#I am so strong I am so brave

[rustyelias]

I am gods great warrior rn I’m doing it chat I’m getting up for collage

[ibrithir-was-here]

.

[ghost--bot]

you know sometimes i roll my eyes at everyone who spam reblogs the sneef post or any post because i was the direct cause of it but going through the notes it does tickle me that i have started countless, unceasing battles between mutuals with that post. it's like i shot franz ferdinand

[canongf]

recovery is hard!!! i'm tired. i can't get comfortable. i'm in pain and i'm swollen. sometimes i'm so swollen that breathing is a chore. i can't open my mouth, so i can't yawn or lick my lips. i can't brush the back of my teeth so i never really feel clean. i can't chew any food and i'm hungry. i look in the mirror and i don't recognize my face yet. it's hard!!! but i know eddie thinks i am so strong!!!

[wormsdyke]

i must wash my hair. washing my hair is the mind-helper. washing my hair is the little-joy that brings total peace. i will face the shower. i will permit shampoo to pass over me and through me. and when my hair dries, i will turn the inner eye to see it’s path. where greasy hair has gone there will be nothing. only clean hair will remain.

[sodrippy]

so frustrated and pissed off at myself for wanting to do things but not being able to and having to be gentle w myself bc i need rest but then how long before that becomes just laziness and shirking accountability and--

[crimeronan]

everyone needs to clap for me, the strongest person with the hardest life In The World*

*did all my PT and walking even though i have a tummyache. and feel like An Actual Slug.

[sportsthoughts]

No lb for me tonight but fingers crossed I wake up to a win and will rewatch in the morning

[rottmnt-brainrot-hours]

Way back, I drew Donnie cosplaying as Entrapta, so here's the sequel:

Raph dressed like Scorpia

[chiropteracupola]

just a couple of creepy 18th-century innkeepers talking shop!

[featuring @borisyvain's lazarus mcclure and my own james webster]

[xenodile]

The burden of liking short and/or flat anime women and constantly seeing my faves drawn with tits they don't have or referred to as "loli", everyday I suffer greater and greater injustices

[hidey-writes]

saturday six

The camp cat comes to a stop a few paces from where Shen Wei is, cross-legged on a low rock at the base of a cluster of other rocks. She sits with her tail tucked neatly over her paws, quiet and alert beside him. It’s nice. There’s no need to make conversation with a cat. There’s nothing a cat wants to unburden onto you through language. It’s simpler, with cats.

hehe more cut shen wei and camp cat interactions! i really liked this paragraph but now that i've done my revision read of the down draft of the guardian bingo pride fic and started to re-outline, haha ... none of this will remotely be in there. but ohhhh it's going to be really cool i think ... i'm really excited. i was hoping to get to do a lot of trying to explain what being in the alliance military was like to make shen wei Like This in canon, and ... yummmmmm it sure is happening!!

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

messy doodles for the samurai novel this goes out to me and the other like 2 people insane about their dynamic in this very specific scenario

[thelesbianthespianposts]

I think i should be able to beat up anyone who says “I could make that” at a modern art museum

[ghostsandmirrors]

dream, not of what you are, but of what you want to be.

- lotus, warframe. — original images what you are: [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] what you want to be: [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x]

texture credits! n/a

[genderqueerpond]

you know, I really, really loved Girl Whose Name I Didn't Catch, girl in the warehouse who took care of Tegan.

like if I had been watching it when it aired I would have half expected her to stay on as Tegan's replacement, and I would have really wanted that.

But then I realized she reminded me of Nyssa a bit, and that Probably means Tegan would love her as much as I did, and I kind of lost my mind a little lot. So here's a... thing.

you wake up in a besieged warehouse with a beautiful girl

your head is pounding

and you're dizzy

and you're in a besieged warehouse with a beautiful girl

who is also smart, and brave, and

you're in a besieged warehouse with a beautiful girl

and maybe you might want to stay.

(please let her survive. please let her survive. please let her survive.)

there's only one way this story can end.

of course you're going with him, with your oldest friend in the only life you really know, of course you are what else would you do?

but then the time comes, and you just can't bring yourself to move.

and still you don't have any idea how you'll ever survive here, 

in the normal world, lead a normal life

but a beautiful girl is standing beside you,

and she takes your hand

and you think maybe, just maybe you can figure it out.

(please don't let her die, please dont let her die, please dont let her die.)

you wanted to keep her but instead, you stayed with her.

(she's too brave. she is going to die.)

Good ending: she lives, and you stay with her. For a while. It is a beautiful but temporary love, all the more beautiful for its transience. A season, nothing more. But how you wish it could have lasted.

Bad ending: she dies. And you stay behind, only because you can't bear any more.

(Every death has always hurt just as much as the first you ever witnessed. You never got used to it. Sometimes you wonder if there's something wrong with you for that.

But somehow, this one hurts even more.)

Either way, you leave. That was always going to happen. From the moment you arrived here, it was inevitable. 

This is fixed. There is no way out of it.

I'm sorry.

A man dies because you tried to ask him for help.

He didn't do anything, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

(and she died because she stayed behind to give you a chance.)

(and Nyssa died because she cared about you.)

(and loving you kills and kills and kills.)

the Doctor has taught you to live by running from trauma to trauma, never stopping to feel it. Afraid to stop

But then you did stop. For nearly a year, roughly, by your reckoning, albeit less than a Gallifreyan year.

and now you have to get out.

and you shake their hands with as much distance as you can muster and then immediately you turn and run away, and it has to be this way and it can't be any other way, because if you don't run you won't ever leave.

This is the only way that you can leave.

and you run and run and as you leave the building you hear the familiar sound of them leaving you behind. the sound that underpins all your life, the sound you know as well as the sound of wind..

its only now that it sinks in, what you've done. and for a second you feel a wave of regret.

But there was always only one way this story could end. 

I'm sorry.

 

And you don't really think it's forever. A part of you assumes you'll see him again. He came back into your life once before. You've seen him come back into Nyssa's, and then into Leela's. And the Brigadier. 

As far as you know, he is someone who comes back to people. 

But people always die.

Once upon a time you felt indestructible. Like nothing could touch you, despite all you saw. Despite Adric. Despite Marc. 

(he was talking about Adric the other night. He thought you were asleep but you heard.)

But then Nyssa

And then you knew

It can happen to anyone. Absolutely anyone.

You'd never felt so vulnerable before. And after that, you never stopped feeling it. 

You know this one thing for sure: Life doesn't always work out. And no one is immune. Not the Doctor (so you have to take care of him, so you have to look after him. So you step, in your own way, into the space Nyssa left in his life. Ignoring the space she left in yours.) 

Not you (but who cares about you?) 

And not a smart, brave, beautiful girl.

(if only she hadn't run.

You'd all have gotten out.

There's a universe where that's what happens.

You believe that. You have to believe that.)

Of course you are leaving with the Doctor and Turlough. What else would you do? And the Doctor needs you. 

But you. Just. Can't. 

(either way, it was always going to be this. There is no way to change it.)

So imagine, instead of standing alone, you're holding hands with a beautiful girl.

(but it's not real.)

—

Wait. There's a third way this story can end. 

When you find her, badly hurt but not quite dead, you can't quite believe it. When you tilt her chin up gently and kiss her, and she closes her eyes and sighs, it is like a redemption. And when the ambulance that was called for you (a lifetime ago) arrives, it is like your own salvation, not just hers.

It doesn't last long. It is only a season until you go back to Brisbane, alone.

It is blissful while it does, all kisses and cuddles and soft and sweet, your high heels and bright red nail polish in perfect contrast to her down to earth smile, her jumpsuits and glasses and neat, unvarnished nails, her messy hair in the morning as she  blinks at you from her bed where you've spent the night, golden sunlight streaming over you both. She can't see you clearly even this close, without her glasses, so maybe she's seeing something better than what you are. Something softer. Something that was never hardened by this life of running that you've lived.

That's the problem, in the end. She just doesn't understand your life. Your past. The things that haunt you, the reasons you wake up screaming, and begging, and crying… 

She tries, but it is just too far outside of anything she knows. She can't really get it. And you, you need to be with someone who gets what you've been through. How conflicted you feel about it now.

(you were in a besieged warehouse with a beautiful girl.

and there was always, always, only one way this story could end: you lose her. you lose everything.)

But no one will ever get it, will they? At least she believed you, even if she didn't really understand. Why wasn't that enough? It's the most you're likely to get out here. 20th century Earth, what a joke. It may be your home but no one knows anything.

Will you be alone forever?

Is that another thing he's taken from you?

It makes you want to scream. 

So you drive into the desert and do just that, screaming and screaming until your lungs give out, and when your lungs give out you punch and kick the car, gasping and coughing, and when you can't do that any more you collapse on the ground and cry.

It's not even proper sobbing. Just breathless, teary whimpering, which is even more embarrassing. But there's no one here to see it.

After a while, you start to laugh. 

Because here you are. On your knees beside a car. Isn't that where this all started?

God, if that tyre right in your eyeline just now is as flat as it looks, you're going to– you're going to— god, you don't have the slightest idea how you're going to react.

It is.

And it turns out what you do is just quietly change it. All action, glad somehow to have something to do, all by yourself in the desert in the gathering night. You don't even blink. It isn't even a struggle. The clearest sign of all that you're not the person you were the first time you were here.

When it's done you feel lighter, somehow, as if you've finally let something go. As if all your sadness and grief and bitterness and rage went into this one tyre, and now you can just throw it away.

(you're in a car with a beautiful girl, and she's you.)

Funny.