#the hits don't stop coming do they.

[yesokayiknow]

anything on 13 and 14 for the bigeneration?

-since there’s already two of them, fourteen never gets shot, which means fifteen won’t be around for a while yet 😔. it also means that both the doctors play their own games against the toymaker! fourteen sticks with highest card, thirteen goes with mario kart (and wins, for the record. yes she will be holding the fact that she won her game and fourteen lost over his head forever. oh what’s that his game was pure chance and doesn’t have anything to do with his level of skill? tough)

-donna's spare room only has one bed, and they argue over who gets it for like an hour (thirteen's like i sleep on the floor a lot anyway it's fine you take the bed and fourteen's like you literally died like 5 hours ago YOU take the bed) until donna's like Why Doesn't Somebody Take The Fucking Sofa. that somebody is thirteen bc fourteen's really tall lmao. donna comes downstairs the next morning to find fourteen curled up on the floor next to the sofa anyway and is like hm i sure hope this won't be representative of their general relationship!

-for the first week, thirteen is very much not fun to be around for reasons of she literally just fucking died and was kind of hoping that it would mean she didn't have to deal with any of that unresolved trauma (spoiler alert it's still there but It's Worse Now). eventually even fourteen starts avoiding her, which makes it ten times worse (turns out she's uh kinda bleeding psychically. that's what happens when two aliens rip open your memories again and again and then your best enemy forces a regeneration on you). this goes on until she snaps at rose, at which point donna sits her down in the shed and is like we're going to talk or else i will physically kick you out. an hour (and a lot of tears) later she brings fourteen in too. they end up having semi regular check in sessions after that and it really does help

-around a month in, they just Vanish and the tardis is gone too, and donna's like well they could've left a fucking note. but i get it. and then rose is like mum come look!!! and takes her into the shed, which is now bigger on the inside and has two full rooms, one with rose's workshop (now with a bunch of vintage sewing and knitting machines in) and one with the tardis and a hammock (for thirteen) and a sofa bed (for fourteen). donna's like oh you definitely should be in seperate rooms you guys are unhealthily close and they're like we can't hear you over our amazing coping methods

-yeah they're like. really codependent. they also have vastly different ways of getting comfort (fourteen needs to be touching somebody at all times, and also loves comfortable silences; thirteen needs a five foot cube of personal space and also can't stop talking ever Or Else The Thoughts Get Her) which isn't a super great way to live tbh! luckily you kinda need surgical tools to seperate donna and fourteen, and rose and thirteen can talk at each other for hours, so it kinda balances out. the fact that they physically need to interact with other people really helps dskjldsajklds

-while fourteen isn't ten, he's just like a more mature version of him, so he slots very easily back into donna and wilf (and even sylvia)'s lives. thirteen, on the other hand, is a completely new person, and does often feel a little out of place. once everyone else realises she feels like this they're like what the fuck are you talking about. you're sad and feral. that's the doctor

-they do eventually get better with uh lots of therapy and also getting desk jobs at unit (fourteen ends up more with the organisational side while thirteen is just Generally Sciencey. she has like forty experiments going at once. kate only knows about around 2/3 of them) plus the shed expands eventually and thirteen gets her own workshop and tinkering really helps calm her down. meanwhile fourteen starts getting into baking, and that helps him too. they both just really needed a breather, yknow?

[lightningidle]

Fig's line "I don't think I'm an artist, I think I'm just a good friend" has not left my head at all. Just...

You're Fig Faeth and your horns came in over the summer and you pick up the bard class as a form of adolescent rock 'n' roll rebellion, and it works! It's exactly the outlet you need! You give a guy you just met drumsticks and you start a band and it's good enough that within a year and a half you're touring. You are, in every sense, good at being a bard.

And then, finally, your junior year, you start to take it seriously. Your art goes from an outlet and a form of rebellion to a practice. A discipline. (Can rebellion exist within a discipline?) Your classmates know what they want to do with their work. They all have a thesis statement. And yeah, there's cohesion in the music you make, but you've never had to think about why you make it. You've never sat down and dissected what it is about bass that speaks to you. You've never poured over your lyrics to pick at any deeper meaning. Why should you? You don't play music for a grand design, you do it to... huh, why do you do it?

(Your art is the one form of self-expression that feels as safe as Disguise Self does, because even if you're pouring your heart onto the page and then screaming it in front of thousands of people, it's not like you're really making yourself known. You can sing I'm lonely, I'm scared, I'm furious, and your fans will sing it right back, and there will still be the distance between performer and audience to keep your heart safe.)

Now you're being asked to look inward to explain the artistic choices you're making, and you can't help but recoil at that, because you'd rather do anything than look inward. Meanwhile, your classmates have no problem with it, so you start to wonder if you're a real artist at all. Can your art be authentic if it only exists to bolster a thesis statement? Has your art been unauthentic this whole time because you've never really thought about a thesis statement before? Is that what makes it art, and not just the next track on somebody's teen angst playlist?

You can't think about yourself— acknowledging your own existence makes you want to puke. So if your music is an extension of yourself, (and it is, even if it's just because the spotlight reveals only what you want it to,) you can't think about your music. You can't. You have to. Your grade depends on it.

You're Fig Faeth, and you keep multiclassing because you'd rather be a good friend than a great artist. If introspection is what great art demands, then fuck it. You must not be a bard at all.

[sysig]

Hiya :) I've been getting into DSMP animatics, and I love seeing the different interpretations of the character designs even though I only have a vague sense of the lore so far. It's all got cool vibes!! Can I request a drawing of Ranboo or Wilbur, or maybe even both? I'm not sure if they actually ever interact in the story or not, but I'd say interpret the prompt however you want and have fun??

Day 19 - Stuck inside

[insomnya777]

espresso (the new sabrina carpenter song) is SOOOO joel smallishbeans coded

[desceros]

I feel like Donnie would be mush for his teeny, itty bitty little baby girl.

someone has been peeking in my google drive again i see....

yeah i think he (rise donnie specifically since that's the papatello i'm working on) would be one of those dads who has a big talk about how he's so strict, about the intense regiment he has his kid on to maximize their development, and he's always the most annoying piece of shit at the PTA meeting. flex brag flex brag

but then his little toddler comes up to him on wobbly legs and puts her hands on his calf, tapping at him for his attention and looks up at him with paint all over her face from where she got into the art supplies at the back of the classroom and made a huge ass mess, and he just melts at her crooked little grin (bc dad is the favorite) and is completely incapable of chastising her in any shape or form

that changes when she grows up and starts to act so much like him that he HAS to be firmer with her. the first time he has to put her in time out they both ugly cry a lot

[perelka-l]

When you both are in a shitty situation and can't even get up and are waiting for someone to arrive (whoever it is, really) and one of you has cigs and other access to fire so you just. Kinda chill for a moment. Like, it's just once, it should be fine, you can forget about it later.

[chrisbangs]

hello... (and bye ig 👋)

[the-owl-tree]

okay yeah in that case putting the infant in the poll is funny, but yeah it should have been crowfeather. idk if the poll maker just forgor or knew that a crowfeather vs brambleclaw poll matchup for most hated wc character would cause what's left of twitter to crumble, but yeah should have been crowfeather.

for whatever reason a large part of twitter is still fond of crowfeather and i got pushback from people when i said hitting your kid is Bad. trying to explain he's an abusive father is like pulling teeth on there so the radiation it would have unleashed is awful but i think crow would have lost right away and i would have gotten a sea of bad takes. bullet dodged but damage still taken.

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

maybe if i raise that flag above my head as often as i can, i'll eventually be over the rainbow too

[running-in-the-dark]

and I'm having thoughts again

so I've been watching that John Larroquette interview that I reblogged on repeat for half an hour now and I'm just. man I am so very....... okay I'm trying not to say that I'm stupid anymore but god what else is there to say. it's making me feel like my brain just turns off and all there is is static and [insert very high frequency screaming sound].

like I would love to be able to have actual thoughts about this shit but I am not. I just love love love people who think about shit and face their issues and work on getting better. and talk about it. like it's just a thing that happened. because it is. it's not 'oh you did bad shit in your past so you're fucked forever now'. it's 'bad shit happened, I did bad things, I confronted it, I made different choices' and that's it. I just. man I'm feeling really emotional and am probably gonna have a good long cry about this now.

[oseike]

Everyone talls about yjh being doomed by the narrative but if you look at it with a wider lens, the one truly doomed is kdj. He knows the one he wants to save most (yjh) can only be saved if he himself becomes that which yjh hates, a constellation. He does it, expecting yjh to turn on him in the end. Then later he realizes to fulfill a contract he must end himself, yet also he must become a prisoner; to free him is to doom everything, so he shatters himself into countless pieces so he can never be saved. He has already sacrificed himself over and over in ways both large and small; he continually lays himself upon the altar, and finally becomes beyond any reasonable reach.

It's only because yjh is entirely unreasonable and hsy is ultimately both guilty and imminently skilled that he could, eventually, be saved - even though I fully believe he didn't think it would happen.

He is the literal worst princess to save, he's actively sabotaging his own redemption

[teufelme]

You ever just want to talk about Bertl,

[helianskies]

ugly maths.

i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.

thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!

you... wanna see?

okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!

ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!

huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—

better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—

mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?

here, i can make it worse.

these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.

now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.

why ugly?

because it makes me ugly.

those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.

87, 75.

the thoughts are as follows:

• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.

• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.

• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!

okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:

that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.

4, 708.

ugly maths.

the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!

27.

mmmm.

6161, 1061.

5100.

87, 75.

12.

mmmm.

you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(

it made me :)

well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.

they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.

1.

have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?

i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.

oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.

ready?

838, 245.

(want a hint? the green numbers!)

838, 87. 245, 75.

9.6, 3.3.

ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!

the numbers make me ask new questions:

• why is it not good enough?

• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?

• is all this maths this really good for you?

no, it isn't.

i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.

ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.

ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.

i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.

[mortiferumsomnum]

the magic hour is now (you cannot slow it down)

THIS POST JUST--- I have so many feelings *sobs*

@annoyed-at-things please have his little drabble of mine. I didn’t use your whole prompt because I focused mostly on Tim (the magic hit only him), ehe~

***

Tim felt like he was floating, as if he was sinking slowly under water, drowning. He couldn’t breathe, his vision was blurry, and all sounds around him were muffled.

His limbs felt too heavy, felt too hot and cold at the same time as he reached up for--- something. someone.

He thinks he’s calling for... Damian? Is Damian around here? 

Damian, are you here? Where are you? Damian?

Warmth. There is warmth covering the hand he reached with. He could feel pressure, feel it being squeezed. It felt nice. Comforting. If this is how warm Damian’s hands were, Damian should hold hands with people more often.

He closes his eyes. The muffled sounds around him grew louder, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to open them anymore. He felt comforted and safe. He felt warm and sleepy. 

Soon, Tim felt nothing.

***

Damian had attended many funerals in his life. However, he was used to bodies being cremated and stored in urns before being buried in the dirt. It was interesting looking at a coffin. The last time he’s seen one was when his father was temporarily dead. 

However, compared to that experience where he felt only a small sense of remorse and indifference, seeing Timothy in a coffin had hit different.

Timothy is usually pale, even as he goes out to spend time with Conner or his love Bernard. Now, where Timothy lay, he looked paler. The make-up fails to hide the bluish tint of his lips and around his cheeks. 

Damian looks away from the smile that never left Timothy’s face as he... passed. He already knew what it looks like, even if his memory of his smile had blood coating Timothy’s face as he squeezed Damian’s hand back, whispering about how Damian was... warm. 

He couldn’t believe Timothy thought he was, because Damian felt ice-cold as he held his hand and demanded that he stayed awake. His whole body felt frozen stiff as he watched Jon keep pressure on Timothy’s wounds. But Timothy had--

He had too many deep scars. Scars that Damian didn’t know existed.

The scar on Timothy’s neck hadn’t really healed, covered by plaster. Even as Timothy laid in his coffin, there was plaster covering his neck. There were more on his body, but deeper on his abdomen. Blood was gushing from two vital places, and Damian and Jon tried their best to staunch the bleeding while waiting for help, for Batman, to arrive.

The magician that casted the spell

Timothy wasn’t even calling for Batman. He sent a signal, yes. But he wasn’t calling for Batman.

Dami’n, ‘re you... ‘ere?

Someone was hugging Damian now, but Damian didn’t care. His body still felt cold despite the arm tugging him close to someone’s chest. There was a deep scent of sweat, hay and lavender - Richard. Timothy had always said that he never stopped smelling like a circus, trying to cover it up with some cologne that Barbara got him.

He was brought to sit down, far away from where he could see Timothy’s face. Not that he could see him anymore, Jason was now standing where Damian was, peering over Timothy with a blank face and a white-knuckle grip on his coffin.

He wondered what Jason might be thinking, if he was remembering the moments before he died. Timothy said that Jason died trying to call for Batman, trying to escape only to accept that he wouldn’t be making it out alive.

Timothy didn’t call for Batman. He didn’t even look like he knew he was dying.

Wh’re ‘re you?

“Are you okay, Damian?”

Was he okay? Richard’s soft voice called for him once again, but Damian couldn’t bare to look up to his eldest brother, his father figure and mentor. Damian found it slightly hilarious that Richard was comforting him right now when he knew that out of all the brothers, Richard must be feeling the most guilt. He was not there when Jason died, and he was not there when Timothy died.

Damian only relaxed into Richard’s chest, burying his face into his clothes.

...Damian?

“I was there,” he whispered. He felt a hand stop rubbing his back. He didn’t even know when that started, but the hand stayed paused in the middle.

“I... Jon and I... we tried stopping the bleeding...”

Damian’s whole body was back to being cold, and the warm hand felt scorching where it laid. “But Timothy was calling for me and...”

He looked at his hands. They were no longer red. They were cleaned of blood, but the warm and wet feeling still felt fresh in his mind.

“He said I was warm.” Warm like his blood-soaked fingers, like the blood pooling out of Timothy’s body nonstop. “I held his hand and he said I was warm.”

He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t.

But he knew Richard was, from the way he seemed to be heaving and clutching Damian tighter.

“Did he call for anyone?” Richard asked. 

Damian nodded, breath hitching and finally acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was crying.

“He called for me,” he said.

Richard kissed his head. “And you were there.”

Damian nodded. “I was there.”

[gojoest]

hii do you see gojo as a golden retriever boyfriend? and do you think he would be with a feisty/grumpy gf and what that would be like?

yes yes yes!!! he's so golden retriever bf coded so clingy so full of love and so pouty when he's got to be away from his partner~ he'd have so much fun with a fiesty/grumpy s/o i like to think but the question is if they can handle him bc, as we all know, gojo is a notorious menace and will push their buttons to earn a flustered reaction any given day (finds it cute) 😩 why is this so gojohime tho ksjdh anyway!

will use a reference from another anime bc it's literally gojo and fits this dynamic so well 💀

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

i hope yer happy with yourself YURI CAUSE CROSS HERE MUSTVE HAD HER SPEAR AND STABBED MY HEART AND THEN PULLED IT OUT TO KEEP IN HER TROPHY ROOM OF HEARTS SHE HAD STOLEN /LHJ

overall, tiddies rating 10/10

DAMN ten outta ten??? she wouldn't know what to do with all this flattery dude cmoon HHGFSHGF fr fr waaa thank youuuu >:'D <333333