#getting back up

[madamegixxysticks]

Imagine building the perfect cage.... ... Only to find that you're trapped in it with me.

............................................ OOOOH boy I got back in the kitchen with this one! A valiant comeback and... Pardon my french but a few cans of WHOOPASS is in order for that shadowy lagomorph he's got TRAPPED.

[crmsnmth]

Lyrics to a Song Never Written (Face the Storm)

You've got to face the storm when the rain comes down in sheets Face the storm When lightning strikes at your feet Face the storm Your stronger than that thunder Face the storm You're a goddam wonder

You've got to face the storm Don't show a single sign of weakness Face the storm and it will leave you breathless Face the storm There is beauty in the chaos Face the storm Take back your life and be your own boss

You've got to face the storm Don't look away when things get intense Face the storm We'll sell stolen goods to the local fensce Face the storm Those clouds rolling in are so black Face the storm Life's a battle so be prepared to attack

And the rain will wash this all away We'll finally stop smelling so bad Don't worry about tomorrow, focus on today Run out the door with everything you have

You've got to face the storm Keep your feet planted agaisnt the wind Face the storm Forgive me father, foer I have sinned Face the storm We're getting close to the end Face the storm And then we do it all over again

Face the storm Face the storm Face the storm

[mundrops]

healing is a funny feeling.

i feel stuck. but also i’ve come so far. but also i feel like nothing makes sense. but also i’m so much better. but also everything hurts. but also it doesn’t hurt as much as before.

i’m okay, but also i’m very scared. but maybe that’s okay too.

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 491

When I decided to take up journaling as a way to gather my thoughts and pull myself together, I didn’t consider how that routine would be affected by being sick. It’s actually a bit demotivating to see where the blanks in my journal are until I remember that I had been sick (and still am a bit sick).

So yesterday I had forced myself to set up for this coming week. This included putting down at least a few chores to do. Doing that yesterday allowed me today to work on putting more stickers in my sticker book. I’m happy to say I got all my daily bear stickers into the sticker book which means it freed up a storage box for me to use for other things.

It also means I can start thinking more seriously about the start of my new journal. The notebook I’m going to be using actually came in a few days ago but I was so miserable I couldn’t be excited about it. I still have Christmas things to do this coming week, but hopefully I’ll be well enough to finish it.

Still a bit tired from being sick, but here’s hoping to a better week.

[filmcourage]

Confidence Is Knowing You Already Did It And You Can Do It Again - Jason Park via FilmCourage.com.

[were-my-demons-hide]

Skate progress #3

I did Ollies while moving forward again! This time I felt much more confident :) 3-5 of them felt pretty good!

I also worked on my fakie shovits! I see progress! It really motivates me. ♡

I fell. It hurt. I got back up. I am okey. This was an important one for me.

Keep pushing♡

[eliotandquentinsittinginatree]

Getting back up

*Quick notes: This is in no way, shape or form related or compliant to season 5. Because I have not and will not watch season 5. You cannot take away my favorite character and destroy my favorite ship with it, and then expect me to keep watching your show, you meanie showrunners.*

This might be something that I will occasionally work on. It’s all thought out and finished in my head, so the only question is how well I will be able to put it into words. This is pretty much a teaser chapter, which I will expand on at a later date, when I have more time. English is not my first language, and I am not as eloquent or articulate as so many of the other talented writer I have had the pleasure to discover in this fandom. Alas, the plot bunny has gotten lost in my head, and now I have to write this thing out. I sincerely do hope that someone might find some enjoyment out of this fic, when it’s finished, but I caution anyone to not expect too much. It will likely be very slow going, and not as well written as it could be. :-)

It’s also entirely self-indulgent. I don’t want Quentin to stay dead. I want Queliot to happen. I want these people to all be actual friends who love and trust each other. So these are all things that I will be working towards, even though it might not always correspond well with the canon that has been established in the four seasons leading up to Quentin’s death.

Summary/teaser:

“Did I do something really brave to save my friends, or did I finally find a way to kill myself?”

- As Quentin gets the answer to this last important question, he also learns that his friends are still in need of saving.

Funnily enough, even though Quentin had spent literal years worth of time thinking about death (most specifically his own), he had never really pictured his funeral.

And, well, technically this might not qualify as a funeral, Quentin thought as he watched his friends sing and feed simple but significant trinkets into the fire, it was indubitably more beautiful than anything his broken brain could have ever cooked up.

Dean Fogg’s presence had surprised him a little, to be perfectly honest, but he certainly appreciated it.

Penny had taken him to Fillory first, where Josh and Fen had set up a memorial feast in his honor.

In memory of King Quentin Coldwater, savior of Fillory, magic, and the world.

Quentin felt unworthy of the title. After all, he hadn’t ever really handled any kingly duties the way Margo and Eliot had, and he hadn’t been the only one fighting to save all those things they were celebrating him for. But non the less, seeing as a whole kingdom raised their (metaphorical) glasses to him, as well as Josh and Fen’s honest tears, had filled his heart with warmth.

Then getting back to earth, watching the people he had come to love in each of their own specific ways, watching as Eliot and Margo had made their way into the circle, and god ELIOT! The tall man was leaning on Margo heavily, stumbling ever so slightly, face pale, clearly still hurt, still healing.

But in this very moment, he was the most beautiful being Quentin had ever seen. Alive.

Eliot was alive. They had done it. It had all been worth it.

Eliot was alive.

Thank god

Thank god

Thank god

Eliot was alive and on his feet. Quentin was unashamed of the tears that streamed down his face.

Margo, Alice, Julia, Penny23, Kady, Josh, Fen. They were okay. Sad, sure. Grieving, crying, for him, and this was still a concept that was somehow so hard for him to grasp, yet filled his heart with so much affection for each and every one of them.

But they were alive and whole and in time, they would heal.

He felt at peace.

“They are gonna be okay, right?”

The question was more of an after thought, murmured in Penny’s direction. And Quentin fully expected Penny to smile in that soft, knowing way of his (which was still so new and strange to Quentin, but somehow, fit the other man perfectly), and tell him not to worry, that their friends would be just fine.

But when no answer came forth, Quentin forced his eyes away from the group sitting around the fire to look back at his friend, and found an expression he had trouble deciphering.

“I was really hoping you wouldn’t ask me this, Q.”

The shock of those words, as well as the use of that nickname (Penny had changed so much. And the weirdest part of that was how Quentin still thought of him as the same person. As part of the team. Always one of them), made him turn around fully. 

“What do you mean? They.. they will be alright, right?” Anxiety was building up. “We. - We got the monsters out. Julia and El- Eliot, they are .. we saved them. We did it! Everett is gone, and, and you said the library is in better hands now! Magic will return back to the way it was. Why-” He had to pause to get rid of the lump that was forming in his throat, threatening to strangle him. The song behind him was coming to an end and he turned his head to cast another look at his friends. They were fine. They were fine and alive and they were together! (Well, Josh was missing, but they had an easy way back to Fillory, and he knew, he knew they wouldn’t abandon each other)  He watched as Eliot and Margo leaned into each other, both crying silently as they watched the flames consume the peach and blacken the crown. They were fine. They were alive. They were fine!

“- why wouldn’t they be okay?”

He was looking at Penny with what he hoped was conviction, but felt more like desperation. His words had been meant to come out strong, but had likely been a plea. 

And Penny.., Penny looked like he wanted to fold his body into itself, while also trying to scrape together the words needed to talk someone away for the ledge. Quentin knew what that looked like. Because he had been in both positions. Been the one trying to talk someone down, and been the one who was being talked down. Right now, he felt like he was there again, looking down at the ground from high above, but he didn’t know if he was the one who wanted to jump, or the one who wanted to save the jumper.

“Quentin, look, I.. I literally can’t lie to you about this, but I really, really want to. Because this is not on you. This is not your responsibility. But if I answer your question, I know that you will take it as such.”

Penny took a step closer to him, settling his hands steadily on his shoulders, squeezing tightly, and looking directly into the smaller man’s eyes.

“I want you to listen to me closely. You have done and sacrificed enough. For the last three years, you have been running yourself into the ground, putting out fires, while ever more kept getting started. And I know you blame yourself for most of those as well, but I’m telling you right now, it wasn’t your fault. What happened to the others, what happened to me, what happened to the world as a whole. That wasn’t your fault, man. You just died, saving the people you love. There is a ticket in my pocket for you. That will take your soul to be reborn. All the pain, all the drama and tragedy, all that will be gone. It will be a good life, Quentin. A peaceful one. No apocalypses, no self serving gods or monsters. No more broken brain. You will be happy, Q. You deserve this. So please, don’t make me answer that question.”

Penny looked at him so earnestly, beseechingly. And Quentin felt bad about not being able to follow his request.

“Why won’t they be okay, Penny? ... Please.”

The other man closed his eyes, a sigh full of sorrow and regret leaving his lips, and squeezed the deceptively frail looking shoulders again, as if in apology.

“Is the thought that losing you is something they won’t get over, really so far out of your grasp?”

The answer to that was clearly obvious in the wide, uncomprehending eyes of the shorter man before him.

“...What?”