapy!! allowed to feel things without Instant Subconcious And Literal Consoquences!!#think there’s a term in family therapy for Dream: diagnosed problem.#(if I’m remembering Jono’s Terms in CinemaTherapy/MendedLight correctly)#and well. Even When! the Diagnosed Problem is ‘doing better’ things are STILL Fucked Up #because guess what! they weren’t the (only) problem at all!!#and well. him feeling things So Deeply and He DOES Care Actually (but clamping things down into a ‘resting bitch face’)?#WHAT A FUCKING MOOD.

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plegdoctor · 2 years

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I thought this would’ve gone without saying but please don’t harass people for not making a statement after their friend has passed

#i just #people grieve differently and a lot of people grieve privately #please allow them to do that without being scrutinised #be kind

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carbonateddelusion · 1 year

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benny and I disagree on like. one thing. and it's the fact that I strongly dislike Amethyst from SU as a person

as a character, I think she's pretty good! I think she's well-rounded; I understand why people like and project onto her. Her character progression felt natural and realistic.

that being said I relate to Steeb for several reasons and I Dislike Amethyst.

#rox rumblings #me things #maybe delete later? idk #steven universe #just tagging it for blocking reasons #this isn't smth i wanna start a fight over. esp bc i know that she's liked by a lot of fans of the show #steven universe cw #it's different circumstances (obviously i am not magical and being raised by my mom's magical rebellion group and i am not my mom)#but if someone pulled That Shit to me and my dad/sibling/whatever i would cut them out of my life immediately. no takebacks. none.#there is nothing you can do to come back from that. at all. you are no longer allowed to be around me or the people i care about #and if i couldn't get them away for whatever reason i'd loathe everu day of their existence until i can leave them behind #my opinion of it has not changed at all since i first saw that episode #idc if it's an 'extreme' reaction or that people do fucked up things when they're grieving i Am Going To Commit Murder #the only person who i'd consider forgiving for doing that would be ben. but ben would never do that to me

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kiindr · 1 year

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friendly reminders:

you don't have to be productive every day

you are worthy even if all you did today was get out of bed

there are people out there who care about you

your existence makes a difference

if something bothers you, then it bothers you. no one has the right to tell you otherwise

you are allowed to take up space

there is no 'right way' to grieve

you cannot put a time limit on emotions

your likes and interests are valid and they matter

it's okay to take your time in doing things. not everyone can do everything at the same pace

#mental health #reminders #mental health awareness #mental health support #mental health issues #mental health reminders #mental health problems #therapy #coping #coping mechanisms #mental ill health #mental illness #wellbeing #wellness #motivation #productivity #optimism #positivity

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boyruggeroii · 1 year

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#also. so many people don't connect and still have #idk. lots of friends and the kind of experiences most people have ecc. so the two things aren't related #while I did mix them a bit in the tags? maybe?#so really why's everyone so sad about it #have you even observed people from the outside? it's great! it's so fun #nothing about them makes sense but gods it's like #can't say it because it'll sound demeaning but it's not #I like people a lot actually #'I'm separate from the world' by god you're in it! go look at something bigger than you #stand on a cliff #think about history #personal #I'm procrastinating in case you can't tell #it's just #yeah you can't connect. but you're not a monster for it. you just exist in a different way #you're allowed to grieve about what you could have had and to be angry at the position in which this places you #but it seems that that's all people do. while it's far from all there's to it

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owliellder · 8 months

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The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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diana-bookfairchild · 5 months

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No, but the Hunger Games did need the romance plotline. See, Snow got it all wrong for the cause of the districts' rebellion. He thought an act of love is entirely separate and different from an act of rebellion, that the two are mutually exclusive. But we saw even in Katniss' though process that the two are mixed. And for the districts, the two are the same thing. For seventy-four years they've been forced to watch their children, grandchildren, siblings, niblings, friends die in the Games or through exploitation, are told it's an honour for them to die for the Capitol and are not allowed to grieve. And then suddenly this girl comes up and plants her feet and says 'no'. She survives through illegal hunting, avoiding the miserable death via starvation or the terrible community home. She doesn't stand by to watch her sister die, she volunteers. She doesn't treat her friend's death as one of a tribute to the Capitol, but as the horrible killing of an innocent little girl who deserves to be memorialized. She thanks and humanizes another district's people. She gives another tribute a merciful death. She refuses to give up on the man she loves, repeatedly. Defying all sense and establishment.

That is rebellion, for the Districts. Love, loyalty, grief, kindness, mercy - they're all rebellious sentiments.

And romantic love is an integral part of that. Not the be all end all, but an intrinsic part. We see sisterhood with Prim, we see friendship with Rue and Finnick and Johanna (and Gale and Madge a little bit), we see mentorship and connection with Haymitch and Boggs, so of course we need the romantic angle with Peeta. Of course we need the dandelion that grows after the war, the dandelion that started it all through one act of kindness to the starving girl he loves.

#the hunger games #rebellion #katniss everdeen #everlark #romance #the romance was NOT pointless #or irrelevant to the plot #though it is definitely not the thing to be most focused on #it is definitely part of the message and themes #thg #thg series #platonic relationships #romantic relationships

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loveyourlovelysoul · 2 years

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Accept that you still feel upset about how you were treated, and allow that feeling to pass through you. You don't have to pretend it's not there. You don't have to pretend to forgive the other person if you don't feel so. You can still feel hurt even if years have passed. It's valid, especially if you swept your feelings under the rug back in the days. Find your way to accept the pain, grieve, and let it be in the past where it belongs. Free yourself from these chains. From your fears. From what has been. Life changes. It brings you lessons, but also rewards (and often both are in the form of very different people). Be open to the latter now.

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unbidden-yidden · 6 months

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I have gotten so many messages from folks who see what's happening to Jews right now, how literally any statement from us that isn't straight up "death to Israel!" "tear it down!" "river to the sea!" etc. - no matter how tempered in other ways or critical of the Israeli government it is - anything even mildly supportive of the terrorism victims/their families in their grief and/or Israelis deserving to live is getting dog piled to an absurd degree. And yes, that primarily targets Jews (because we're the ones primarily speaking on it) but it definitely is also hitting anyone not Jewish who says this as well. Immediately, overnight, the left has made any position that respects everyone's human rights and allows Jews room to grieve our murdered and missing family and friends without telling us they deserved to die in terrible ways completely radioactive. Like literally even the most milquetoaste statement attracts numerous hysterical commentators. And because it's so toxic, people are afraid to speak up.

And I've now heard from a lot of gentiles that they had no idea how deep the rot of leftist antisemitism went, how they've been seeing this unfold with horror, and are afraid to speak up.

Here's what I'll say: those messages give me a lot of strength, because they help me remember that I'm not insane, that this is horrendous, and we are seeing in real time exactly who would have helped the Gestapo find us if they were sufficiently convinced that this is "decolonization." That yes, the backlash really *is* that bad. I hear that affirmation and I appreciate it, and I understand your fear, because it was mine too. I myself strongly considered at the beginning not saying anything about this until I could do so without being harassed. (I decided against that because I am physically incapable of shutting up when it pertains to my people, but I understand the sentiment.)

Here's the thing: this is never going to end - those people who take seriously the question "are Jews people?" are going to be the vocal minority unless and until we all speak out. Jews are 2% of the US population and 0.2% of the world's population - there are literally more self-identified Nazis in America than there are Jews. I would honestly be surprised if there weren't more horseshoe theory leftists in the world than Jews also.

That being the case, we really do need our allies to speak up with us. I think if we all spoke up at once, it might be enough to break the silence-taken-as-agreement and shame everyone but the avowed antisemites (rather than the thoughtless and opportunistic ones) back into keeping their antisemitism under wraps. Which does have the effect of bringing the mob under control. Jews have faced a ton of mob violence in the form of pogroms throughout our history and backlash to Jewish victimhood. (Tl;dr - "How dare you make me consider how I might have benefited from or been complicit in hurting Jews? This is actually the fault of the Jews." is a disturbingly common thought process.) (You may also be wondering what I mean by "opportunistic;" I can explain in another post if people are interested.)

I know it's scary. I am well aware that you might lose friends from this. I personally decided that if those "friends" valued Jewish lives so little, they were never my friends to begin with, but it's different for non-Jews. They may genuinely be your friends. I'm not demanding you do this for me or my community, but I am asking you to consider what your line is for your friends. And if you are able to talk to them, to ask them what makes this group different from all other groups in terms of deserving compassion and human rights, it may just help us to quiet the mob.

And, if nothing else, just privately reminding those of us who are speaking about it that we are grounded in reality and compassion helps combat the mass gaslighting going on.

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focaccia-nose · 6 months

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I love how one of my favorite artists just posted that Israel literally faked a terrorist attack and murdered their own civilians, which is just Holocaust denial but in a different font.

One of my favorite creators just posted about how a valid "solution" is for every Israeli to deport themselves and go back to where they came from. We already tried that. We continued to get killed. This whole thing proves that we are not safe anywhere.

I love how white leftists have determined that all of the media/narrative is controlled by Israel (cough sound familiar?) and are refusing to vote.

People I know and love are still regularly posting dog whistles on their Instagram stories.

Former friends still dm me accusing me of being a zionist for allowing room to grieve for all the civilians that were lost.

These tears are not "crocodile tears" or "white tears." Not only are we going through a huge collective trauma and watching genocide occur in real time, but somehow it's every Jewish person's fault for purely existing.

I'm not sleeping. I'm not eating. I'm so angry and so fucking sad and now my forms of escapism aren't safe anymore either.

I don't know how I'm ever going to recover. I have been fundamentally changed while people are posting purely to vertue signal and feel better about themselves. I just hope that I can learn how to trust people again. I hope I can learn how to be soft again.

I refuse to be a "good jew." I'm so proud of who I am and I will never shut up about it ever again.

#i/p #jumblr

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peakyswritings · 7 months

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Lullaby || Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: It’s been almost a year since (Y/n) has started to work as Charlie’s nanny. For the first time, she finds herself in the position of breaking one of her boss’ rules, but his reaction might not be what she was expecting.

Warnings: mentions of death, age-gap (it’s not specified, I imagine (Y/n) to be in her 20s).

A/N: this is a mix of two requests by anonymous. I changed them a little bit to make them fit another thing I was already planning to write. I hope you like it🤍 Also, I couldn’t restrain myself from using Once Upon a December from Anastasia as the lullaby (Y/n) sings.

Word count: 1.4K

MASTERLIST

Dividers credit

“C’mon, Charlie.” (Y/n) whispered with a soft voice, gently rocking the three-year-old. “It’s late, you need to sleep.”

Despite all her efforts, the child seemed to have no intention of going back to sleep. His cries resounded in the silence of the night, desperate, probably caused by a nightmare. It wasn’t the first time he woke up in the middle of the night, and surely it wouldn’t be the last. It was quite a common occurrence, but there was nothing surprising about that. At such a young age, Charlie Shelby had already been through so much pain.

(Y/n) had been Charlie’s nanny for almost a year now. She had moved to Arrow House shortly after the late Mrs Shelby, Charlie’s mother, had died under tragic circumstances. As for her boss, Thomas Shelby, she rarely saw him. He didn’t spend much time at home, and when he did, he locked himself in his study until it was time to go out again. Everyone could see that the man was still grieving, that the guilt of his wife’s death was eating at him day by day. And Grace Shelby was everywhere in that house. In the portraits, in the photographs, in the very air the people who lived there breathed. It was as if her ghost was still lingering inside those walls, restless.

Truth was, some part of (Y/n) was glad she didn’t have to see Mr Shelby too often. His cold eyes gave her chills, and she always felt small under his expectant stare. It felt like he could read right through people. But she couldn’t complain, because despite his exterior harshness and his coolness, he was kind to her. She figured the reason why was that Charlie had become fond of her right away, just like she had become fond of him.

On the other side, Thomas Shelby piqued her curiosity. He was a peculiar man, she had never met someone who even remotely resembled him. She knew who he was, what his family did, and before meeting him she was expecting to find herself in front of someone entirely different. When after putting an ad in the papers she received his secretary’s call, she had considered refusing. But the pay was good, and she needed to get out of her house, to be independent, and the general terms of her contract were to good to be ignored. So she mustered up the courage and attended the interview, and to this day, she could say she made the right decision. Charlie was lovely, the staff was friendly, and she felt relatively safe in a house surrounded by men who protected it night and day.

(Y/n) sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. She had been trying to get Charlie to sleep for over an hour, but nothing seemed to work. She had tried everything: she had cradled him, given him water, she had even taken him to take a breath of fresh air in the garden for a while. It was all useless. There was just one thing she hadn’t tried, she hadn’t dared try, for if her boss found out he would probably fire her for breaking his rules. It was the first thing people would do to help a child fall asleep, and yet it was not allowed at Arrow House. Because Mr Shelby didn’t allow singing. But she was running out of options, and her boss was still out.

Just one song. One lullaby wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She hesitated, sending a look at the door of Charlie’s bedroom, then she quietly started to chant the lullaby her grandmother used to sing to her when she was a child.

“Dancing bears

Painted wings

Things I almost remember

And a song someone sings

Once upon a December”

Tommy closed the front door behind him, exhaling a deep breath. Another long day was over. However, not even the comfort of being home was enough to lift the weight pressing on his shoulders. Not anymore. It was always there, pushing down on him, waiting for him to bend, or to break. But he had to keep on marching, relentlessly, pretending that the burden wasn’t there.

He took off his coat and hanged it, trying to be as silent as possible in order not to wake the whole house up at that hour. As he walked further into the dark parlour, Charlie’s loud cries came to his ears. He was having troubles sleeping, again.

He made his way towards the stairway, squinting his eyes in the semi-darkness to see better, when something caught his attention. It was a voice, a soft, soothing voice singing a song upstairs.

Someone holds me safe and warm

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory

Tommy began walking up the stairs, step after step, drawn by the beautiful sound. He knew who that voice belonged to. (Y/n) was disobeying his orders, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be angry, far too fascinated. Soon Charlie’s cries faded, and the only thing that could be heard was her enchanting voice.

Far away

Long ago

Glowing dim as an ember

That hauntingly beautiful lullaby brought him back to over a year ago, when his late wife’s voice used to reverberate through the walls. Ever since her death, the silence had been haunting him, only broken by the echo she left behind.

Things my heart

Used to know

Things it yearns to remember

Tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes, but he was quick to push them back. He stopped at the entrance of is Charlie’s bedroom, watching as (Y/n) tenderly held the child in her arms, unaware of his presence. His son had finally fallen asleep, and the peaceful expression on his face reflected how safe he was feeling.

“And a song someone sings

Once upon a December”

She finished her song, and there was silence again. She placed Charlie back on the soft mattress and tucked him in, careful not to wake him up again. When she turned to leave the room, causing their eyes to meet, fear dawned on her young features. It was clear she wasn’t expecting to find him there. For a few seconds, neither of them did nor said anything. Then, as if remembering where she was, (Y/n) slowly exited the room, closing the door behind her. Her arm accidentally brushed against him in the process, the contact almost burning through his shirt. As they stood face to face in the hallway, she avoided his gaze, probably waiting for him to scold her, or fire her, or something worse. And a question popped into Tommy’s mind. Was she that scared of him?

(Y/n)’s heart was racing inside her chest as her boss’s unreadable gaze rested on her. She had never found herself in the position to fear him, nor had she ever had a reason to, but she had never broke any rule before, or crossed any line. And she had no idea how he would react to disobedience. The last thing she wanted was to get on the gangster’s bad side.

“It was a nice song.” His low voice pulled her out of her thoughts, making her gulp. Suddenly, she realised how close they were.

“Mr Shelby, I…” she stuttered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, shifting her eyes on the ground, finding it way more comfortable to face him without having to look at his impassive expression. “It’s just… nothing was working, and…” she started to ramble, but the words got stuck in her throat. “It won’t happen again.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, studying her, and his calmness made her even more nervous, for it made him unpredictable. Then something changed in his eyes. His features softened, and she could swear his lips curved into a small smile. “Go to sleep, (Y/n).”

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it right away. He wasn’t angry? He wasn’t going to fire her? Was it an emotion, the one that had just broken through his ever-unfazed face? She blinked, trying to recollect herself, deciding that it would be better to listen to him before he changed his mind.

“Goodnight, Mr Shelby.” She politely said, before walking past him to go to her room.

“(Y/n).” He called her, making her stop in her tracks. She turned around, her nervousness coming back again as she waited for him to speak.

“You’re allowed to sing, if you want.”

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic

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ivyluvsyouu · 2 months

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𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑰𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒔/𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑪𝒚𝒏𝒐, 𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒐, 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂

𝑻𝒘! 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅/𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑪𝒚𝒏𝒐

He started to get worried when you didn't return home when you said you would. He went out looking for you himself and when he went to where your commission was what he saw horrified him. There was blood everywhere and you were lying on the ground lifeless. He ran over to you and picked you up in his arms and rushed you to Tighnari. "Tighnari please, there has to be something you can do." A part of him knew you were gone but the other part didn't want to believe it. He refused to believe his strong s/o was gone. Impossible. So, when Tighnari told Cyno there was nothing he could do Cyno just nodded and left

He never gave himself time to properly grieve. He just drowned himself in his work and his studies. He bottled up all of his emotions and just tried to act like he was fine. People close to him like Tighnari could see right through him though. No matter how many times Tighnari told him he could talk to him about it Cyno never did. "They're gone. It's in the past." He was furious with himself for not being able to protect you. He often thinks about what he could have done. Maybe if he had gotten you to Tighnari quicker or maybe if he had just gone with you on the commission, you'd still be with him.

No matter how much time passed he never got over your death. He never found another s/o either. He didn't want anybody but you. You were the love of his life, and you were gone.

𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒐

"Please, Darling you have to stay strong for me." He begged. But you didn't even hear him. You were already gone. You had been sick for a while and Albedo put everything he was working on pause to try and find some kind of cure for you. He tried everything but nothing made you better. And when you died, he felt like he failed you. No, he knew he had failed you. He shut himself up in Dragonspine for the next few months. Not even allowing Sucrose to come up to Dragonspine. He needed to be alone.

Even after you died, he tried to find the cure to the sickness you had to prevent someone else dying from that awful disease. After a few months of grieving, he started going back down to the city again and he started letting Sucrose come back to Dragonspine but the people around him notice a difference in him. He was less talkative and less welcoming. He would just do his work and paint and when he did paint it would always be paintings of you.

He opened up to Sucrose once about you. "If I had just been able to find a cure, they would still be here..." That night when he opened up to Sucrose he cried and cried about you. He cried about how he missed you. Cried about how he couldn't save you.

𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐

You died right in front of him. You both were in the middle of a commission and Xiao didn't see the last enemy that was standing behind him. Before the enemy could strike you pushed him out of the way and allowed the enemy to stab you right in the chest. Xiao quickly killed the enemy and rushed to you. He knew there was no way you had survived that, but he was just in shock. "Y/n!! Can you hear me!?" He asked shaking you frantically. He ripped a piece of his sleeve off and tried to wrap it around your wound to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. You were gone.

He never ever forgave himself for that. His purpose in life was to protect people. And he couldn't protect his own S/o. He shut himself off from everyone. Only coming down to the city when Zhongli needed him. He felt like a failure. And when Zhongli tried to talk about it with him Xiao would just brush it off. "I'm fine." he would insist.

Whenever he would go down to Liyue everything reminded him of you. He wouldn't even go to Laternrite anymore. It reminded him of when you and him would go together and watch the fireworks. Everything reminded him of his love for you and how he couldn't protect you.

𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂

You had always had a bad immune system. So, when you came down with a fever you insisted to your fiancé that you were okay and that he didn't need to miss his boat to Inazuma and that you would be fine by the time he came back. Kazuha didn't like the idea of leaving you when you weren't feeling well but you insisted that you would be okay.

So, when he had gotten word that you had passed away while he was gone, he was devastated that he didn't listen to his gut. He rushed home and the doctors confirmed that you had died, and they explained to him what had gone wrong and why you died. "Thank you for your time doctor." He said. His voice shaking and tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He went to a place that he would take you on dates. A quiet meadow away from the city.

He sat there and thought about what he could have done differently. For some reason he just had a gut feeling that if he had stayed you would've been fine. He hated to think about the fact that you had to die alone while he was off wandering in Inazuma. After that night he caught a boat back to the nation you had been born in. Mondstadt, He spent the next few months exploring the nation and living there to try and feel close to you again.

He would have terrible nightmares about you. To the point where he hated going to sleep. Nightmares of you dying, Nightmares of seeing your lifeless body on the ground. These nightmares didn't last forever they were just in the first few months of him grieving.

Eventually he returned to his usually wandering and he somewhat returned to normal. He never forgot about you though. He always had in the back of his mind what he could have done to help you.

Thank you sm for reading! requests are always open!

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fotibrit · 7 months

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Tony Stark survived the snap, but barely.

His survival was kept under wraps, so much so that nobody was told beyond his doctor and Nick Fury. His family was allowed to grieve, given only the arc reactor that was in his chest.

Tony Stark was in a coma for a long time, long enough for his family to move on. Long enough for Morgan to barely recognize pictures of him, long enough for Peoper to go back to being called Virginia, long enough that monuments to Iron Man had long since been painted over. Long enough for Peter to be looking at colleges, maybe in college.

When Tony Stark woke out of his coma, he spent a while trying to decide what to do. He could announce his survival, disrupt everyone’s lives, simply to make his own better. He could get a new identity, try to reintegrate into society, get a job and an apartment and learn to live outside the workshop.

Tony elected for the second and started his new life, comfortable in an apartment near where his old tower had been. He started a new job, he learned all he could about the time he had been out, he tried to avoid anything to do with his old life.

But he didn’t need to avoid mentions of Peter Parker, he soon noticed. the name wasn’t anywhere. Not on the MIT student list, not listed as a high school graduate, not at his old apartment… nowhere. Spider man was still around, but Peter? Nowhere.

And as much as Tony tried to avoid getting sucked into his old life, he wondered what had become of his pseudo-son. What happened?

Tony found out what happened when he came face to face with Spider-Man. And the hero stopped in his tracks. And Tony stopped in his.

Because Peter had just found out that Tony was very much alive, no matter how different he looked now.

And based on the stunned expression on his face and the first word out of his mouth being “kid”, Peter guessed that somehow, tony had evaded the grasp of the spell.

Because the spell dosnt work on people in a coma.

And Tony could never forget the son he died to save.

#tony stark #iron man #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #spider man #spiderson #irondad #marvel mcu #avengers #peter parker and tony stark

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starwrighter · 10 months

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You know what I love in DpxDc crossovers?

When people explain Jason's pit madness as having to do with ectoplasm. Whether it be the hc that the pits are corrupted ectoplasm, Jason being a revenant before being dunked in the pits or any other idea/theory I love it all!

But you know what I don't see much of? The pit madness being seen as something more clinical. In most of the DpxDc crossovers I've read it's always treated as something that can be easily and quickly fixed. I don't see much content about Jason's pit madness being treated like an serious illness and it's honestly underrated.

Make his pit madness be like cancer for ghost's. Something spread throughout his body like a fucked up spider web slowly killing him as it continues to go untreated. Making his life emotionally and oftentimes physically painful. Have Jason assume his pain is just the consequences of his vigilante life since nobody could ever diagnose him with anything.

Danny feeling heartbroken when he sees Jason not because he can sniff it out or sense it but because he can see it. Oftentimes cancer doesn't show symptoms until it's advanced. For Danny this is like seeing someone who's medical treatment has been so neglected that they're covered in tumors! Danny screaming bloody murder at Bruce for allowing things to get this far; for not getting him help and allowing things to fester like this. Danny's ugly crying because he's a child and he doesn't know how to react to something like this! It's a horrifying sight when medical care is neglected, but seeing someone suffering so much without even knowing what's going on? It's terrifying.

Jason trying to comfort Danny but Danny just starts crying harder because Jason doesn't know what the hell is going on and someone has to be the one to tell him.

Treat Jason's pit madness as a symptom of something bigger, not something that can be fixed with the flick of a wrist. Show me the grief of having a loved one/being the loved one suffering from something that has a good chance of killing them. Where the treatment can make you feel worse than the disease does sometimes. Seeing a loved one get weaker and weaker yet reassuring yourself it's just the process of healing and they're going to be fine.

Have it be something that's treatment is long and strenuous, something that might need surgery to fix. Jason needing a bone marrow transplant or an organ and Danny being the only halfa that's willing to give it to him. Jason having to choose whether he's willing to risk a child's life to save himself or if he's just going to die a second time.

(Bonus! Have Jason deny the operation but Doctors work differently in the realms so it's done anyway without his consent. Does Jason think Danny died from the operation? Maybe it's some important ghost bone marrow/organ and the doctors being dodgey and refusing to let anyone see Danny before he's recovered enough? Jason grieving over a child and lashing out because "why would anyone decide the life of a child was something you could throw away like that!")

#angst #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #tw illness #tw cancer #tw medical malpractice #ghosts: medical care is free here! :)#Jason: hey uh I don't think I want this surgery #Ghost doctors: >:( it's mandatory #Jason hating ghost hospitals fr fr when this is over

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calisources · 6 months

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ROYAL ROMANCE AND SPICE PART TWO. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance

this is part two. part one can be found here. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.

actions and scenarios. add +reverse for the opposite scenario.

(play pretend): our muses have to pretend to be married or betrothed to be allowed in the same room together.

(one bed): while on the run, our muses must share a bed.

(courtly love): one muse is a knight at the service of the other muse, and they have courtly love behavior.

(it can never be): one muse is married while the other is a knight not allowed to be married. Theirs is an impossible romance.

(coronation): receiver is crowned king/queen, sender is watching closely.

(succession): the unlikely heir, receiver is crowned heir to the realm while sender, their fiance/lover watches.

(where our hands touch): our muses hands touch accidentally causing them to pause mid conversation.

(do not strike): sender is about to slap receiver for an offense but receiver catches sender’s hand, bringing them close.

(am i not enough): receiver finds out sender has a mistress/lover.

(i am not taken): sender questions receiver’s relationship with someone, receiver informs them said someone is their relative, to sender’s delight.

(yo-ho a pirate’s life): sender is a pirate and receiver finds themselves on their ship.

(bridal style): receiver is injured and so, sender picks them up to avoid further injury.

(your coat is warmer): sender is cold or underdressed and receiver places their coat on their shoulders.

(sworn enemies as lovers): despite being sworn enemies, our muses pretend to be lovers/or marry to join forces against a bigger enemy.

(the faints): sender faints/trips and receiver is there to catch them.

(in the rain): our muses are caught in the midst of rain and seek refuge while it passes. They are alone.

(bath): receiver is taking a bath and the sender appears in the room, taking in the suggestive view.

(masquerade): at a ball, people are encouraged to dance. Sender and receiver do not know one another and dance under the guise of strangers.

(masquerade for us): sender and receiver know each other and play pretend during the night with their masks on.

(like a shoe): sender helps the receiver with their shoes, their hand lingers on the receiver's ankle.

(through the mirror): sender asks receive to help them out of their dress, receiver takes their time with each lace.

(how it begins): our muses are encouraged to talk alone, hoping to find common ground for a marriage.

(bedding): sender and receiver were wed and now it’s their wedding night.

(the gods are our witness): receiver and sender fooling around, the desire grows with each day.

(their knight): receiver is a knight/prince who gives their cloak to a lady/princess to help her cover herself.

(victory tastes good): reunited, our muses have their first kiss after a war/battle.

(learn from me): sender is teaching receiver how to use a weapon and stands too close.

(marriage of inconvenience): sender and receiver are forced into a marriage that neither likes. Despite this, a spark is lit.

(in love and war): our muses are enemies, somehow, through forced proximity, they find comfort in each other.

(a kiss like medicine): sender is grieving and receiver is comforting them, in the midst of it all, sender kisses receiver.

(shut me up): during an argument, the sender forcefully kisses the receiver to shut them up.

(in your arms): continuation of the one bed trope, our muses wake up in the same bed, having drifted close and cuddle.

(it’s fate): sender and receiver are fated to be together and they meet, they can feel it in their souls.

(what is honor in the hands of love): despite not being wed, our muses sleep together in a night of thirst and love.

(mutual pining): sender and receiver are in love, tension keeps on growing but both are afraid of ruining what they already have.

(defend): sender hits someone to defend receiver’s honor.

(runaway wedding): our muses marry in secret.

Sentences and quotes. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

What I want... the only thing I want has always been you.

She looks weak and delicate but you don't know how brave she is. She's the bravest woman in all the three realms.

After I met you, my life has purpose. I don't know what my life would be like without you.

I can deal with him trampling me underneath his feet .. but I can't bare to see him hurt you even a little bit.

You don't need scores of suitors. You need only one... if he's the right one.

Which is why we're too young to realize certain things are impossible.

The very essence of romance is uncertainty.

But she doesn't like him. I thought she didn't like him.

. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear.”I know the truth now. You've figured out I'm falling in love with you and you're trying to make me stop by hurting me this way. Well it won't work.

You’re far too prickly tempered to be a mistress. You’re far better suited as a wife.

I want to fill every part of you, breathe the air from your lungs and leave my handprints on your soul.

When my mother-in-law visits, the mice throw themselves at the cat, begging to be eaten.

Every word you have ever uttered, is engraved upon my heart.”

. . . if you can't see the good man he is, you need to unscrew them eyeballs of yours and try on a different pair.

The man irritated her just like a rash.

I’ve no memory of how it feels to be devoid of the craving. But you must know what you do.

If I choose to make a darling of you, there is nothing you can do about it.

"She was going away, but I detained her.

if i loved you any less i might be able to talk about it more

I'm asking you to tell Lady Cassandra about my good qualities as well as the bad ones.

Don’t mistake softness for weakness. Only a strong man can be soft with a woman.

I will make her mine.

It simply isn’t a woman’s nature to be silent for prolonged periods of time.

I was never infamous. In fact, I'm fairly standard as far as rakes go.

What do ladies wear beneath their riding trousers?

Count this as a mere taste, sweetheart, of all the pleasure I can give you.

Shall we duel with our lips?

Are you saying that I normally look as if I'm tending sheep? With straw in my hair? As if I might yodel?

Your Grace, Are you trying to get me into your bed?

You don't have to kiss a lot of frogs to recognize a prince when you find one.

Thought you didn't like red hair.

The gown makes my mouth water, love.

Husband-hunting. Always a rousing sport. I suppose you go there dressed to kill.

It's just that I don't think friends tie friends to the bedpost.

I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me.

We are here to discuss your foolhardy behavior.

Masquerades are frivolous, scandalous—

Tonight, with these masks, ladies are allowed the freedom men have without during the entire year.

My body craves your touch. Every time I look at those lips, I want to kiss you senseless.

You’ve driven me to the brink of madness without laying a finger on me.

The young Miss Stratton was a taste of heaven, there was no doubt… and he was going to savor every mouthful.

You claim I have your heart. And what if you have mine?

Courtly love is a dangerous game, and those who play for lust rather than love are often richly rewarded in scorn.

He won my hand from my father and my heart.

Some gentlemen are not afraid of an assertive lady.

I seem to remember you calling me a bastard for watching you bathe.

It's nearly winter, and the nights are long, mo duinne.

I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and I shall know that I've served ye well.

Don’t be afraid. There’s the two of us now.

You are the pineapple of Great Britain.

I like my pleasure guaranteed.

I was warned against the thrall of a maiden’s magic.

I cannot concentrate with you hovering, breathing, and telling me to concentrate.

You should not be here in my chambers. . .

It is you I cannot sacrifice. I burn… for you.

To Meet A Beautiful Woman Is One Thing, But To Meet Your Best Friend In The Most Beautiful Of Women Is Something Entirely Apart.

Yes, I Know. You Are Not The Marrying Type. Yet Have You Considered You Are Not The Type Women Wish To Marry?

I have been longing to do it again.

I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help a lady in distress?

I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so she does not have to marry me.

You have half a husband, Charlotte. Half a life. I cannot give you the future you deserve. Not a full me.

If what we have is half, then we shall make it the very best half. I love you. It is enough.

The next time we meet, it will be in our wedding day.

Marrying for love is like adding extra to your meal.

I do not want you to be married. I would grow to hate your wife.

Mark my words, Lila. You'll be mine in all ways you can imagine.

Would you cast aside your marriage for me? I would offer you the one thing marriage has never given you; pleasure.

#rp meme #sentences memes #meme call #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme

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