#after you've gone over 75% of the process

[ghosts-of-rishi]

The Acolyte was a show

Mae looked stunning in her original outfit though

amen to levels, gradient maps, and brightness/contrast

[blood-mocha-latte]

Rie!!! 55 for Speirton and 75 for Randlemartin

beloved!! i got 75 for another request, so please enjoy some Lovely speirton <33

- - -

Carwood is staring at him like he’s lost his mind.

Ron can’t blame him for that. Especially as the sun dips further and further into the horizon and the warmth soaked into the sand goes with it.

Carwood looks good, though. Simple white button-up, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, black trousers. Ron hadn’t bothered, just stripped down to the army-issue t-shirt and left his khaki in the Chevy.

“What was the thought process with this?” Carwood asks him, voice bordering on the edge of something slightly lighter than usual. It’s almost like a laugh, just more wary. Ron just shrugs, passing by Carwood to pop the trunk of the truck and push up onto the tailgate. He leaves Carwood standing where he is, leaning back against the side of the truck.

Ron’s shipping out to Seoul in two days, and it feels different than shipping out in ‘44. More final. The perpetual advantages and significant disadvantages of getting older and gaining more experience, he supposes.

“Guess I figured I oughta take you somewhere.” He says aloud, ambivalent, shifting against the truck bed enough to fish his lighter out of his pocket and tug his pack out of the opposite one. He tucks a smoke into the corner of his mouth and lights it with one hand. Carwood hums, doesn’t join him on the tailgate.

The blood red sunset has long since set into dreary night, and Ron stares out at the black, black water and thinks.

Carwood doesn’t ask him if he’s worried. Doesn’t ask him anything about it, and why would he? They haven’t talked about it at all, have walked around it like a set bear trap in the middle of the kitchen.

“Have we ever even gone out anywhere?” Carwood does ask, after a minute, rounding the side of the truck to lean against the tailgate. He’s not close enough to touch Ron, but Ron can feel the warmth of his arm, where he props his elbow against the metal.

Ron pulls the smoke out of his mouth with two fingers and examines the filter. “Not that I recall.” He says.

“Unless you count you coming down here.”

“I guess so.”

Silence, again. After a moment, Carwood makes a quiet clicking noise in the back of his throat and reaches for the smoke. Ron gives it up without a fight, and immediately misses it.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Carwood tells him, and his voice is low. He coughs, slightly, around the cigarette. Ron stares out at the water.

“I know.”

He doesn’t. Neither does Carwood.

This is their biggest point of contention. Always will be, he thinks: that neither of them want to confront the large, arching beast that lurks around the corner in the form of deployment. Of Korea.

After a moment, Carwood speaks up again. “You ever read A Farewell To Arms?”

He gives the cigarette back to Ron. Ron blinks at the cherry before taking it. He doesn’t like reading. The letters switch on him, or it just makes his head ache. Carwood knows that. Of course he does. “Saw the movie.”

“That’s an older one.”

“Guess so.”

A heavy hand lands on Ron’s knee, steady and warm. “There’s this quote.” He says, even. “Where she says that maybe he’ll fall in love with her all over again. He says that he already loves her enough, that she’s going to ruin him. She says that she wants to, and he replies that he wants that, too.”

Carwood pauses, as he talks. Like he’s trying to remember the specifics. His hand stays at Ron’s knee and doesn’t move.

“Remind you of us?” Ron asks, wry, and Carwood just huffs.

“I don’t know.” He says. “I was thinking about it, the other day. When I was looking at your papers.” Ron took another drag of the smoke before handing it back to him. “You wanna know the line that I remember, word for word?”

Ron just hums. He drops the hand that had been holding the cigarette, tracing over the back of Carwood’s hand. “Sure.”

“Life isn't hard to manage when you've nothing to lose.” Carwood tells him, low.

The back of Ron’s neck feels hot. He stares out at the waterline. Carwood’s hand leaves his knee as he pushes his thumb along Ron’s cheekbone.

“You don’t have nothing to lose, anymore.” Carwood tells him quietly. “Try and remember that.” His fingers run along the nape of Ron’s neck, and Ron finally turns to look at him, tracing over the deep creases in his eyes, the exhaustion in his expression.

“I will.” Ron tells him. It’s not a promise, but it’s as good as.

It’s quiet after that. They’ve never been to the beach together. Ron wonders if this counts as a date. If they’ve ever really had one.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Carwood tells him again, voice hoarser than before.

Ron reaches up, wrapping his fingers around Carwood’s wrist. He turns his palm over, presses his mouth to the warm, calloused skin there.

“I know.”

[keevansixx]

don't worry about it. you'll be fine.

the squirrel super secret of it all is that you will naturally acquire all these things in pursuit of your hidden desires over time. (if you really want to)

this is a perfectly natural human thing and something you've already gone through probably several times so far in your life up to this point. (though in retrospect, your parents likely called it "fads" or "phases" while you were going through your childhood or teenage years and maybe you only briefly recognized it after moving on to the next big thing in your life and were cleaning out your room to make way for the new.) like i said, this is all normal.

"humans subconciously acquire the things it desires over time."

if you are a sculptor, you will acquire the tools n' things that will help you sculpt...(even if that involves spontaneously buying chicken wire for no reason at all just because you went into a supply store looking for nails and paints for a home project and ended up with a bunch of random things along with the paint and nails just because you thought you would need them later.)

same thing for artists and painters. you walk into a store for basic groceries and wind up with groceries and pipe cleaners, and finger paints, and some nifty watercolor set on sale for 75% off, and a couple of bottles of rubbing alcohol (or cheap terps) to help clean some stubborn acrylic paints off your nice set of art brushes while looking through the seasonal art supply stash of your favorite grocery/item store while wondering if that cheap bottle of olive oil on isle 3 could be used as a basic oil paint thinner for an art wash project without running all over the studio carpet.

writers are no different. you will walk into stores or bookstores (or heck, anywhere there is some form of paper products and accoutre'mou) and subconciously start acquiring things that are within your current financial budget and you will start to stockpile those things into your personal home environment. it's a gradual process that happens over years that you won't recognize until your closest acquaintences visit your home and remark how cozy a library you've built for yourself, or how goblin(cottage)core you've grown over the years.

this is normal...

yes, you will acquire fancy notebooks by sheer instinct, and then proceed to completely ignore them in favor of the cheap dollar store composition notebooks (or ring binders full of cheap loose leaf school notebook paper, or a 30 pack of post it notes pads on sale in stationary isle, or that weird roll of blank cash register tape you carry in your backpack for no reason other than if you need some quick paper to jot down an idea) that are rough and tumble for everyday use while your fancy notebooks gather dust in visually appealing places in your home. yes, you will cultivate borderline fetishes for certain ink pens and writing tools (i have tin lunch boxes (plural) full of unsharpened pencils. for one, i love the esthetic and handfeels of a clutch of pencils in my off hand while i write, for the other, well....one never knows when they will need a pencil...better to be prepared than to be without.) yes, you will acquire research materials (books) in stackable quantities out of habit because you think you need them to develop a certain character or concept. you may even develop certain fashion habits while writing (like comphy clothes, a hooded robe, or favorite PJ's that put you in a writing mood...both at home and in public. though the fuzzy PJ bottoms may raise eyebrows at the coffee shops.)

as for the hearts of enemies, feline familiars, and makeshift magical talismans...that's all personal choice and general reflections of the individual writer. if that's what you want in your life, moar power to ya, you do you boo boo.

but the coffee mugs WILL randomly spawn in your cupboards for no reasons other than someone gifted you one, random strange acquisition (oft through parental intrusion), and/or you forgot about them(plural) over the years leading you to question your sanity on why you have so many tea cups/mugs to begin with, how they got there, and a heated internal debate about the need to go to the store for more tea/coffee to justify the ownership and usage of such a unique collection of hot berevage service containers.

in conclusion,

you don't really have to do anything other than to exist and to write. the rest is just an outward manifestation of subconcious acquisitions into your daily life and will accumulate naturally over time.

i mean, if you are seriously concerned about acquiring the stuff n' things of writing. I always advise taking it to it's most logical and most absurd extremes and comparing the two.

most logical is for you to take a picture of your favorite writing spot in your home, continue on writing, and after a decade of writing and living, you look around at your surroundings and compare it to the starting picture/s for all the subtle changes in your life that have happenned because you are a writer. (works for any art, and any medium.)

the most absurd extreme is to rush out and spend an insane amount of money on writey stuff and things while dressing strangely and cackling at nothing while furiously scribling into a comically large leather bound tome notebook with a quill pen in public spaces while trying to converse with anyone who is not completley weirded out, and will still engage you at that point, in shakespearian english.

the logical first is the natural lifecycle of any artist, in any medium. given enough time, you will surround your nests with the things that are a reflection of yourself. The absurd latter is a rediculous characterization of a writer person as told throught the lense of parody.

how far you wish to take it depends on you.

I’m still new to the whole writing thing. Should writers have these things too? Is there like a store I can go to?

[cosmicallyavg]

I posted 4,056 times in 2022

1,014 posts created (25%)

3,042 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thirteenmyspacegirl

@cosmicallyavg

@timelostdoctor

@timelordgifs

@regenerationofthedoctor

I tagged 4,031 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#doctor who - 2,543 posts

#q - 1,894 posts

#thirteen - 898 posts

#thasmin - 606 posts

#yasmin khan - 520 posts

#dw spoilers - 305 posts

#series 13 - 305 posts

#dw fanart - 279 posts

#the power of the doctor - 251 posts

#eli dont look at this - 206 posts

Longest Tag: 66 characters

#💜🖤💚❤💗💛💚🧡🖤💜🤍🤎🧡💙💛🖤🤍💓💗💞💜🤍🤎🧡💙🖤💚❤🤎💓💓💗💞🤍

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

hello everyone and happy pride!! 🌈

this is a project i’ve been working on for a few months now and am so excited to finally share the completed version with everyone!!! i’m a sucker for pride flag sticker/etc. designs and i decided to create some of my own - they are subtle enough to be safe for anyone who maybe can’t normally buy pride stuff, but still recognizable within the community (hopefully lmao) 

then, of course i wanted to combine them all into one big piece that would still be subtle - i was inspired by those vintage butterfly species posters and wanted to recreate a version of that with my pride butterflies! the labels underneath each butterfly are short descriptions of what each flag represents, to also help keep things under the radar. super special thanks to @yourlocaltrylingual for helping me with the french translations <3333

all of the individual butterflies can be found on my redbubble, as well as the main poster! they all have nondescript names for safe ordering <;3 

i hope everyone is having, and continues to have a safe and happy pride month, i couldn’t have asked for a better community to be a part of!

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

1,039 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

#4

has anyone else ever stopped to think how the tardis feels when doctors and companions leave because its ruining me rn

like imagine you're this sentient spaceship and you have an unbreakable bond with a time lord who stole you and ran away. and how sad it must be watching them die and be reborn over and over again. feeling them die and be reborn over and over again. oftentimes destroying your very being in the process. you've been together for thousands of years, possibly more, and you've gone on nearly every adventure together. 

they know you inside and out (literally) and while they are a quite careless owner, they make up for it with the constant repairs when you get damaged or need general maintenance. its how they show you they care, because you know they do. you have a telepathic connection with them, after all.

you take them wherever they need to go, even if its not where they want to go. its fun to show off every now and then and make it look like they don't know how to pilot you. but all of time and space, so many distress signals, you hear planets and ships and people calling out for help. your time lord isn't like the others, they like to help. you take them to those people so they can help.

and oh, the people. your time lord likes to pick up strays along the way - human beings more often than not. you don't particularly like the idea, the humans always have sad endings, and you don't like to see - to feel - your time lord experience that sadness over and over again. but they continue. how many has it been now? too many to count. but you keep count, you do. 

some of the humans you're more fond of than others. some of them your time lord is more fond of than the others. some of them grow on you, others don't, but all the same if your time lord cares about them, you care about them. you like when they say that you’re bigger on the inside, that part is fun.

perhaps you don’t mind the humans as much as you should, you're supposed to have multiple pilots anyway. if this is how you procure them, then so be it. unfortunately your time lord never cares to show any of them how. they would rather bumble around on their own and crash land into things than share that part of you to their human friends. hubris has always been their downfall.

there have been a few that have done it though, some more successfully than others. finally! you have another pilot!! you like these ones especially, they pilot you much more carefully than your time lord ever has, and they have established what little telepathic connection their tiny human brains can handle. not quite the same that you have with your time lord, but every little bit helps you feel more connected to those humans than the others.

it hurts more when those ones leave.

it hurts when all of them leave.

but your time lord continues on. drying up the tears and probably regenerating into a new face - again - but this new face loves you all the same. they pick up more strays. the strays leave. repeat endlessly.

you have too many bedrooms in storage, too many clothing preferences in the back of your wardrobes, too many favorite snacks left to expire in the cupboards, too many personal items and too many souvenirs from their travels hidden away, never to be picked up again. but you're infinite, you can keep going so long as your time lord keeps breathing. you can continue growing and changing, making room for every new human friend, altering yourself for every version of your time lord.

you hold all of these memories, all of these lives, just the same as your time lord. but they don't have to organize, sort, and carry the physical reminders of all of those lives like you do.

they can saunter off and forget it all, when its convenient. but you know they don't actually forget. neither of you can ever forget. 

and the weight isn't any less just because there's two of you to carry it.

1,114 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#3

wait no in jodies dwm interview she says she was pregnant while filming tpotd and that it gave her a special insight into the character that no other doctor has had before because she actually had two hearts and im really not okay im So emotional

1,586 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

#2

alignment chart but it’s just the different ways people type out “tardis” when they write fic

2,434 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the ending of thirteens era being "she is loved" and her literally saying that she loved being this version is so. good actually. this whole era was full of so much hatred for thirteen/jodie and having her last moments be full of love was so good. that the doctor accepted the love and had a happy regeneration for the first time in a while. it really felt like a nod to all of the people who stuck by her side during all of this and actually watched her era and appreciated it. a nod to people like us. and im so happy

2,654 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

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