i spent half an hour on this edit. send help

rose tyler hated her shitty job, wore £1 mascara, charity shop sweatpants, boxed hair bleach, couldn't keep her room clean, hated rich people, was called a slag by the queen, constantly chat shit about her mum, slapped a guy that made her mum cry, astonished herself when she could do maths, 19 year old runaway, and the most beautiful woman on my tv 2005 - 2006

The ninth doctor was so insane fr he was like I watched my planet get destroyed and I can't share this trauma with anyone. I will fix this by befriending a human girl and taking her to see her planet get destroyed. This is normal behaviour.

AND DAN AND PHIL ARE BACK???

I started this year making a meme about John Green being back and I thought that would be the wildest thing to happen this year... Clearly I was wrong. I feel like the universe is just confused about what year it is... I'm in my mid 20s now and I don't need to be going through this again.

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

when the batboys get broken bones or other things that can't be fixed in the batcave, and have to go to an actual hospital, they make up the most outlandish sounding excuses for their injuries:

dick (with a broken leg): "well you see, i was actually trying to jump over a river on a pair of rollerskates"

jason (with broken ribs): "i was volunteering at the zoo... feeding the alligators. i fell backwards with the meat in my hands, and one pounced on me. funny how much damage they can do."

tim (with the worst concussion man has ever seen): "oh that? i was walking outside.. and my brothers were playing basketball on the top floor of the house, and one of them accidentally threw the ball out the window, and it landed on my head"

(bruce hears that one and has to reconsider whether or not the version of the story tim told him (getting hit by condiment king's mustard launcher) was the truth or not)

damian (with fingers twisted in every direction): "i play the piano... very violently"

one of my favorite feelings is starting a new show and having that: ….are they…having gay… sexual tension?? And then logging onto tumblr dot com and seeing gifsets that show several thousand other people also agree that it was, indeed, gay sexual tension

Not-Donna: I see into your soul. I know everything about you. I understand what you’ve been through. And I am going to use it against you and take over your universe.

Not-Doctor: [crawling upside down] donna donna donna donna donna donna donna

Thinking about how Doctor Who took the comforting sentiment that is "you are not alone" and turned it into a threat.

HAPPY 14TH ANNIVERSARY AO3!!!!!!

this scene. this fucking scene. when i watched this the first time it really struck me how much 14 has grown. 10 wouldn’t have let that argument go. they would’ve kept pushing buttons until one of them stormed off. but 14 stops, cuts himself off mid-sentence and walks away to take a breath.

“no,” he says. no we’re not doing this. no it’s not my fault. no it’s not your fault. it’s a shitty situation and they’re both stressed and afraid.

and then he apologizes even though he didn’t start the argument and he didn’t spill the coffee. and it was definitely donna’s fault but sometimes being best friends means you let things go and you lie a little because your friendship is more important than being right

AND THEN HE COMFORTS HER. without her asking and without her initiating it.

I'd love it, if you came with me

fourteen: he was hot, wasn’t he?

jack harkness, waking up in the middle of the night with his gaydar going off:

The Church on Ruby Road // The Snowmen

15: when i was a girl--

ruby: *has seen him in his club outfit & also very genuinely insist he would love to be named lulubelle* oh i thought it was gonna be the other way around

not!donna saying, "i've had fifteen years without you and i saw everything that happened to you and oh my god it hurt" and "it's not your fault" about the flux and the doctor falling for it only to be mocked and laughed at by the thing pretending to be his best friend... russel t davies i am going to fucking GET you