#post-pandemic prose

[s-4pphics]

make the bed. (e.w.)

“𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃.”

omggg my first writing challenge YIPPPEEEE shoutout to olivia rodrigo

ty to the post-pandemic prose and my babies @elliesbelle and @totheblood for pointers :D love yall down 

wc;cw: 1.1K, just angst YAAAAY, internalized homophobia, ellies so sad :(, mentions of alcohol

“lf I liked girls,” you slurred, your lips brushing against the shell of Ellie’s ear, the pounding speakers synched with the squeezes in her chest, “I swear t’god… you’d be mine.” 

Whenever you drunkenly murmur to her like this, Ellie wishes she didn’t hear you; She was shocked she could over the ruckus happening all around, rattling the bubble she created for the two of you. You always sounded so sure with your lies. They never fail to throw her into fight or flight mode. She tensed and her stomach churned in despair. 

“Y’so perfect, Ellie. Love y’so… fuckin’ much. All mine.” 

All she could do was nod and whirl you around with a pained smile before burying it into your clothed shoulder. You didn’t bat an eye; You were always the affectionate drunk. 

But she wanted to scream. To cry and beg and ask — demand that you fall into her right where you stand. To love her the way she’s loved you since she showed you how to ride a bicycle in elementary school. She flinched at every delicate kiss you planted on her neck, her hands squeezing at your hips. She doesn’t know if she wants to push or pull you closer. 

She knows. Her arms enclosed around your waist and you giggle into her skin. 

This is exactly how you two should be. She’s envisioned it since middle school: completely infatuated and engulfed in each other, secluded off in your own little world filled with nothing but solace. Closeness. Affection and desire. 

So why was she sick to her stomach at your scent? Lavender and sage no longer brought her the comfort that they used to in adolescence. She was being torn apart from the inside out, but she couldn’t scream. 

She only listened, digested every drunk fallacy that you directed to her in secret. With no one watching. No one ever watched. No one could know. That was your only rule when she climbed through your window months prior. Please just keep it between us, you’d whispered before leaning in to kiss her. 

At least Ellie could imagine that this was real as she held you tight: recreate the same image in her mind over and over. The two of you are together and happy to be in love with no selfishness or regrets in her mind. All she had to do was close her eyes, and you were all hers, just like you said. She’s so, so in love with you. 

But you didn’t want her. You never did. 

She’s instantly reminded of that day a few months ago. The memory feels like a ghost over her shoulder; Maybe that’s why she’s constantly peeking over it, picking at it with her nails. 

The two of you often reserved study rooms during exam season for review, but you had other plans. You were exactly where you were supposed to be — room 213 — but you weren’t by yourself. 

You — beautiful, as always — brought… friends. Friends that Ellie knew, that you knew, didn’t like her. She never actually talked to them, but she always felt… off. She was instantly riddled with anxiety, the books that she checked out ten minutes ago almost hitting the floor as her arms weakened. Sweat pebbled on her forehead as she stood and watched everyone stare at her. 

Why did it look like they were all laughing? She couldn’t hear any chuckles, but there was laughter. Someone’s laughing at her. Do they know? You have to know, but do they know about the two of you? About how Ellie feels—

Ellie? you’d called. 

… Mhm? she recalls almost fainting. 

Your eyes were confused; You knew something was off, and it made her even more nervous. 

Sit down, honey. Come meet everyone. You made sure to massage her knee under the table; It always soothed her. 

The introductions were surprisingly smooth. Ellie never expected your friends to be so polite considering how rowdy they seemed outside of class. She was pleasantly surprised and put at ease. Until the end of your study session. 

Everyone was packing their bags and cracking jokes. Ellie even got a couple laughs out of some of them during the quiet few hours. 

Ellie wasn’t sure what came over her, but she eased closer to you, still gathering your books. She relaxed at your scent. When you turned to face her with that gentle smile, her mouth moved on autopilot. 

I missed you so much. You never hit me back last night.  

Maybe it was the way Ellie said it. She shouldn’t have looked into your eyes the way she did, whispered to you like that, said she missed you with so much devotion. But she did, and she wished she didn’t. 

Your smile turned to worry instantaneously, and Ellie’s heart plummeted when your head whipped around the room to check if anyone heard before turning back to her. No one cared. 

Ellie felt like she’d been stabbed. It happened so quickly; she probably would’ve missed it if she blinked. Her nails dug into the hardcover of her books, tears jerking in her eyes before she tossed a stiff see you guys later over her shoulder and rushed out the room. You tried to grab her arm, but she shoved you off. She had to fight her instincts so she wouldn’t turn around and apologize for being too rough. 

She got back to her dorm and… trashed it while she cried. Disgust and anger flooded her system while she threw her clothes, her trinkets, the photo of you, Ellie, and her mother at your shared high school graduation across the room (she only sobbed harder when she noticed it cracked when it hit the floor). The emotions that rushed through her weren’t even for you, but for herself. Ellie’s own hope destroyed her, and she only has herself to blame. 

She should’ve known at the time to never speak to you again, but she loved you. She loves you. Every fiber, every cell of her being lived to see you at your happiest; It’s tortuous how you expose the darkest parts that she wished to keep hidden until the end of time. She hasn’t felt like this since she was a teenager. 

And yet, she still swayed you. Kept you close so she could breathe you in. This is the most you allow, at least: physical touch. She knew better than to allow you to mistreat her, but she couldn’t leave you. You both danced until your legs burned, and you fell into her bed the same night. 

She forced herself to lay in the massacred mattress that she’d tried to keep made since she was a kid. The least you could do was fluff the pillow you slept on every night.

[disasterhimbo]

there's laundry to do and a genocide to stop

By Vinay Krishnan

there’s laundry to do and a genocide to stop. I have to eat better and also avoid a plague. my rent went up $150. I’ll need to pick up more shifts. Twenty people died in Rafah this morning and every major news outlet is stretching the limits of passive voice to suggest whole families may have leaped up through the air at missiles that otherwise had the right of way. I just got a notification that my student loan payments are starting up again and my phone isn’t charged. My cousin got COVID for a fourth time and can no longer work or walk or even feed himself. The person across from me on the L train seems to fashion themself a punk rock revolutionary, but they’re not wearing a face mask, and that’s the kind of cognitive dissonance that makes me want to steal batteries. Fascists keep winning primaries for both parties, and I think I gained a few pounds. The CDC just announced there are no more speed limits on highways, and I think this Ativan is finally hitting. The NYPD farmer’s market only sells bad apples, have you heard that one? Listen it’s warm today, too warm for March. But I don’t have time to think through the implications because there’s laundry to do and a genocide to stop.

Source: https://x.com/vinayrkrishnan/status/1765428498573771235

[sarah-gratton]

Finished uni. Dunno what to do with myself. Wrote this instead.

"I already know which friends are never going to meet with me again, and what unhealthy habits I’ll ditch, and how I’ll keep my bedroom tidy. Little things I’ve learned by living with myself and spending the last 4 years as not just a student, but as an adult learning how to survive. I know which order to do my dishes, I know which cleaning products work best for what, I know how to keep a shower clean and how to keep mold off of things. And now I’ll be going home with all this incredible knowledge… but with a bachelor’s. I think that’s a good start." -Sarah Gratton

[totheblood]

star and angel’s writing server!

hi everyone, me and angel ( @seattlesellie ) are creating a server for the last of us writers, just to write and hopefully build motivation for more writers in this community. this server will be about writing ONLY, unfortunately meaning it’s not about making friends and having personal conversations, but primarily about helping eachother write!

the server will discuss writing tips, writing advice, writing challenges and games, and occasional sprints (writing sprints which is where we basically write for like 15 or 30 minutes and we are ranked based on how many words we wrote)

additionally, it’s okay if you write for other fandoms and other people, the only requirements is that you are at least 18, write for at least ellie or abby, and understand the rules and be respectful of the others in the server!

this can also be a good way for people to gain traction, find new fics in the tag, and hopefully adds a bit more life to this fandom here.

if you want to join this server, please fill out this form and i will be in contact with you!

we hope to see you in “post-pandemic prose”!

[blythelyunaware]

On the "terrible lyrics" discourse...

It's always interesting to me when, right before an album rollout, we have a subsect of swifties and/or simply bad-faith haters who immediately pan a new album by plucking out lyrics out of context. It seems that the curse of folkevermore will forever loom over any new album rollout because most people aren't...that bright? Folkevermore is brilliant for many reasons, not least of all because it was perfectly timed to fit the tone of the socio-cultural time it was released in. People ate it up because a). those albums were pandemic albums and b). they were written mostly in the "quill pen" style. For some reason, and perhaps this is due to a lack of wider reading, people associate "good lyrics" with flowery prose that is reliant heavily on lots of figurative language and "bad lyrics" as simple statements. And so anything that has been released post-folkevermore has been panned as a "step down" because people think Taylor Swift is only worth listening to when she releases music that people perceive, through stereotypes or general insufferableness, as artsier and therefore of more value.

I don't know if it's just a universally bad education system or maybe we don't read contemporary literature enough, but that's just not true. I love folklore so very much, and its most Keats-style 19th-century poet song, "The Lakes," is perhaps one of its weakest because it's trying too hard and some of it, frankly, makes no sense ("Tell me what are my Wordsworth" ???? Like we know that clunky-ass lyric was only put in there for a dumb ass poet reference). And then we have The Last Great American Dynasty, which contains fairly simple/ slightly kooky statements such as: "And in a feud with her neighbour, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green." Which is way better at characterising the person in that story!!!

It was the same with the "sexy baby" lyric in Anti-Hero (IMO a very interesting lyric!). It's not about how many metaphors she can pack in or the number of stars or 2 AM dancing-in-the-rain or running-down-a-field-to-her-prince, or other fairytale motifs that makes her songs so good. It's her ability to tie a concept together or create a thread of shared ideas within an album. People are clowning on the whole "Charlie Puth being a bigger artist" because Charlie Puth isn't typically considered "high brow" and has released some pretty cringey stuff. But if you look deeper into the reason for why she included that in her song: it fits into the album conceit. The album visuals are very much dark academia, college prep, intellectuals etc. etc. This lyric is not so much about Charlie Puth as it is about her relationship dynamic with the person she is singing about. It's about how they had shared intellectual values around music. And that is the genius of Taylor Swift. She does not need to point a gigantic neon sign at a lyric saying "LOOK! LOOK! THIS IS A METAPHOR AND I AM VERY CLEVER AND YOU CAN FEEL CLEVER FOR GETTING IT!".

To end it all I would urge swifties to please read more and read widely. (I also realise just how pretentious and obnoxious I sound but hey, if we're gonna play into the aesthetic, why not?)

[stillgotme]

Been pretty quiet the past month and I don't know if there's really anyone that's still stuck around to see what I do next, but I'm still here! And the reason I haven't been posting as much is because I've been planning and I’m here to make some quick announcements for how 2024’s gonna go on this blog moving forward.

First things first....Karaoke Secrets is going on hiatus and this was what I was embarrassed to say because this story has barely taken off yet I’ve already had two big gaps in between posts and we still haven’t gotten anywhere. Oof. 

I admit, I kinda went overboard with adding a third story when I haven’t even finished the other two. Not to mention, because this one was more driven by fun and me needing a break from my usual stuff, I’ve faced the realization that this story isn’t as developed. It’s why I unfortunately hit a creative wall with it and along with the struggle of trying to do 3 stories at once, my inspo just isn’t with it at the moment. 

Don’t get me wrong, though, I still very much love this story! But I gotta really sit down and figure out an outline for it. I do prefer some sort of structure and I don’t have the full structure yet, so it’s best to put this thing to halt and see what I really want to do with it. Maybe one day when I’ve gotten the inspiration again and I’ve tightened some rough spots, then I can come back to it. For now, it’s on a break. And don’t worry, you will still see Risa and Akira every once in a while when I do some edits. I hope you understand.

BUT NOW THE GOOD NEWS:

AFTER FOUR LONG YEARS, REDEMPTION IS FINALLY MAKING A RETURN. Now, despite my lack of storytelling since the pandemic, I’m letting you all know that in the background I never actually stopped writing. I was still going over scenes for this story, writing dialogue, even going back to old scenes and writing in depth prose for them to get more in touch with my characters. 

This story is so dear to me and the inspiration has called me for the past few months. And thanks to the lovely people in the writing discord I’ve joined, that storytelling spark has finally come back. What held me back was the worry over Karaoke Secrets, but I needed to stop forcing myself to treat this like a job and follow my inspo. 

So we’re picking up where we left off. To new and old readers, I will do a summary post that tells you the story so far. I understand not everyone has the time to sit down and read and you are in no way obligated to do that so you’ll have the option to get a recap. That way we’re all on the same page by the time the story returns. And if you do wanna read from the beginning, be my guest!

Thank you to everyone that’s taken the time to read this and stick around. I understand I’ve been so messy with storytelling lately because of real life, but it really feels different now. I’m genuinely excited to get back to telling this story that’s been in my head since 2018 and hope you’ll join me in this crazy journey (again). And shoutout to the writing group for giving me the motivation. It may not have seemed like much, but your support has led me to fully get my storytelling back out there. 

I love you all 💖

[garglyswoof]

Tagged by @jinxedwood and @austennerdita2533 for my fave books, I'm going with the wordy jinxedwood version bc yes, friends, you know me by now. I am what one calls a verbose bitch.

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER and this list may not be accurate but it's accurate tonight.

East of Eden - John Steinbeck The humanity of this book is what got to me. I couldn't imagine reading another book when I finished this one, I felt bereft and that odd sense of loss that comes at the conclusion of a story with characters you deeply love. Not to mention that the Kathy angle made sections feel straight out of a modern day thriller.

H is for Hawk - Helen MacDonald.. to intertwine a memoir of grief and loss with a th white biography and a large measure of birding knowledge is quite the feat. But that sounds too pat an answer. I'll quote my goodreads review for this: This book felt like me sharing something that lurks so deep inside my heart, so carefully protected, so strewn with feelings like vines and bits of moss that shake off as I hold it out. It felt like sharing that something and absolutely, 100%, knowing that the recipient understood, with every fiber of their being.

Survival in Auschwitz - Primo Levi. Please, this isnt just what you think it is. It is that and more. Levi's words will leave you spellbound and aching and hopeful and everything in between.

Dandelion Wine - Ray Bradbury. As with most of my favorites, this is sublime writing that makes me long for a time i am too young to have experienced. Utterly gorgeous.

Provinces of Night - William Gay. This was my first William Gay novel and I am slowly making through them all. Southern Gothic with such elegant prose. I want to write like him. A negative review called Gay's work "novels with poems scattered about weak plots" and frankly? that's what i love? so good job you sold me

Microserfs - Douglas Coupland The author of my 20s. His stuff opened me up to fiction about real people with real feelings thinking the things you do in your head. The unbearable loneliness of the human condition and the wondrousness that is friendship. I am not a rereader but ive read this book at least five times. I have no idea if it has aged well, i do not care.

The Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny. Something about this urban? fantasy grabbed me in a chokehold and never let go. I first read this at the beach, paging through dog-eared paperbacks a friend urged me to read. I barely left the deck that week. The traveling into Amber, the walking of the Pattern - these things will never leave me.

Lonesome Dove - Larry McMurtry Look yes it's a western but it's The Western for a reason. Characters that seep into your bones. The image of lightning dancing across a steer's horns remains as vivid as when i read the book 3+ years ago.

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel Something about how this post-pandemic story is paced, something about the stakes of it and how they will differ from any other post-apocalyptic book you've ever read, stuck with me. There was a simple beauty here that I never want to let go of.

Honorable mentions Les Mis, War and Peace, To be Taught if Fortunate, and i feel like i need a separate list for fave fun books? like romance and paranormal romance and ya that i love but dont come close to the above's impact

tagging @purplesigebert im curious! @ninzied cmon wax poetic with me about books @carry-the-sky i almost put the things they carried on here bc you made me read it but i can only do 9 @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined i just feel like you'd have some cool thoughts and books to share

ok im tagged out

[lies-unfurl]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💜

Thanks for tagging me! It's hard to choose, but some that I'm especially proud of are:

Punchline (SamBucky, post-HTP sickfic): Shitty Bedtime Stories is one of my favorite series; I really like the dynamic of Sam and Bucky having a healthy relationship while also learning to navigate boundaries in a trauma-informed sense. I really enjoyed writing this part in particular; the genre fusion of crack with sickfic with a really awful story about what Bucky went through was super interesting to navigate.

Bloom (SamSteveBucky, soulmate AU, magical realism): I don't actually like soulmate AUs that much normally, so exploring and unpacking the tropes associated with them was a lot of fun. I also let myself go a bit more prose-y than I usually do. tbh I didn't really think anyone would read this, so the fact that other people have enjoyed it too was really gratifying (also, the art is GORGEOUS).

the more I see you (the more I want you) (SamBucky, 5+1 times Sam accidentally sees Bucky's junk): again with great art, and also, this one was just fun to write. Also it was the first longfic I wrote in years, so it's got a special place in my heart.

nothing in nature that freezes your heart (gen, post-Endgame, A Christmas Carol AU): idk, I just really like Christmas fics.

quarantriad (SamSteveBucky, pandemic fic): I also really like the dynamic between Sam and Steve and Bucky here, and it's fun to write something that's a bit more lighthearted (even though the subject matter is kind of heavy). Also, it took me years to finish it and I'm proud I did lol.

I'm bad at tagging people, but if you've been wanting to do this, take this as your sign!

[xbittersweetnightshadex]

Hello again, Tumblr! 🖤 c: After thinking on it for some time, I made the decision this year to sort of step out into the world again. Between some very heavy back-to-back personal stuff, a serious hit to my career goals courtesy of the many post-pandemic changes that negatively impacted freelancers and small business owners, and the increasing hostility and lifelessness of the current digital landscape, I had stepped away for quite a while. This year, I'm ready to try again, despite where we're at as a society currently.

For the moment, Tumblr feels like this sort of last bastion of authenticity in a sea of filters, manufactured personalities, and algorithms that seem to favor and encourage our demise. Not that Tumblr doesn't have its own set of problems. Nothing is quite like it used to be, that's for sure. Times are strange, to say the least.

Anyway, I'll be on other platforms, too, sharing thoughts and projects and such, but I'll probably be the most active here for the time being - at least until something gives and a better platform comes along or I build my own (which is not a joke, actually; I'm doing this). But in the meantime! If any friends are still active here and would like to send me fun posts from time to time or just chitchat and catch up on here, please do so. I'll be around pretty regularly from here on out. c:

I think I'm also going to pin this post for a while, so I guess I should put some links here, too. :x If anyone is interested in keeping up with my projects - my artwork, my writing, my spiritual work, my boutique, or any other things I may take on in this lifetime - you can click here to visit my personal website. You can also subscribe there to receive email notifications whenever I post a new article, which is usually updates, but also ramblings and poetic prose from time-to-time. I also have websites dedicated solely to my creative projects (Dezydration) and solely to my spiritual work (The Witchy Housewife) at this time, if you're more interested in one or the other. Alternatively, you can check out this page for links to literally everywhere I am online right now, which will remain regularly updated as that presence shifts.

I look forward to coming out of my lil turtle shell. 🐢 I hope this year is better for all of us, 'cause it's been rough. Love you guys! 🖤

[rootsmachine]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

:)) love a good 'let me talk about the fic i feel most insane abt' prompt thank u charlotte!!

in No particular order:

it cannot hold -- yj, my First tai post rescue fic. i think there's some of my favorite prose abt tai i've written in here! i also feel like this was written in response to a Dearth of tai focused fic and im so happy that it's no longer the Only tai post rescue character study out there

the end is near -- (they dont know this was a supernatural blog) .. anyways writing supernatural fic during the pandemic kept me like relatively incredibly sane. this is a Later spn fic of mine but i stand by the concept & the characterization. s8 au where meg plays an actually central role & i often think about in the version of supernatural that lives in my head. this happened.

a hillside struggling to stand -- i LOVE this fic even tho it never really got the REsponse that a lot of my other fic did lmao. tallahassee au (the mountain goats album) where tai and van are locked in one of those moose antler death moments.

all the frequencies hold -- this is probably some of my favorite writing i've done. i feel like it hangs together well & is some of my favorite uses of language i've had. if that makes sense! anyways the immediate aftermath of the rescue from tai's pov. shes Struggling w reality folks!

hard choice. ok under the waves in the blue -- NO way im finishing this list WITHOUT an other tai fic. it's a hard choice btwn this and the tai x other tai x van fic BUT . i think i like some of my writing choices in under the waves better!

[s-4pphics]

forever dying. (e.w.)

FEAR. noun. an unpleasant emotion or thought that you have when you are frightened or worried by something dangerous, painful, or bad that is happening or might happen.

emotions writing challenge :3

wc;cw: 7 hunnid, angst, ellie needs a hug :(, gore

Ellie’s boots bury deep into the snow with every weighted footstep, her pack and bow hitting her back as she walks. She wanted to run, but she didn’t want to cause a scene; Freaking out in public makes her freak out more. 

She needs to get home. She misses you and she’s on the verge of panicking because you’re not next to her. She should’ve never volunteered to do patrol. 

You’re tired, you’d whispered in the early morning as she dressed, just lay here with me? 

He’s old, Ellie whispered back: about Joel. If she doesn’t go, then he’ll have to, and he’s old, although he denies it; He shouldn’t be working as hard anymore, at least, that’s what Ellie convinced herself when she saw him reorganizing the horse shed. Boxes were being stacked, but he was tired; It was evident in the tremor in his arms. Ellie’s exhaustion will never be able to match his, no matter what she does. Plus, I wanna go. It won’t be long, promise. 

And just like that, she kissed your head, your nose, your lips, before snagging her coat and leaving. 

She’s gotten used to killing clickers; There was a dark point — two years ago — where she actually enjoyed it: the grittiness, the power she had over the source that destroyed the world. But moments like today remind her how gruesome and horrific life is. 

It was only mile three into patrol when she saw the scene from a distance: the outline of a boy, no older than ten, dead and bloody, being preyed on by at least five clickers. At least. 

Millions of thoughts rushed through her mind: why was he alone? Why is he so small? Why didn’t she come sooner and save him? 

Horror slammed into her and she froze, nausea overtaking her at the sight. Shimmer was already snorting and shifting, preparing to turn around, but Ellie couldn’t move. She only gripped the lasso tighter, her thick gloves pinching her skin. 

Apparently, she breathed too loudly; All the clickers turned towards her direction in milliseconds. She wasn’t prepared for all of them to rush towards her and Shimmer. She wasn’t... fucking prepared. 

Ellie’s still not sure how she made it out, but she did, and she needs you close. Vulnerability is extremely difficult for her, but she melts with you. She should’ve never left this morning. 

“Ellie!” Jesse. “Wait up!”

She’s already shaking her head, moving quicker.  

“I’m fine!” She’s not. She swiftly peers over her shoulder, dismissively waving her hand. “I just… I needa get home. We’ll talk later.” Has her safe haven always been this fucking far?  

It seems like hours pass before her walk ends, and she’s on your shared porch; She shoves through the door and is hit with immediate warmth and the smell of cinnamon, and her heart calms. Only slightly. 

She kicks her shoes off and tosses her supplies on the floor before padding down the hallway and into your shared bedroom. 

You’re sitting on the floor, reorganizing the bookshelf, murmuring song lyrics to yourself. You meet her eyes in a mirror propped up against the wall and smile. 

But it drops at the sound of her voice. 

She only whispered hey, but her tone is enough to get you up and moving towards her, concern on your face. Her expression is telling: fear. Grief. No wonder she’s back so early. 

Your hands are cautious as they hover over her shoulders, but she nods gently. It’s okay, she hopes her eyes read, please hold me.  

She’s instantly pulled close, right up against you, and she falls apart. Ellie doesn’t feel any tears coming, just feels them seep into your sweater. You’re asking if she’s hurt, but she’s not sure how to answer, so she stays quiet. 

Your touch is so soothing. But she’s scared… and heartbroken. And guilty: she, somehow, feels at fault. That poor kid. She's sobbing now, loud and painful.

Hope, in this time, is lethal. The graphic scene is proof enough that the world is forever dying. 

[elliesbelle]

using relationship trauma as inspiration for my stories like

[transwolvie]

So for a long time now I've been beating myself up for "not being able to write" after college. I was incredibly burnt out on coming up with original ideas and making original works after churning out a prose project every 2 weeks for 4 years and that's understandable.

But I was just looking at my ao3 and like....until the pandemic I was still posting at least one fic a year which means I was certainly writing and working on more.... it just feels like I never write anymore and that I don't have any ideas or ability to work, but looking at the dates and realizing that I clearly HAVE still been writing, even if it wasn't original works......makes me think that part of the problem is that I'm being much too harsh on myself

Instead of constantly being tortured that I'm not writing, which clearly was never even that true, I really want to get back to a place where writing is just the typical background radiation of my life, multiple projects and ideas and stories floating around, and not tearing my hair out if something gets put aside for a long time in favor of other projects or running out of ideas for one thing. Or beating myself up unnecessarily for not constantly constantly CONSTANTLY writing.

[dykekakashi]

(ask inspired by that post about no one sending asks nowadays) what are some of your favorite nonfiction books? also pls tell your puppy he is adorable for me

thank u for this, west!!! 🥺 i have so many but here's a few:

speak, memory by vladimir nabokov — does this even count as nonfiction? it is autobiography but sometimes it feels so much like fiction. anyway, absolutely one of my favourite books, beautiful prose, made seeing the butterfly collection at the nabokov museum much more meaningful!!

the house of government by yuri slezkine — a history book but like if it was a tolstoy novel. what could possibly go wrong (many things) but it's just an excellent read. the crux of the argument, that the bolsheviks were a millenarian sect, is so compelling and i think about it all the time even after graduating lol. definitely changed a lot re: how i think of religion and secularism

the furies: violence and terror in the french and russian revolution by arno j. mayer — another one of those books that makes u question how analytically sound it is, but provides a thought-provoking framework for thinking about revolution (and the less often addressed force of "counter-revolution") & political violence

ghosts of my life by mark fisher — i don't know what there is to say about this lol. i read it during spring 2021, when the pandemic wasn't quite over and i still wasn't sure what i was going to do w my life after graduation. it put a lot of things that i had been feeling re: art, media, just my general sense of the (im)possible future into words

the last utopia by samuel moyn — similar to the above actually but within the realm of political frameworks/ideologies. i don't think i've used any work more than this one in my own (academic) writing). the general gist of it is re: the way that the desire for political utopias (e.g. communism) turned into a desire for moral utopias (namely, human rights in the western/US-centric sense of them)

the elusive republic: political economy in jeffersonian america by drew mccoy — i have a strange fondness for this one because tbh it was the first book that made me interested in a) US history b) political economy overall. before this i didn't understand what republicanism was at all, tbh

ludwig wittgenstein: the duty of genius by ray monk — intensely well researched biography of an interesting man and the only way i will ever understand anything wittgenstein ever wrote. so. thank u mr monk

financial missionaries to the world: the politics and culture of dollar diplomacy by emily rosenberg — similar to the mccoy book, one of the first books that made me interested in political economy and US history. also actually addresses gender & media, which makes it doubly interesting because hmm. gender has historically not been addressed very often in studies of economic history or political economy lol. not a lot of women writing in this field to begin with unfortunately. anyway, it's about international lending as a form of imperialism, to be very very general

designing dead souls: an anatomy of disorder in gogol by susanne fusso — just such a cool book tbh. i don't know of any other authors writing about 19th c russian literature from this lens (then again i don't read a lot of complit monographs), v much focused on themes of sexuality, death, gender, aesthetics, etc. not just in this book but in her other ones, too

& pls ..... i gave him a tiny little forehead kiss on ur behalf<33

[sicksadreads]

the plague by albert camus

rating: 3/5

category: fiction

I set out to read this book in a post pandemic world to find comfort in comparison and similarities. This is my first introduction to Camus and before reading, a friend had mentioned his philosophy and that it would be interesting to figure out what Camus had to say about society. Another friend had slogged through the book and struggled with it completely. With this in mind, I pursued. At times I struggled with differentiating between characters, mostly due to the prose being somewhat difficult to digest. This was my main gripe with the book as it weaves in and out of character plot development and philosophical musings.

My main takeaways from The Plague were exactly what I hoped for. History has definitely repeated itself and it was very interesting to see the different attitudes and various stages of acceptance of the plague play out in society. From class privilege to religious beliefs to utter doom and pessimism, Camus' strengths lie in exploring social behaviours in crisis. The descent into hell and madness was one I never thought I'd see for myself and it seems oddly similar to Camus' story. The real madness is the instant resume to normality once the plague has run its course. A few key scenes in the book caught me off guard and made me think about death in both a clinical and emotional level.

Overall, I would have given this book a 4 out of 5 if it weren't for the prose. I found myself skimming through parts where the words couldn't sink in. It was also helpful to find some other reviews online after reading (to avoid spoilers) to help contextualise Camus' intention. A good read, perhaps not enjoyable if you feel covid fatigue. It would make a great resource for future generations who did not experience the 2020 pandemic to help them understand the reality of what we went through.

[alulasprinkles]

Do you have any post-war well written dramione fics??? Please I’m literally dying to find a good one!!!

I LOVE talking about my recs, so thank you for asking this!

It totally depends on what genre you are looking for. What I love about this fandom is there is so much variation in genre. Here's a few of my favorites:

Wait and Hope (M) by mightbewriting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22818646/chapters/54531817

(tumblr: @mightbewriting)

Hermione wakes up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there but seemingly in otherwise good health. Imagine her surprise when former school bully and ex Death Eater Draco Malfoy bursts into the room insisting he speak to "his wife". Memory loss fic with all the feels and absolutely beautiful prose, set about ten years post-war.

Perfect Storm (E) by PrettiestStar17

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820733/chapters/24009042

(tumblr: @prettieststar17)

If you're looking for RomCom, look no further. When Hermione is asked to be Ginny's maid of honor, she mentally prepares herself for the horror of spending a weekend with her ex-husband, Ron Weasley. Only, when she learns the identity of Harry's best man, she realizes it's about to be so much worse. Hilarious, adorable, and definitely worth the read.

Love in a Time of the Zombie Apocolypse (E) by rizzlewrites

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137807/chapters/68944698

(tumblr: @rizzlewrites)

This one is super famous, but I put off reading it for forever because of one word: "zombie". Let me tell you, it was nothing like I was expecting. Post-wizarding war, BAMF Hermione Granger is tasked to cure the pandemic responsible for turning the world's population into zombies. There's only one man who might be able to help her save the world: Azkaban's highest security prisoner and world-infamous Draco Malfoy. If you're looking for an action/thriller, you've found it.

If anyone wants more recs, please don't hesitate to ask. I could spend all day talking up these incredible authors! 🙌🏼