If the world ever leaves you feeling hopeless, remember that Star Trek was cancelled twice and deemed an utter failure; then rose from the ashes to become the flagship for all of science fiction, spawning six spin-offs, fourteen movies, and enough novels to keep the fires burning through the Long Night. Oh, and inspired new technology, popularized fan fiction, created slash, forged the foundation for modern fan culture, and pushed young people to the sciences. A show that was fucking cancelled. CANCELLED!
So. When it gets bad out there, just… be Star Trek.
i just want to say to fic readers that big long rambly comments on fics, where you say the things you loved about it and sometimes get capslocky and squeal and use exclamation points and quote parts and praise the smut or the characterizations or the world building or the chemistry or all of the above, comments like that are fucking incredible and every fic author loves you, thank you
mornings after are always tough for robert, especially when he drank from pure depression until he was incoherent the night before. he usually has to deal with a serious hangover coupled with the leftover feelings that he was trying to escape from last night.
somehow he always finds himself wandering into the Coffee Spoon the next morning. the caffeine from his usual pure black coffee helps but what he found that helps even more is the barista’s warm, tender smile when he enters the shop.
mat always gave off a positive energy that attracted robert to the coffee shop more than the coffee ever could. it leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy and… soothed. he almost feels himself addicted to mat’s good vibes, an addiction that makes him feel much better than his…other one.
mat can usually pick up on robert’s serious hangovers & sad moods and won’t hesitate to give him baked goods on the house as well as some TLC. they both enjoy talking about old rock bands, movie references, good music, and the like. they actually found that they had a lot more in common than they originally thought.
the Coffee Spoon slowly became one of robert’s favorite places
I hate the “get out of your comfort
zone” sentiment because firstly fuck you for assuming everyone has a
comfort zone, it’s an idea created in comfortable and privileged environment
and cannot apply to survival type lives, I am trying to keep myself in the zone
of “discomfort I can survive” and only other zone I can go to is “discomfort
that will make me suicidal in 10 seconds or less” and i’m not risking my
life for that shit, secondly it’s implying that already overwhelmed people
don’t have the right to feel comfortable, and if they work towards feeling
comfortable they’re doing the wrong thing, and it’s been enough of that, all of
you, every person on this planet has the right to feel comfortable, and should
work towards that first, and god knows if i ever find a place i feel
comfortable in i will never ever leave
So yall know how all of the Wynonna Earp episodes have been named after country songs, right?
Tonight’s finale was titled “I Hope You Dance” which is a song by Lee Ann Womack.
Here’s a snippet of the lyrics:
“I hope you never lose your sense of wonder You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger May you never take one single breath for granted God forbid love ever leave you empty handed I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance I hope you dance”
These are Wynonna’s wishes for the child she had to give up.
The world is so convinced it knows what love is. I thought I had it defined when I was 14. But f*ck, I probably can’t even say I know what love is now. Even though in reflection I can safely say I never experienced true love in my youth, I sure as hell experienced my fair share of heartbreak. The kind that left me with permanent scars. I’ve learnt that for a while you’re gonna feel like they’ll leave permanent scars over every new relationship you ever have, until you meet the one that fills you with the kind of joy that makes even those scars look like they’re sprouting roses.
If my heart is in it, it’s impossible for me to leave. That goes for relationships, friendships, business or just life in general. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m controlled by my heart. However as soon as my heart feels unappreciated, she stops. And I leave. As if nothing ever occurred here..
Prompt: Prompt if its alright-Lance with narcolepsy?- anon
I had so much fun writing this, so thanks so much for the prompt! This is a one-shot, and even though the ask didn’t specifically ask for klance… it ended up in here because, as I’ve said before, I have no self control. It took a bit of an unexpected turn, but hopefully the anon likes it? And other people do? As always, feedback is appreciated!
Lance’s entire life was full to the
brim with close calls.
Granted, fighting a war against a
corrupt alien empire will have its share of near-death experiences.
But, oddly enough, another type of close call worried him more.
Lance didn’t particularly want to die
if he could avoid it, but he’d honestly prefer that to his teammates
And he knew there was a chance
they wouldn’t judge him for it, wouldn’t think it made him less of a
paladin. After all, Hunk didn’t care in the slightest. But there was
always the chance that they would.
Lance had always prided himself on
being able to hide things. And it was even easier to hide things from
the team than his enormous, nosy family.
His ideas, insecurities, homesickness,
bisexuality… he’d learned to bury these things deep down inside
himself and try to ignore them.
“If you ship Jon/Dany but you don’t like Cersei/Jaime then you’re a hypocrite!”
Well I mean, there is a massive difference between twin siblings starting to sexually experiment with each other at a young age and an aunt and nephew who met as adults and don’t even know they’re related at the start of their relationship.
Disregarding the whole twin thing, I never liked Cersei/Jaime simply because of how toxic it was. It was riddled with secrecy, adultery on Cersei’s end, passing off unrightful children as kings, emotional manipulation, and generally just tearing both Cersei and Jaime down, but especially Jaime.
At this point I honestly couldn’t care less about them being twins– I’ve been desensitized to that about three seasons ago. I hate and I’m tired of this pairing because it’s been ruining Jaime as a person for years and his character development is long overdue.
The two couples shouldn’t even be compared. The only similarity they share is that there are blood ties between the characters, and again I feel like there is a huge moral difference between twins that grew up together and two unknowing relatives meeting as adults.
The lights are off, but the other side of the bed is cold, covers thrown back haphazardly. Jack searches through the dark for the neon light of their clock, reading 4:16 am.
He listens to the silence, the eventual ringing of it filling his ears. Just as he starts drifting back to sleep, there’s another thump, this time followed by the sound of a door slamming. In an instant Jack’s up, adrenaline rushing through his veins. As he feels his way down the hallway, he can’t help but think of the worst, of Bitty missing, of an intruder sneaking in and hurting him, killing him–
It’s not until he turns the corner to his kitchen that he sees it.
And by it, he means Bitty, leaning over the counter in the dark and putting the finishing touches on what has to be the tallest cake Jack has ever seen. Jack feels the tension leave his body. This, he can handle. There are smears of flour across Bitty’s chest, and he’s wearing nothing but Jack’s too-big sweats, hung low on his hips, and he’s safe.
Jack watches from the hallway silently as Bitty reaches into the drawer and pulls out candles and a lighter. He places each one on with care, 36 simple white sticks. Bitty lights them all one by one, slow and deliberate. Jack’s not exactly sure what’s happening, but this isn’t the first time he’s gotten up in the middle of the night to find Bitty mass-producing baked goods.
Bitty takes a step back, hands on his hips. Jack barely catches the exhausted “Finally,” that escapes his lips. He looks… relieved. Peaceful.
“Happy Birthday, Ms. Beyoncé Giselle Knowles,” Bitty sighs before closing his eyes and blowing out the candles all in one breath.