New York Went From Winter, To Flood Season, To "the Grass Is Taller Than My Pyrenees" In The Span Of

Daylight savings time is stupid.

That's all.

...have you ever written so much fanfiction for the sole purpose of forgetting what canon is and how a single episode literally traumatized you into being able to be creative again?

Have you ever read so much fanfiction and consumed so much fanart that you genuinely forgot what canon is?

My proposed bumper sticker design in honor of Threshold Day

Some of the best and simultaneously most disappointing character arcs in television.

2.15, The Queen is Dead 5.05, Dreamcatcher

I'm 129,000 words in and my flashbacks are misaligned with my present day scenes and now the main characters rekindle in the present before they breakup in the past gahhhhhh

How did I do this to myself >.<

Some of my processes for planning out fics...but fear not! I can't follow the multiple timeline things either 🥲

YouTube

USS Discovery Bridge | Star Trek Ambience

USS Discovery without the terrible writing and cornball acting.

When I really need to get into the space-writing zone, this is where I go 🙃

I aspire to one day be able to write a villain as layered as this dude.

I'm still convinced he is television's greatest villain.

despicable. foul thing ⬆️

100%

lesbian situationship break-ups on the voyager must have been lethal

"He asked about you," Eva said, rubbing one arm and then shoving a hand in her pocket. "Who you are, why you care."

"I don't like bullies, is all," Taryn replied with a frown, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Ain't need no more reason than that."

"He says you got a mouth on you. Says you oughtta learn when to shut it."

Eva looked at the ground as she said it, kicking at the gravel with the toe of her boot.

"That what he said?" Taryn asked, and she almost grinned as she leaned back on the column.

"That's what he said."

"And what d'you think Miss Eva Kincaid?"

"I don't think nothin'."

"That means you think somethin'."

Eva looked up, and her mouth and her brows settled into hard lines.

"I think you gone an' pissed off Mister Sterling. An' I think you just might wanna listen to him."

Taryn regarded her. She still wasn't swayed. She could tell Eva knew it, too. She pushed off the column and came a step closer.

"I'll think about shuttin' my mouth when he thinks about keepin' his hands off o' you. You can tell him I said that, too."

-----

Taryn Monroe prefers simplicity–her place in the mountains, the predictable rhythm of her job at the mill, and the peace that comes with keeping to herself.

Every Tuesday, a woman shows up at precisely fifteen minutes to close. Taryn doesn’t know much about her–just the rumble of her truck, the way she never wastes words, and the peculiar gallon of sulfur she buys each week. Then one Tuesday, she doesn’t show up. Taryn tells herself to leave it alone, that it’s not her business and the woman can handle herself. But when she overhears an argument and starts asking questions, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong–and her life becomes anything but simple. Something wild is living in the barn at Wardenwood Hollow. Something keeping the woman bound to the old Sterling Farm. And Taryn may be her only chance to break free.