Seriously. I mean it. Because inevitably you will love something that no one else loves. Or you will love something that everyone loves and people will shit all over it because it’s “so trite and unimaginative and done.” Or you will love something that no one else has ever heard of. Or you will love something dark and edgy and or obscure and people will roll their eyes and say, “What, do you want people to think you’re dark and edgy and obscure?”
Alternatively, you will not love the thing that everyone else loves, and you will wonder what precisely is wrong with you that the sight of that thing is aggravating the shit out of you now when the whole world sings its praises as one.
People will irritate you. They’ll irritate you with headcanons that make no sense and misinterpretations of canon. They will make the same jokes 500 times. They will overwhelm your corner of fandom with something you either are tired of hearing about or don’t care about. They will post art that isn’t theirs. You will meet people who think you are the greatest person ever and bombard you with messages only to wander off when they find someone new or shinier; you will meet people whom you admire and who do not really seem to notice you exist.
So give zero fucks about it. Seriously. Like what you like, blacklist what you need to blacklist, and ignore everything else. Be friends, play nice, enjoy it. And in the meantime, just do you. Like what you like, love what you love, and to hell with all the rest of it.
RE: the ask about Hillary lying "as often as Trump": that is demonstrably untrue. Politifact's data shows that of these two candidates, she has lied significantly fewer times than Trump. She even has a better score than Bernie on completely true statements. I know it feels like she's smarmy, sly, and up to no good. Those perceptions have followed her throughout the entirety of her career, but they are feelings, not facts. That's not to say she's completely honest, but no politician can ever be.
You’re correct, and here’s the Politifact data to back it up:
I think the two bits that are vital are Pants on Fire (Clinton 4%, Trump 36%) and True (Clinton 53%, Trump 8%).
This is just data, and it clearly shows that Donald Trump is a liar.
I realize that a lot of Trump partisans and Never Clintons will ignore this, or find some way to believe that Politifact isn’t a totally non-partisan and purely fact-checking organization.
But those of us who live in the real world can look at these two charts and see, without any question, that Trump is a liar. There is just no equivalence between the two of them.
if you’re looking for a character with a redemption arc why would you ever ever ever even consider severus snape when you have regulus black right there
BERNIE SANDERS IS OFFICIALLY OUT OF THE RACE HE IS NO LONGER A CANDIDATE - HE DOES NOT WANT YOUR VOTE. HE WANTS US TO VOTE HILLARY TO DETRUMP THE TRUMP - GET YOUR BERNIE OR BUST RHETORIC AWAY. CLEAR IT FROM YOUR MINDS. VOTE HILLARY. GIVE HER ANY NUMBER BOOSTS YOU CAN. I DON’T CARE. USE YOUR FUCKING BRAINS. PLEASE.
Ok, but also, do people not realize how much bernie accomplished despite not getting the nomination???? In the end, Bernie did what he wanted to do all along. He shook up the DNC despite their plays against him. He got the Democratic party to adopt THE most progressive platform in HISTORY!!! He made people stop and think and adopt and protest and force the Democrats to notice; he changed the game. He’s already made a huge impact. I would’ve loved him to receive the nomination, but we have to face the reality. If you write him in, or don’t even fucking vote, Donald Trump, the farthest thing from what Sanders believes in, will win because you’ll split the democratic vote. So if you’re a die hard Bernie supporter like you say you are, don’t throw away the work he has done. Don’t throw away his success. Vote Clinton.
Of mice and men. I will always hate Of Mice and Men.
always
The Catcher In The Rye most trash book ever
^yeah, gatsby was terrible too tho
I liked gatsby because the narrator thought everything that happened was bullshit too. I HATED catcher in the rye though.
All of the books listed here I hated with a passion, but none more so than The Catcher in the Rye. GOD.
I had to force myself to read that shit. Anything by Steinbeck is a basically a sleeping pill.
The Scarlet Letter. I never even read Gatsby, still not sure how I passed that section tbh.
The Awakening. How did my eyes not roll right out of my skull while my ever-so-earnest English teacher rhapsodized for two weeks on Kate Chopin?
There is a burning hatred in my heart for anything Hemingway.
Does not help that my professor last year spent two months with the old fart’s metaphorical balls slapping against his chin.
THE AWAKENING My english teacher went on about what a feminist piece it was and how well written it was and it really just made me want to stab myself in the eye because it was neither of those things
The Awakening and Grapes of Wrath
G o d i hated grapes of wrath I don’t think I finished it
GRAPES OF GODDAMN WRATH.
Oh God did anyone else have to read You Can’t Go Home Again? It was WORSE. 700 pages of inane and plotless rambling. Fucking murderous.
I dont know how you feel about it but I am sooo excited for Suicide Squad like... I am dressing up as Harley and everything. I just needed a fangirl momentđ¤đ¤
Babe, I’ll admit that I’m more of a Marvel girl at heart (the X-Men were my FIRST LOVE okay, I was seven, I’m Committed), but I’m pretty excited too. I was apathetic at best and then I watched a trailer with Harley Quinn in it and like. Let me tell you a thing. I’ve watched worse movies for the sake of one snarky badass female character.
And that scene in the trailer where everyone’s ordering drinks and the one guy just goes “Water” and Harley points at him and say “That’s a good idea, honey” just??? Makes me so happy for some reason????
So YEAH the tl;dr of this is that I’m gonna watch the FUCK out of this movie for Deadshot being deadpan (*snicker* I’m hilarious) and Harley being Harley.
No, but seriously, Scotty and Keenser are going to be such proud uncles to Jaylah as she rips her way through the Engineering track at Starfleet Academy
psa if you ever meet me in real life I am really sorry for how much I swear like it’s really not a joke I have a mouth on me like a fuckin sailor and I can usually turn it off around adults but if you’re under thirty five I will likely throw one ‘fuck’ in for every three words that leave my mouth it’s shocking
the canon OT3 we’re not being coy like in the Rundown Job job
the one-off not quite canon within the story supernatural/fantasy elements job
the fake a cryptid (either bigfoot or el chupacabra) job
the circus job (I really want to see Parker the acrobat)
the explain how their clients even find them job. Like seriously do they advertise??? How does this work???
Hardison’s Nana comes to them because some fake debt-collection agency is hounding her for bills she already paid (or rather, that Hardison paid, via the Bank of Iceland). She is played by Nichelle Nichols. There is at least one Star Trek reference.
YES I need this like breathing. Nichelle Nichols is Nana now. Nobody can convince me otherwise.
And the circus job! No one can tell me that the entire crew wouldn’t get in on the circus job and be really into it.
Parker as an acrobat trying to get used to the idea that people are supposed to see her when she’s performing, and then getting into it and loving the applause when she does something extra fancy and death-defying with her ropes.
Eliot randomly is an expert at fire-juggling, because of course he is. He performs shirtless. The crowd goes wild. Never has there been so much thirst in a single room.
Sophie as the fortune teller. Sophie as the fortune teller who’s way too good at her job and has to tone it down a little bit because she’s freaking people out. She also does the knife-throwing act with Eliot, posing beautifully while he throws knives around her. She knows he’ll never miss.
Nate, of course, is the barker. “Step right up, step right up. See the beautiful, the death-defying…”
Meanwhile Hardison is behind the scenes bringing the technology into the 21st century. The light show to go along with the choreography has never been more beautiful, the sound system has never been so good, and the rigging has never been more safe. Also there are bugs everywhere so he can listen in and catch the bad guy, but that’s almost secondary.
In the end Eliot gets to fight the circus strong man, Sophi out-cons the bad guy, and the plan comes together like puzzle pieces falling into place right at the end so you can hardly believe it worked. Just like a good performance should.
They give the circus back to its tearfully grateful original owner and drive off into the sunset–ready to con another day.
me: i feel awful in so many different ways. I have no idea how I’m supposed to cope and process everything that’s happening. me: turns to my ocs my ocs: sweats me: jaws theme
When I was 17 my appendix ruptured because I thought I was just having period cramps and didn’t go to the hospital so don’t tell me PMS symptoms are no big deal
this actually happened to me during my math final and i didn’t think anything of it and when i was later admitted to the hospital my math prof was asking me ‘you didn’t have to take the final! why didn’t you tell me it hurt?!?!’ and i told him i’ve had cramps worse.
he gave me 100
This is actually an extremely common occurrence simply because in sex ed they don’t teach you how to tell the difference between menstrual cramps and other more serious pains. The way to tell the difference between cramps and appendicitis is that while menstrual cramps are generalized toward the middle of the stomach below the belly button, pain from a swollen or burst appendix will start in the middle of the stomach and relocate to only the lower right side, even lower than menstrual cramps, and is a very localized pain. It also comes on extremely suddenly and will worsen over time or when you make a sudden movement, like a cough or a sneeze.
Basically, if you’re feeling any sort of pain, even if it’s menstrual cramps, don’t hesitate to tell the school nurse or a parent, or if you’re out of school and home even make a doctor’s appointment. Chances are if your cramps are that bad there’s something they can do to improve that as well.
I am boosting the shit out of that reply, because I am twenty-fucking-five years old and did not know how to tell the two pains apart
Adding another diagnostic tool! This is something we use in the ER called the rebound test. Basically, appendicitis and cramps react differently to certain things. If you’re still not sure if you have cramps or appendicitis, take two fingers and press them into your abdomen where the pain is (try repeating this on the lower right quadrant of the abdomen just to be sure.)
When you press in firmly, it will probably hurt. Here’s the test: LET GO. Does it get better or get worse? Appendicitis will immediately hurt worse when you let go. Cramps will not. Go to the ER if the rebound test makes it worse!
THE REBOUND TEST IS REALLY IMPORTANT.
My husband got sent home from the ER with a rupturing appendix. When he came back and was rushed into surgery, the surgeon was super angry – “Why didn’t anyone do the rebound test?!”
there was a post about musical star trek where spock is the one guy who doesn’t understand how everyone is singing and harmonizing but i say no
bones as the one guy who doesn’t understand why everyone is singing and what the hell is this choreography. because i want you to imagine this. bones getting very confused and going to ask spock what the hell is going on and spock turns around and starts singing too
What's your favourite book/author, and what's your dream job?
Okay, so, for favorite book, I’d say that The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley (pitch here, for her other stuff here), the Kencyrath series by PC Hodgell (pitch here), and Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (I haven’t done a rec for that one, but hit me up if you’re curious) are all strong contenders. Aaaaand those people would be my go-to’s for favorite authors too…although I’m sure that in a few minutes I’ll come up with half a dozen other things I should have put down.
For my dream job, I would ideally like to work as a doctor in an ER at a Trauma One hospital and write novels in my free time. Adler wants me to quit everything and write full time, but I get weird after a solid day of writing, I don’t want to know what I’d be like after multiple months.
People canât anticipate how much theyâll miss the natural world until they are deprived of it.
I have read about submarine crewmen who haunt the sonar room, listening to whale songs and colonies of snapping shrimp. Submarine captains dispense âperiscope libertyâ - a chance to gaze at clouds and birds and coastlines - and remind themselves that the natural world still exists. I once met a man who told me that after landing in Christchurch, New Zealand, after a winter at the South Pole research station, he and his companions spent a couple of days just wandering around staring in awe at flowers and trees. At one point, one of them spotted a woman pushing a stroller. âA baby!â he shouted, and they all rushed across the street to see. The woman turned the stroller and ran.
Nothing tops space as a barren, unnatural environment. Astronauts who had no prior interest in gardening spend hours tending experimental greenhouses. âThey are our love,â said cosmonaut Vladislav Volkov of the tiny flax plants - with which they shared the confines of Salyut 1, the first Soviet space station. At least in orbit, you can look out the window and see the natural world below.
On a Mars mission, once astronauts lose sight of Earth, theyâll be nothing to see outside the window. âYouâll be bathed in permanent sunlight, so you wonât eve see any stars,â astronaut Andy Thomas explained to me.
does anyone else secretly have that “i liked it before it was cool” complex but wont admit it
it’s more along the lines of “you guys were fucking making fun of me for liking this before it was cool” kinda complex
Also a “I super excitedly tried to show this to you years ago and you brushed it off and now you think you introduced it to me and that is infuriating” kinda complex
A week ago I sent you an ask really freaking out about college and your advice really helped me. I just want to say thank you so much. I still have 2 days until I leave but I am not as freaked out anymore. I do have another question though. Is there anything that I would need to bring that people don't normally think about? I don't want to get there and find out I have the wrong stuff.
Hey, babe, I’m so glad my advice was helpful! Hm, stuff to bring to college that people don’t normally think of…let’s see…
First aid kit. It might seem obvious, but it’s not. Even if it’s just a box or two of bandaids, some rubbing alcohol, a bottle of Advil/Tylenol, and some Neosporin. It’ll make you popular, and it’ll come in handy.
Small sewing kit. Even if you can barely sew a button. Thread and needle come in handy more often than you’d think, ditto safety pins and scissors. You should be able to buy one at any reasonably large craft store.
Your favorite kid’s show/movie and a way to watch it. I’ve watched more Disney in the last few years than…ever, maybe. And I got Liberty’s Kids this summer and I’m gonna watch the fuck out of it this year while I write my thesis. Seriously. Your serious, dark TV shows are great and I love them, too, but when you inevitably have a really awful day, a light, familiar, comforting kid’s show or movie is the way to go. TRUST ME ON THIS.
At least one book you really love. I brought a whole crate of books, including the entire Harry Potter series, my first semester. I didn’t read half of them, but I have no regrets. It was soothing to be able to see them there, you know? Something that was mine.
I suggested this before, but some kind of comfort item? I have a few stuffed animals that always come to college with me, a favorite blanket, that sort of thing. Tell anyone who questions you to fuck right on off.
Bring backups. If you wear glasses, bring an extra pair (try Zenni.com if you don’t have the money to drop on an extra pair of store-bought glasses). Bring an extra phone charger. Bring extra headphones. Bring extra everything.
SNACKS BUY FRIENDS. Bring some chocolate, bring some cookies, whatever you can get your hands on. It’s easy to buy the love of a college student with junk food.
On a related note, maybe have some foodstuffs in your room for when you decide that you just cannot with the dining hall anymore. Everyone reaches that point eventually, even if it’s just because you’ve had a long-as-fuck day and people seem too intimidating.
On ANOTHER related note, if you drink caffeine, find a source that works. Coffee, energy drinks, tea, those little MIO things. It helps to know where you’re getting that boost. And remember, kiddo: caffeine OD’s are a thing, and I will be disappointed in you if you drink twelve espressos in a day and have a heart attack.
Last but not least, something to cover the walls. I said it before, I’ll say it again. College dorms are basically prison cells before you put shit in them. Posters, sticky notes with quotes you like, pictures, whatever. I make signs with quotes and sketches and Organic Chemistry stuff. Adler has a postcard collage. ANYTHING. Blank white cinderblock walls are depressing.
D’you guys think that anytime someone questions anything about Sulu’s flying capabilities he has a split second where everything goes red and the disembodied haunting voice of Christopher Pike comes drifting out of the fog to say, “Is the parking brake on?”
“Charming! Delightful! Never have I enjoyed such a swearing before or since.”—Lafayette talking about George Washington cursing at Charles Lee for the battle of Monmouth (from Washington by Ron Chernow page 342) (via its1800)
Just think while you been getting down and out about Caesar’s use of the Ablative Absolute and Cicero’s lengthy speeches you could have been getting down
TO THIS
SICK
BEAT
*starts scanning a line written in dactylic hexameter*
Ever since I did my post about how Thomas Jefferson would go to hell, people have been like “can you do Andrew Jackson too” to which my answer is a resounding HELL NOPE. That dude will LITERALLY MURDER ME and the fact that he’s dead WILL NOT DO A THING TO STOP HIM BECAUSE HELL CANNOT HOLD HIM. Like, most U.S. Presidents are murderers by proxy, but this dude was a LITERAL SERIAL KILLER WHO LIKED TO GET HIS HANDS DIRTY. He is responsible for the only time in American History that the president’s bodyguards had to save the ASSASSIN’S LIFE from the PRESIDENT. You know how we called Nixon “Tricky Dick” because he was a liar and we called George W. Bush “Dubya” after his middle initial and we called Abraham Lincoln “Honest Abe” because he was a pretty above-the-board type of guy? They called Andrew Jackson “Old Hickory” because he liked to BEAT PEOPLE ABOUT THE FACE AND BODY WITH HIS CANE. Like he was absolutely a genocidal maniac who apparently only held the office of President because everyone was too afraid to ask him to leave but now that I’ve said that, I want you all to know that if I’m found beaten to death with a blunt object, I can save the police the trouble of investigating: It was former U.S. President Andrew Jackson come back from the dead for revenge.
Combeferre, a professional chess player, organized a small tournament at Musain that no one showed up to except one very hungover guy who wordlessly sat across Combeferre and checkmated him in under ten minutes and that’s how Les Amis met Grantaire.
Ok I was the anon who asked about the Hero and the Crown and I picked it up on your recommendation and just finished reading and D A M N
DARLING WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, I’M SO PROUD TO HAVE BEEN YOUR SPONSOR IN READING THIS BOOK. I MYSELF AM CURRENTLY REREADING IT AND I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH. D A M N.
Please forgive me for using this as an opportunity to pitch some of my other favorite Robin McKinley books, I CAN’T HELP MYSELF. Don’t feel obliged to read them all, but they’re great, so if you’re ever strapped for a good book, they’re excellent defaults.
Obviously you should read The Blue Sword, because Harry (the main character) is a badass and Corlath (Aerin and Tor’s many-times-great-grandson, the king of Damar) is a delight and Tsornin (the horse) is amazing. AND GONTURAN MAKES A TRIUMPHAL RETURN TO THE BATTLEFIELD, AND LUTHE HAS A BIT, AND AERIN GETS A COUPLE CAMEOS. Basically: read it.
If you liked Aerin’s sense of humor and Talat the equine sass master, I recommend Dragonhaven, which is…fairly self-explanitory, but the basics are that the modern world is exactly the same except that instead of Yellowstone, we have Stonehill Dragon Preserve, and the main character (Jake) accidentally adopts a dragonlet. Jake is perpetually hovering between cranky and wry and Lois is precious.
If you liked the dreamy feeling of Aerin’s stint with Luthe in the stone hall and the weird magic of kelar, I recommend Chalice, which is weird dreamy magic start to finish. The main character (Marisol) is part of a network of magic users who keep and care for their demense (like a…fief?) and she works magic through honey and the new Master (whose arrival makes the whole situation go straight to Hell, it’s not his fault, I love him) is about 80% literal fire.
If you liked the weird magic of kelar and were sitting there thinking “You know what this needs? Modern technology and some dimensional fuckery” I recommend Shadows, which is…well, weird magic, modern(ish) technology, and dimensional fuckery, 10/10 would experience again.
If you liked Maur being terrifying and Aerin being tough even when it was awful for her, I recommend Sunshine, which is my number one favorite vampire novel ever, and in which even the nice vampires are pretty fucking terrifying. The main character (Sunshine) lives in a world that’s basically our world plus demons and vampires and something called the Voodoo Wars that wiped out a good percentage of humanity. She gets kidnapped by vampires and chained up with their other prisoner, who is also a vampire, and she is a brass bound bitch. I adore her. Also the vampire she gets chained up with is great, and the magic in Sunshine is just GORGEOUS.
If you like retellings of fairy tales generally, I recommend Beauty, which is Beauty and the Beast and has a horse named Greatheart and roses and is basically awesome. Spindle’s End is also good, but I like Beauty and the Beast better than Sleeping Beauty so.
If you like to FUCKING SUFFER, I recommend the FUCK out of Pegasus, which is AMAZING and BEAUTIFUL and MAGIC-RIDDEN and ABOUT FUCKING PEGASI, but which is also only the first half of a story and it ends on a heartbreaking cliffhanger, so DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU. The next book’s been ‘in the works’ for SO FUCKING LONG, god, someone needs to read this so I have someone to wail with. @twistedangelsays: I’m coming for you, bitch.
If you like McKinley’s style and want an epic saga in a similar style, I cannot recommend ANYTHING MORE WHOLEHEARTEDLY than the Kencyrath series by PC Hodgell. THe link will take you to my epic-length book rec/tirade. I just. I love those books.
OKAY FRIEND I WILL LEAVE YOU ALONE NOW. BUT IF YOU EVER NEED A BOOK REC HIT ME THE FUCK UP.
this is coleus. for reasons that escape me, it grows in seventy fuckzillion bizarre alien colors, from neon pink to white, and is very close to unkillable. additionally, it propagates extremely well through cuttings. you know it’s coleus if you touch it and it is just a little bit soft, with a juicy stem, and it grows in bunches with alternate paired leaves, and has sort of ‘embossed’ veins that stick out on the bottom of the leaf but are creased in on the top.
when you see coleus growing in a planter you can reach, look both ways to see if the coast is clear, then pinch off a little sprig with your fingernails. you need at least two leaves, though four and a centimeter of stem is best. keep the clipped end moist, like in a water bottle or wet napkin, and get it home fast.
fill a soda or beer bottle up with water. pop the stem in. put on a windowsill to get some light. in two or three days you’ll see little roots starting (make sure to refill the bottle periodically), and in as soon as a week you can plant it, though a month is a good time to wait. you can also keep it in a bottle indefinitely, though green and brown bottles are best for that, as it will block sunlight and cut down on algae growth.
coleus that wants more water will have very droopy, limp leaves, so it’s easy to know when to water it. after it’s been watered, the leaves perk back up in an hour or so and it looks happy. coleus are very dramatic plants.
enjoy your coleus collecting! don’t get caught. if you do, don’t show them this post.
So I wanted to see if Ten Duel Commandments and The World Was Wide Enough used the exact same backing, and then this happened
I JUST SCREAMED
i’d say the biggest difference between the two is the world was wide enough actually adds a theme from my shot in there. the whoa-whoa-whoa-oa-oa’s are in there. it’s a pretty haunting little motif used here.
I don't know if you've seen the comic panel but it's one of my ABSOLUTE favorites and it's basically Batman showing Superman his locked boxes of everyone in Justice League's weaknesses and he tells Superman to open Wonder Woman's. There's nothing inside and Superman is surprised. Batman goes, "Exactly, she has no weaknesses."
Okay, I am usually not a DC’er but let’s be real, EVERYONE is here for Wonder Woman and I am not an exception to this rule. I have seen that panel, and I love it fiercely. Wonder Woman is everything, I would fight you for her honor but instead I feel like she would end up fighting for her honor while I swooned on the sidelines.
Honestly,
though, the best part of teaching Greek mythology is that soft ‘huh’
coming from behind you as you’re finishing up a diagram of the gods and
the relationships they have between them.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, turning around while you try, and fail, to clean white chalk off your fingers.
“It’s
just,” the boy says, and then he blushes a bit, because people taking
Latin are usually good and shy and the last thing they want is to get
into a fight with a teacher. “Those two characters here - aren’t they
both men?”
And okay, at this point everybody’s paying
attention except the resident class child - that one girl who still has
to uses four different colours for everything she writes and will get
upset if you point out she should only use black or blue when filling in
exams. So, yeah, you look at the boy, and then at everybody else, and
then you turn back, pretend to check.
“Yes, they are,” you say, frowning, as if you never had to answer that question before.
“So why is there a double line between them?”
“Because
they were in a relationship at some point. Double lines are for sex, remember? Single
lines are kids and parents, and double lines are lovers.”
Someone
giggles. The two kids whose parents bring them along to weird art
exhibitions - the ones who’ve grown up hearing frank political discussions and the occasional dirty joke - are now looking collected
and a bit smug. The others are losing it, and fast - they look at the
board, as if only just noticing the thing, and then at you.
“So,
they were like, gay?” someone else asks, and it’s always a girl asking
this question, because ‘gay’ is just something boys aged 14 and a half
never use - a Voldemort word, something that’s on your lips today and on
everybody else’s tomorrow.
And this, of course, is the
moment you’ve been waiting for - what the lesson was actually about. You
wouldn’t plan a lesson around that, but you will mention the subject if
it comes up, and so you start talking, about all of it - about sexual
orientation being a cultural construct, about the Greek language not
even having a term for ‘gay’ and ‘straight’, about warriors falling in
love with each other and neglecting their teenage wives, about the fact
our society is still coming to terms with something people have known in
their hearts for millennia - that there’s no choosing and no free will,
not about this. About how the most important thing is to respect
yourself and each other, and the rest doesn’t matter all that
much.
Statistically, in every class there’s a kid
who’s struggling with this. Maybe two. Here things are not as bad as
they could be, but it’s still hard, especially when you’re fourteen and
you think you may be the only one and you don’t want to be different and
how the hell can you even have a conversation about these things, with anyone?
And
sometimes when you talk about these things - and dedicated teachers will
find a way to include this speech somehow, because you never know who
might need an ally, and who might need to hear it said out loud - teachers who loves their kids will mention the issue when discussing Michelangelo and
Leonardo and Shakespeare and the Iliad - sometimes you see exactly who
these kids are. Sometimes you see them looking at you, wide-eyed and
fearful and yet full to the brim with that Go on look that’s so
endearing on any kind of student. And sometimes all you see is their
floppy hair, because they will keep scribbling in their notebooks and
pretending like this is uninteresting and embarrassing and Oh my God,
but the tips of their ears are getting red, and you find yourself hoping
they’ll get a hug today, because they really need it.
Not Even: Well, if you’re only mid-list worthy you’ll have at least twenty rejections.
You want to get published? Fine. You need to accept that every single day of your career will have rejection.
Everything you write will be rejected.
Every book you publish will be hated.
Every character you love will be degraded.
Every hour you put in – the blood and sweat and tears – will be dismissed as “…talentless hack who doesn’t know how to string a sentence together.”
Millions of people will never read your book because they can’t read at all.
Millions of people will never read your book because they don’t speak the same language as you.
Millions of people will never read your book because they hate your genre.
Millions of people will never read your book because they don’t like fe/male authors.
Millions of people will never read your book because they didn’t get into it.
Billions of people will reject your work. They will mock you. They will dismiss you. They will talk trash about you.
You. Will. Be. Rejected.
It doesn’t matter. You aren’t writing for the millions. You are writing for the one.
The one person who tells you your book made them cry because it spoke to them.
The one person who tells you your book changed the way they saw the world.
The one person who tells you your book was the only light in a dark time.
The one person who tells you your book inspired them to be something more.
You are writing for them.
They will wish they could take your characters to prom.
They will read your book after their mother’s funeral.
They will curl up in bed with your book on a cold night after their first real break up.
They will turn to those pages time and again to revisit the places they love.
You’re going to get rejected. And you’re going to take that punch square on the chin and not ever back down because you know who you are writing for. Because you know it takes more than a pretty font to make a book work, you have to be willing to take the rejections. You have to go into this knowing you will fail a million times with a million readers, and that it doesn’t matter because you aren’t writing for them.
Keep your chin up. You are someone’s favorite author even if they don’t know it yet.
I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
“Hippopotamus.”
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned
Hello! I saw you tagged Two Kirks AU with "also if someone wanted to hear more about this universe i am willing to say more". So please do. PLEASE, I AM IN LOVE.
How delightful, I too am in love! Â That post actually got hella popular, Iâm
glad everyone liked it. Â I wanted to tag a few people who left remarks that they wanted to read more of it, but my computerâs not letting me, so please feel free to tag people. Â @thegoodelixir did send me an ask about it a couple days back, so here, friend.
Mmmmkay so the
Kirks bonding a little, yes? Â Also if
anyone has an overwhelming desire to read more Star Trek pain, I have some
thoughts on AOS Tarsus IV here and here.
Oh, and if anyone wants to read something really specific in this âverse,
hit me up (one of those people I canât tag wanted James meeting Bones?).  Itâs all going to be in the tag âtwo kirks au,â I guess.
Jim
is startled when his older selfâJames, on his own insistence, saying that he
was the interloper in this universe and Jim should keep his nameâappears at his
table one day in the Academy mess hall. Â The
entire rising class has been graduated without further debate, the simple act
of surviving  qualifying them for their
diplomas in the eyes of the board. Â The
fate of the Enterprise is under
debate today, and Jim is trying not to hyperventilate about itâthus his
presence in the mess hall, with an unsolved physics equation open on his PADD.
- Within her first week at Starfleet Academy, Jaylah hacked into the environmental controls and security systems of her dorm– because she was bored and twitchy, because she didn’t know what to do with a home she had not taken apart and re-wired herself.
- She broke into the cafeteria after hours and told herself it was just to see if she could. She skipped class to go wander the streets and build a map of the city, of these concrete canyons and glass-and-steel cliff walls, of which way she would run if she needed to. She played her music too loud. Kirk wrote her from deep space, further and further away as the months and maydays of their mission moved on, to ask if she was trying to beat him in demerits earned in an Academy tenure. She took that to mean he approved.
- Jaylah had had a big brother, once. Elah had taught her about engines, about how to wrestle, and a lot of really terrible jokes, once. But Scotty walked her through the Enterprise’s engines, when she was rebuilt and shining. They got grease and fluids all over their overalls. Kirk and Spock sparred with her while they waited for the Enterprise’s next mission to come through– Academy martial arts and Vulcan holds and corn-fed Idaho brawling tricks. Uhura provided the bawdy humor, parsed out smugly at the edges of social gatherings.
- They had set the ruins of the Franklin up as a museum, tucked into the floating bubble of Yorktown. Schoolchildren would take field trips to wander the halls of her house. They invited her to the opening ceremony, cut the ribbon while she and the Enterprise crew were still wandering, limping, through those clean curving streets, but she did not attend.
- Instead Scotty showed up at her doorstep with a bottle of Scotch stolen from Chekhov. They played her music so loud it shook the walls and earned them a dozen pissed off texts from Bones and a single sternly disapproving note from Spock. They ignored them all and toasted the Franklin, a good lady, a fine home.
- When Jaylah boarded a transport ship for Earth, for California and San Francisco and the Academy that lived in the shadow of that golden bridge, the whole surviving crew of the Enterprise came out to the loading dock to wave her good-bye. It had been so many years since she had known any faces so well, living, other than her enemies’. She pressed up against the window and watched them– peach and blue and brown and black and green– disappear.
- No matter how hard she fought and hoped, she had thought she would never get off that planet. The moment she saw her father go down, she had thought she would never be able to survive that stab in his gut, that light that went out of his eyes. She had been small, willow limbs and shaking hands, and she had thought she would never see another sky again.
- She got up early on cold mornings and walked through the swirling San Francisco fog. She greeted the sun as it climbed up over the Bay and burned the sky back to blue.
- The crew pooled their credits and bought her a motorcycle for her next birthday, to replace the one they’d left on the planet. Jaylah had left a lot of things in that boneyard. She drove the steep streets on her humming bike and felt like perhaps she had not left everything.
- When Jaylah took the Kobyashi Maru her final year, she watched her classmates complain and rant afterward about unfairness, about no win scenarios. She did not speak up, just took her results and left. The lesson was one she had already learned, already buried in herself. Sometimes you cannot win, no matter how good you are, no matter how brave, no matter how much you love your daughter and want to live and live and live for her. Sometimes all you can do is die the best way you know how.
- (When the ruckus had finally died down on Yorktown Base, after the smoke had settled, after the crowds had parted, Jaylah had seen Demora Sulu run to her father’s arms. She had seen Hikaru kneel in the rubble and lift his daughter into his lap and hold her safe in his arms. She had thought, I would have died for this. I am alive, and I am glad, but I would have died for this, I would have, I would have died for this)
- (Her little sister Jessy had been about Dem’s age, the last time Jaylah had seen her alive).
- She didn’t declare an emphasis in her Academy studies for two years. Scotty thought she should go into engineering, because as a traumatized, escaped child she had reverse-engineered repairs on the Franklin that could only be matched by his own genius. Kirk thought she would make an excellent command officer. Uhura, impressed by how she had taught herself Federation Standard from the Franklin’s logs, made sure the communications department paid friendly attention to her.
- Instead, Jaylah took the introductory classes for every field of study in the Academy, ignoring the disapproving cries of her guidance counselors. In combat she was years ahead of her peers. She found languages easy, but their technical underpinnings were unengaging and confusing. In engineering she was gifted, but decades behind the state of technology. Scotty had happily dragged her through the Enterprise’s rebuilt engines, but her heart and her blackened fingers would always belong to engines lifetimes older.
- The Enterprise crew were on their second five year mission when Jaylah graduated from Starfleet Academy. They gathered in the main mess hall, all the crew that had survived the Enterprise’s first death, and the new crew members who had heard stories of this adopted daughter of the ship for years. They live-streamed the ceremony. Scotty wore a ‘PROUD BIG BROTHER OF A STARFLEET GRADUATE’ shirt Sulu had hand-lettered for him. Bones opened a bottle of good ol’ Earthside bourbon and pretended not to tear up when her name was called.
- She wore medical blue.
- After years of Academy schooling and medical training, Jaylah stepped onto a Starfleet ship, her badge pinned to her chest. The corridors curved into the distance. The lights hummed and lit up as the ship floor murmured under her feet. It felt like coming home.
- But there were no rocky hills out her shipboard window, no dull sky, no shimmering shield to hide her from her enemies. There was just space– black, cold, endless; brilliant, star-studded; full of discovery and danger and things worth dying for. She was ready to boldly go. She was ready to bravely go. She had thought she would never see another sky and here she was, older than her oldest brother had ever gotten to be, with hands that could defend lives and save them and heal them. The universe was spreading out before her, endless stars lighting the skies of endless planets. She was ready.
