#I personally don’t like insta poetry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eneablack · 24 days

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one thing about me is that i have an innate ability to manifest desired partners.

little info about me is that i hate relationships and i always struggled in maintaining one and im just so insecure and fucking scared of love and intimacy.. wait, who said that? that wasn’t me. anyway.

there are times where i feel love starved so i simply open google doc and write a bunch of things i would like in a partner. their appearance, their personality, and even their name. and that shit manifests instantly, even without putting intention. it just does, with its own mind.

i will talk some short story times of these manifestation because it’s simply funny to me that i manifest this shit so easily but then struggle with stuff that i actually want.

so, there was this period of time when i was obsessed with poetry and south-east asia, i had so many crushes in kdramas and bands. so i just typed down my ideal boyfriend, i wrote that he was southeast asian, romantic, interested in poetry, tall, and other things i don’t remember. but that was it, i didn’t put any intention afterwards, it was simply something fun to do. little did i know that i actually manifested it in no time, he was like how i scripted, he was chinese and living in italy like me, he was cute and romantic, and he confessed to me by writing me a fucking poem. but i wasn’t ready for a relationship so i cut off contact with him, because that’s what i do.

then, this other time, i started writing again my ideal partner, with half intention to manifest it. i wrote down that he was artsy and alternative, taller than me (i have a thing for tall men), half french, liked rock music, i even wrote the exact name i wanted him to have, and other stuff. literally some days later, i was joking around at school at the window and there was this group of older students and i joked with them not showing my face (because i’m simply more confident if i don’t show my face) and they said to show myself but i was like hell no. but after some minutes, two guys came in the class and one of them said “so it was you” (i was dumb to think that they wouldn’t recognise the class i was speaking from lmao) and he was so fine, simply my type. he was again exactly how i scripted and even the fucking name was the same. then he became my crush and we started talking on insta and saying hi in corridors. then he started texting me to meet during classes and we started seeing each other more and hanging out. then he asked me out on a date and he kissed me, and it was my first kiss, but i didn’t feel nothing at all so i was very down after that, and my interest started fading and i pushed him away lmaoo.

then then then, this more recent time i wanted to manifest someone that simply had remus lupin vibes, but wasn’t specific. suddenly this guy starts following me on insta and he texts me saying that we knew each other years ago, but i just remembered his unique name and not his identity. we talked only a bit and then he posted pictures of himself and man, he was literally a remus lupin variant let me tell you. but he deleted his account so we didn’t talk further.

i think there were other times where this list method manifested, and i want to do it again once i’m ready for a relationship.

#success story #manifestation #manifestation tips #sp #manifesting sp #significant other #how to manifest #desired partner

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bloodyquillink-blog · 5 months

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Hey hello! My name’s bloodyquillink, but here, you can call me Quill I guess?

Couple things about me for curious people:

I’m autistic and adhd

I write poetry, stories, drabbles and whatnot occasionally

I write poetry in response to some fanfics I’ve read here on tumblr sometimes, I’ll link them below if you’d like to read

I really like music, cooking and art (you can find me on insta @ alyssa.the.ghost if you wanna see some stuff)

There’s not much more, I’m pretty basic

Here’s characters I’m open to writing for, whether drabbles, HC’s or stories (Second person POV’s):

Sleep Token and its members as *characters*

David “Hesh” Walker from CoD: Ghosts

Logan Walker from CoD: Ghosts

Keegan P. Russ from CoD: Ghosts

Kick from CoD: Ghosts

Elias “Scarecrow” Walker from CoD: Ghosts

Thomas A. Merrick from CoD: Ghosts

Alex V. “Ajax” Johnson from CoD: Ghosts

Any of these characters with x reader and/or poly relationships work if you’re interested. Also, you can find some story things I’ve written and read on Ao3 @ RiversSong82, especially if you like Logan Walker x Reader!

Feel free to leave me a message in the ask box on my profile but please don’t spam message me. Including media is okay if it helps get your idea across. I won’t write smut fics but smut HC’s are fine, HOWEVER, I don’t have a lot of experience with smut so I can’t guarantee anything(suggestive ideas are all good)! I do not write for child readers, must be 20 years minimum.

Thank you for reading this and enjoy my blog!

Masterlist:

*If “here” if not written next to the name of a character, I haven’t written anything for them yet!*

Sleep Token here

Call of Duty: Ghosts here

Logan Walker here

David “Hesh” Walker here

Keegan P. Russ

Kick here

Alex “Ajax” Johnson

Elias “Scarecrow” Walker

Thomas A. Merrick

Fanfiction Poems here

#sleep token fanfiction #sleep token fanfic #sleep token #sleep token x reader #david hesh walker x reader #logan walker x reader #keegan p russ x reader #elias scarecrow walker #thomas a merrick #alex ajax johnson #call of duty kick #call of duty ghosts kick #david hesh walker #logan walker #elias scarecrow walker x reader #thomas a merrick x reader #alex ajax johnson x reader #kick x reader

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maybuds · 1 year

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Sorry to ask but why do people hate rupi and other insta poets? Not hating just very confused. Is it bad writing?

hi! i don’t hate rupi kaur either, mostly i just don’t really care about her lol, but yes, it is bad writing. i think this post articulates it better than i can. most instagram poets write the same way.

poetry is supposed to be an experience through language that is worked/bent/reconfigured to break from the default comprehension of something, and trying to get across the unsayable as close as possible so that as you read the poem, your mind—much like if you were experiencing something physically, whether it’s as ordinary as walking through an alley on the way home, or as whack as fighting with someone—goes through something that can’t be explained if the language used wasn’t worked/bent/reconfigured like that. and that’s where subjectivity lies—in how you experienced the poem. it’s kind of like when you’re in a dream, and you wake up and think nothing was rational in that dream, but subconsciously it made so much sense, and it left something deeper than you can explain—but it only makes sense to you because of how personal it was.

i’m sure others will say it’s not the same for everyone, but poetry is definitely not ‘if i enter-enter this content and put it on white background, voila, i made a poem.’ with rupi kaur and ig poetry, you could post them on the subway walls and it would still feel like an advertisement to something. it’s banal and so stuck on the need to be relatable, consumable. it’s adspeak.

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magnus-sm-writes · 1 year

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WIP (Re)Intro: Hamish

(Image ID: A cropped slice of Van Gogh's Skull with Burning Cigarette focusing on the facial structure.)

Genre: Literary Fiction/Gothic | Progress: Rewriting | World: Earth | POV: First Person Referral (I to You), Past Tense | Hamlet Retelling

Summary

Hamish Herbert Jr. is the son of Hamish Herbert Sr. and Genoveva Machado de Herbert, two prominent politicians, and all he wants to do is abandon his past. Horacio Aiza is a bright university student looking to leave his abusive childhood behind. Their codependent friendship leads them to Hamish's family home upon news of Hamish Sr.'s death. But once they arrive, Hamish and Horacio are haunted by both real and metaphorical ghosts as they attempt to uncover the truth. A Hamlet retelling.

In One Sentence

Upon the news of Hamish's father's death, Horacio accompanies him back to his abusive family, where both of their haunting pasts are just as dangerous as the present.

Literal Logline

"Ride or die" in the most literal sense, featuring ghosts.

Inspirations

Warsan Shire's poetry, NBC's Hannibal, Fransisco Goya's black paintings, "From Now On We Are Enemies" by Fall Out Boy, The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Why am I rewriting it?

Put quite simply, Hamish was my first novel that I took some real risks with. Looking back at the last draft (from 2020, before I was even a man), I can fully identify that many of my literary hallmarks were established in this novel. It was a test of my ability to write unlikable, morally-gray characters in a way that didn't have to be fully-explained, and with little satire, unlike Jeez Take the Wheel. It was the first novel I posted to my writing Insta, so it has some great nostalgia for me. And it feels right to return to now that I've established myself as an author of semi-gothic stories with plenty of fabulism. I feel like now I can elevate Hamish to a level I didn't achieve before, now that my skills are more mature.

Characters

Hamish Herbert Jr. (you) is a neurotic mess of a man, plagued by PTSD and his own dark thoughts. Eccentric, fascinating, and full of philosophic musings on every facet of life, Hamish is the manic pixie dream boy of his own life.

Horacio Aiza (I) is equally as riddled with PTSD, but chooses to focus instead on Hamish's issues than on solving his own problems. Quiet and reserved, he tempers Hamish's more emotional side while also providing the narration for the story. His nostalgia makes every moment bittersweet.

Genoveva Machado de Herbert is Hamish's mother. She is a stern, no-nonsense woman who cares more about her chances of being reelected for governor than her son.

Hamish Herbert Sr. is dead.

Claude Herbert is Hamish's uncle, along with being Genoveva's accomplice and lover. Though once loved, he is now just as cruel as both of his parents.

Pol Bello is Genoveva's lawyer, friend, and accomplice. He believes himself to be more important than he is.

Ofelia Bello is Hamish's ex-girlfriend. Enigmatic and brilliant, she becomes an ally to Horacio, though she does not seem to have good luck.

Leon Bello is Hamish's ex-boyfriend. He highly distrusts Hamish for cheating on his sister (with him) and has inherited Pol's self-importance.

Playlist

"From Now On We Are Enemies" - Fall Out Boy

Dirty Laundry - Bitter:Sweet

Archive - Mal Blum

Grave Digger - Matt Maeson

Wait - The Dear Hunter

Mama's Gun - Glass Animals

Domestic Bliss - Glass Animals

Excerpt

You scraped your ragged fingernails against my skin, the places where the curling script rested on your own ribs. This is where love comes to die. You’d gotten it, you said, when you were high, when you were sad, when you were remembering what you shouldn’t. I’ve always loved that poem, you said, and now it’s with me forever. “My father— I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle it all.”

Taglist

Ask to be tagged! I'll hopefully be making a few posts about this project.

#wip intro #wip #current wip #writers of tumblr #my writing #writing community #writeblr #writing blog #gothic literature #literary fiction #hamlet #hamish

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denjispinalcordsword · 1 year

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I’ve never connected to poetry (ever!!) and started wondering if it’s because I don’t process emotions quite the same way an allistic person might— I don’t even connect to song lyrics, for me it’s just “does song sound good”. I’ve read many poems people have put up on insta and been shocked that so many people resonated with it…so I was super curious if it’s just a “me thing” or if there’s a bit of a trend….all in good fun, just curious if anyone feels like I do and if it’s maybe connected??

#I have super few followers so probably no one will take this LOL but it’s out there regardless!#autism

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lux-s-mind-com · 1 year

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Purpose of this acc (plus a bit of an introduction)

Hello fellow reader or writer or poet or human, I’m Lux (that’s my pen name). I’m making this acc for a rlly cool idea I found on pinterest and that was to write a diary entry but rlly dramatized like the scene of a book. And to do that every day. So from now on I will use this app that I think was made to blog with these funny tags that make sentences to write my dramatized diary entries. They will probably be mostly fake, so dw if I write sm that sounds like an insane person wrote it, saying they see ghosts or smth. I will also write some random thoughts in here bc it’s fun and that way it feels more like a blog to me.

Now that you know what the inspiration was, why do I need a whole acc for it? Bc I JUST CANT WRITE A DIARY ENTRY EVERY SINGLE DAY. So I will use the internet to put some pressure on me. Thank you for being part of this.

And finally my fav part! Some facts about me:

I love jazz and bossa nova (I’m also half brazillian) and my fav bands are currently Return to Forever and Lamp WE ARE MARRIED IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE TWO ESPECIALLY IF IT’S RETURN TO FOREVER, ONLY OLD PPL KNOW THEM :(

Edit: I also like indie rock and I’m starting to like classic music too, so I just like anything that is instrumental and good

I’m good at latin >:) (and it may stay so if I cut excuses to learn vocabulary)

I’m 15 and genderfluidflux, normally use mirror prns but also others sometimes, I’ll put it in my bio if it changes (google what the things mean if you don’t know) and I’m mixed (brazillian and white, w native american (in brazil, duh) and african roots)

I like the sky a lot, it’s often in my pictures and was in my poem of yesterday :D

I have 3 novel wips (aka just bad involved ideas) for which I still don’t have plot nor the 1st draft (I keep writing poetry or just short texts to avoid them)

Edit: I’m writing on a short story rn and IM ACTUALLY MAKING PROGRESS?? So yeah short stories are dope. I also love poetic use of language aka Shakespeare and good world building aka fantasy and good pacing aka Poe’s short stories

And lastly, I have an insta acc on which I post poems (also for Escapril) and pictures of things I like (not sky-pictures, already posted too many of them and that was a bad phase), so check it out if you’d like to read some poems :P (user: lux_the_poet_of_the_7_seas)

Now I’m gonna go watch Dead Poets Society cuz pinterest has been spamming me w it.

Edit: forgot to add that I love purpur tones but beige tones match me (and the whole poet/writer thing) more, plus I also like beige tones

#writer community #queer writers #im new to tumblr #diary blog #return to forever #lamp band #jazz #dead poet society #thoughts #poem #write #introducing myself #writer positivity #napowrimo #escapril #writer society #writing acc #writerbr

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knotwerk · 1 year

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i've been wanting to read more poetry since being cracked open in the most beautiful way by all of your poem choices in proper hydration. i've already added tc tolbert, ellen bass, and timothy liu to my list but i want moreee. if you could recommend any three books of poetry to someone, what would they be? (three is an entirely arbitrary number feel free to share as many or as few as you like) <3

HOLY SHIT THANK YOU FOR ASKING A:LKSDJF

I described in a previous post how I typically find my reading, so here’s a crop of my all-time personal favorite collections, or at least the ones that immediately come to mind. And while I have faves based on moods/vibes, these transcend regardless of what mood I’m in or after.

Too Bright to See & Alma by Linda Gregg. Holy shit, buckle up. I’d been reading poetry for about a year when I encountered this book thanks to a post from the poetryisnotaluxury insta and it blew my socks out of my Birkenstocks. It’s Linda Gregg’s first two books (1981 & 1985), reprinted in one volume. Short, declarative sentences grab you by the shoulders and force you to reckon with the emotion she’s conveying with sparse but clear language and imagery. I had to, like, pause my poetry reading for a few days after reading this to let it swim around in my being. Could only read one or two of her poems at bedtime rather than my usual inadvertent five or seven (or 10, oops, knotwerk, go to sleep). Here’s the first poem in the collection: We Manage Most When We Manage Small

Kingdom Animalia by Aracelis Girmay, which includes this banger—if there were some kind of counter for how many times I’ve read a poem, this one would definitely be in my top 5: Elegy

Time Is A Mother by Ocean Vuong. *rolls up sleeves* Okay, so: everything Ocean Vuong has done, ever. OMFG. I started with Night Sky with Exit Wounds, and then read On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous and my brainheart exploded. And then I listened to as many interviews as I could and got more insight into life art creativity writing than I thought possible from a single source. There was a span of time (early 2022; the months preceding the drop of OFMD S1 actually) where I had immersed myself so much in Ocean Vuong work that he appeared in my dreams. I had this one dream where I was wearing a mint green football jersey with OCEAN VUONG on the back in neon pink letters. I’m that kind of fan. And this particular collection—this is a writer at the top of his game, leaving it all on the field. Highly recommend getting acquainted with his bio & his preceding work first so you can get a sense for the context of this absolute brilliance.

Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals by Alexis Pauline Gumbs. OK, this is a hybrid work; prose-poem-y pieces that started out as posts on her Instagram. I want a t-shirt that says “I was there when Alexis Pauline Gumbs started posting the pieces on Instagram that became Undrowned” because I like remember where I was whenever I read a new post—I was like HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT LOOK WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH WORDS I HAVE TO LAY DOWN. And here it all is in a book and it’s amazing.

Other fave writers (off the top of my head, certainly forgetting some who are important to meee) who totally have collections that should be on this list but if I don’t stop now we’ll be here for weeks:

CA Conrad

Cameron Awkward-Rich

Ross Gay

Louise Erdrich

Ada Limón

Naomi Shihab Nye

George Abraham

Also, my favorite Neruda is Extravagaria. 🌊

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING I LOVE YOU

#poetry #poetry 🤝 fanfic

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fishnets-fingers · 2 years

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Harry’s House - Album Review

A review from two tumblr moots - Maya [ @fishnets-fingers ] and Aprajita [ @0oolookitsme ]. While Aprajita listened to the album when it came out, Maya bit the bullet and listened to the leaks a week before the release. We’ve put down our thoughts for each track, we wrote an album review with a rating, and ranked it with the older albums in Harry’s discography.

1. Music For a Sushi Restaurant

M- Weird. But I love the way it sounds. Definitely the right opening track. The horns - I LOVE. It really threw me off because this is not the type of music I was expecting from him but I’m not complaining if the whole album is gonna be like this. It’s cause I love you babe. Every kind of way. Just a little taste. You know I love you babe. These lyrics are my favourite.

A- I literally laughed when I focused on the lyrics. Like, this song is so goddamn fun, could be played in a club too maybe, or just depressed and tipsy students could dance to this during parties. And when the ‘aah’ goes from low to high, just makes me clench my eyes cause it just feels so good! + The moment I heard: scooby do bo, I was like yas king! (literally obsessed with this song these past two days)

2. Late Night Talking

M- The Coachella song. Didn’t like it when it was performed but it definitely grew on me. I LOVE the chorus. Very cute premise of staying up and talking with the one you are currently infatuated with. Nothing very remarkable about it for me.

A- There would be rare moments in my life when I’d want to play this song, but those moments will be just perfect. Defo the one I’ll skip sometimes. But when he tunes the words before the “If you feeling dow…”, is the reason this song is playing continuously in my head, and not to forget the 12..34..56 kinda chorus. This one kinda gives me the vibes of when the whites are on a car ride during summers, yanno?

3. Grapejuice

M- The whispered one two three from Harry in my ears really invaded my personal bubble. HELLO ASMR KING LMAO. Very eh for me… I’m very curious to see how he’d perform this live (I’m picturing he sits down on stage). The crooning chorus was divine. I feel like the only way I’d appreciate this song to its fullest when it’s being played is on a long road trip and it’s super dark outside - with patches of light pouring in through the streetlight - and everyone in the car is asleep and it’s eerily quiet, except for the whir of the car.

A- The 123 really did catch me off-guard cause you know, I didn’t expect his voice to be so low and raspy. I’m not THAT infatuated with this song but I just know I’ll probably grow on this song when I’ll start going on walks during the afternoon or late mornings, cause I’d defo play it at that moment.

4. As It Was

M- Sweet sweet as it was. Harry’s pumped up kicks era. It’s a nice reminder to know that he’s just as messed up as the rest of us. I loved it when it came out but I’m tired of this song, to be honest. It’s overplayed - it’s on every other story/ reel/ post/ video on instagram - and I’m ready to move on.

A- This song is chef's kiss and because I don’t see this song on Insta that much, I don’t think I’ll ever skip this song. Like.. I could hear this song in whatever mood I’m in, literally.

5. Daylight

M- My little gem. I absolutely love this. It’s this album’s Golden. I have a feeling that this was written super late at night. Or at least that’s the vibe I’m getting. The ooh in the chorus is the best part. Wished this would go on for a whole ten minutes… sigh.

A- I’ve been listening to this one a lot lately. Like, 's the best song so far. I love the poetry kinda vibes from the lyrics and the music is>> Like this instantly made it to my faves. I can’t -and won’t- stop listening to this literal gem.

6. Little Freak

M- Mayhaps we’ve got ourselves another Complicated Freak on our hands? Oh how wrong I was, expecting it to go a very different route. Still don’t know how to feel about this… I feel like this is

the song in the album that I’d skip and suddenly listen to it in a few months and mentally curse myself for not appreciating it a bit sooner and have it on repeat.

A- His voice… omg. This song is the ‘Cherry’ of this album. He sounds so vulnerable! Like I can imagine his nose getting slightly pink because of the chilly atmosphere while listening to this one. I expected this one to be a sex song so I wasn’t ready. All I know is that I’m ready to see this on my ‘on repeat’ playlist on Spotify. “You never saw my birthmark..” …and I LOST it.

7. Matilda

M- It’s very sweet. I got very emotional listening to it. I love the perspective he took while writing it. Not a skip. It has a place in my heart.

A- I love the tears I had in my eyes while listening to this song as I was alone in the kitchen, sitting on the slab and preparing myself tea. The fact that I read the novel this song has been inherited from just makes it so much more meaningful to me cause you see, I read that story when I was 11 or 12. Don’t even be surprised if you see me listening to this one while having a breakdown in the bathroom.

8. Cinema

M- I think this is the most different out of all the songs in the album. Love the way he says cool. Definitely going into my horny playlist. Don’t like the bridge that much though. Bit too long in my opinion.

A- After 2 emotional songs, this changed my mood in a snap of fingers. Like my mood doesn’t change this quickly when I’m on my periods mate. I might skip this one sometimes, though.

9. Daydreaming

M- Absolutely loved all three minutes and seven seconds of this. Very dancey. I could totally see myself convincing people to start a conga line when this song starts at parties. I saw a post that said Taylor Swift’s exes are making music together and sign me up if it’s gonna give us more bops like this.

A- Literally can see myself dance-walking to this song. Like, I’ll be dancing like some old but active and fit old man to this song lmao.

10. Keep Driving

M- This is hands down my favourite song on the album. It’s super airy and his voice sounds beautiful. Had this on repeat for days now. Side boob, cocaine, choke her with a sea view, edibles, puff pass - Harry what in the name of debauchery. It’s my favourite of all the bridges. Only can pepper in shit like in a sweet sounding sound.

A- I agree so much with your review. I can see myself humming this song out of the blue. That’s literally what I’ve been doing since today morning so-. Love this song. Can listen to this song on any type of car drive. But this song is either made to be heard super early in the morning, or on a chilly evening. But there's hustle-bustle around during both the times.

11. Satellite

M- I expected this to sound similar to cinema but it’s not. It’s giving me a very Jonas Brothers vibe. Very forgetful for me. Don’t particularly like it.

A- I kinda like this song. Like, really like this song hahah. He did a few innovations with this one but honestly, I love ‘em.

12. Boyfriends

M- Boring. It’s a sweet song but it’s the one song I dislike on the album. Hate me all you want but it’s a guaranteed skip from me.

A- This song- hmm, I think I’ll only listen to this when I’m feeling the loneliest. Like this song digs a pit in my chest, at least it feels so. I’ll be scared to listen to this song most of the time so I don't know how often will I let it play.

13. Love Of My Life

M- Shoot me in the face, this was so beautiful and vulnerable. The synth was just chef’s kiss. It’s unfortunate, just coordinates, keep echoing in my head for some reason. All in all, such a lovely way to sign off.

A- The piano in the end is what broke the dam.

Final Review & Rating:

M- Lyrically not his best. I think Fine Line was the best lyrically. It’s much more ambiguous than what he used to write - much more ambiguous than what it used to be. It’s giving me a lot of similarities to Bon Iver but he’s just not on par yet (sorry Harry and the writing team). Sonically, I absolutely love it. Super different and playful. Groovy. Jazzy. Disco. It’s the best sound he’s ever put out. It’s still at the bottom and this is just my first impression but albums usually take time to grow on me and who knows maybe in three months, I have a feeling it will knock his first album to the bottom of my list. 7/10.

A- I’m really starting to grow on this album now, but it still sits at the bottom for me. The more I play, the deeper I find it so I have a feeling that this might take the position of his self-titled album by the end of this year… I’ll give this album an 8.5/10 :)

Ranking:

M- Fine Line for me still is on the throne. Followed by his first album and then very closely, followed by Harry’s House.

A- Fine Line > Harry Styles > Harry’s House.

#harrystyles #harry styles #harry's house #hs3 #hs3 era #album review #thank you for joining in on me with this my sweet sweet aprajita

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itscodyelliot · 4 months

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NoSo - Stay Proud of Me (2022)

Favorite tracks:

- David - Honey Understand - Feeling Like a Woman Lately - Everything I’ve Got

In their first album, NoSo showcases deeply personal poetry underscored by lofi synth pop and gorgeous fingerstyle guitar. Their music feels like lying in the grass on a summer’s day. I don’t know how to describe it better. It’s very good. Very calming. Very honest. Very cathartic.

One thing that I really appreciate about this album is how real the music feels. There’s a gentle energy to it that I don’t hear a lot in more typical radio hits. This is aided by the flowery lyrics, which talk about personal experiences with race, gender, body image, love, and loss. A lot of their lyrics are deeply relatable to me as well, which of course makes me biased towards them, but I think that’s a point in NoSo’s favor. You can tell that they care a whole lot about their art, and it shows beautifully.

Show NoSo some support: Insta Spotify YouTube

#noso #stay proud of me #noso stay proud of me #lgbtq #enby #nonbinary #transmasc #musicians #indie music #indie pop #albums #album recommendation #album review #Spotify

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yourlittlesol · 5 months

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January 1, 2024: Day 1 of 366

Today marks the first day of a leap year. However, I find it odd to feel ambivalent looking back, thinking that I miss some things I used to do or the way circumstances roll away for the past months and/or year. Dealing with new things is not my best suit, but I got to move forward because things are not gonna be the same again nor am I gonna experience the same ones twice – it’ll always be different one way or the other.

Hoisting the sail, I’m going to map out some resolutions, stemming from the ropes I came unknotting across.

1. I’ll journal more – place the dates and time so that I’ll better remember instances when I read back at the end of the year.

2. Insta less during days off – take my phone off, soc med detox even for just a day when I'm away from work.

3. Eat proper meals at the proper time – stop skipping breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, and snacks. HEALTHY snacks.

4. Life doesn’t end at 24, 25, 26 or 30 – I’m not that young anymore nor old. Kinda in the middle. Though I sort of feel like I have to figure everything out as soon as I turn 20, I’m coming to the realization that setting goals should not be a ticking time bomb to pressure myself to be big or be something else at a certain age. I should trust God’s timing more instead.

5. Smile more – while my everyday requires moving at a fast pace, it’s best to schedule a minute to slow down, laugh, and smile widely.

6. More time with family – I'm busy but my grandparents are getting older as well. Be on the loop of their meds and check ups. It’s not that hard, but if it becomes overwhelming, ask for help.

7. Ask for help - there’s nothing to be ashamed of seeking for one. Of course I gotta be on top of everything, be responsible and accountable.

8. Write well – poetries, prose, and blog. I’ve still got a lot of rough edges to polish. Writing should be more than just a habit, it’ll be best to improve with it as a part of my work.

9. Don’t kneecap words – I should be more straightforward. Gentle, firm, yet kind. When I need to say something. Speak up. Step forward.

10. Focus and prioritize God – my first strength should be with Him. Praying and reading the Word. My day should also end with Him. No matter how busy, happy, or sad I am.

11. Never cease to pray for something – God is never unjust to forget my hard work and prayers. All His promises are “yes and amen.” If things seem different than what I’ve been asking for, I have to remember that He knows my heart best.

12. Actions are not necessarily louder than words – the two should be intertwined as to prevent misinterpretation.

13. Never assume – remove presumptions (good or bad). As mentioned, words should accompany actions.Unless there is a clear confirmation, I should take any action as is.

14. Dream BIG – aim to follow God’s calling. Pray for it eagerly. Skillfully and joyfully obey.

15. Take lots of photos – as they say, “photos are memories in a captured momentum.”

16. Lastly (as of now), be more sensitive – if someone gets interrupted or left out in a conversation, include that person. Be the reason someone gets passionate and empowered about something.

2024’s not gonna be smooth sailing. I’m sure of that, but there will always be joy in it and stuff to learn and grow from. 366 days to row ahead!

🌻Sol

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onlyswan · 1 year

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i don’t think I’ve ever come across a writer who’s able to comfort me like you do !! and I’ve been reading books and fanfiction for like over half a decade 😭😭😭 like I’ve never felt happier and safer than when I read ur drabbles youre honestly truly gifted if one day u decide to make a book I will literally buy 100 copies I’m so glad I found ur acc <3 also do u have insta random but just wanna know 😭😭

oh my god don’t make me cry 😭😭😭 you have no idea how happy this made me thank you soooo much !! 💗

hehe my lifelong dream has always been to publish a book of poetry prose and essays. hopefully someday <3 🫣

and i only have a personal insta 🥺

#art’s mailbox

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manicdreams · 3 years

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I want to put it out there that I don’t hate Rupi Kaur. I just personally don’t like her poetry, it doesn’t mean I hate her. I sometimes feel like Nayyirah Waheed is overlooked because her poetry is clearly catered towards black readers. Rupi’s poems can easily be digested by a white feminist audience. This isn’t me trying to hate but pointing out the obvious. Waheed’s book came out before Kaur’s. If anything, Nayyirah should get more credit for inspiring insta poetry than Rupi taking all the glory. Even though it wasn’t directly plagiarized, but she did state she was inspired by Nayyirah and wrote her book. The poems have similar themes/ideas. (Not sure if any were directly plagiarized so please do not get angry with me). These are things that I personally read up on. Here are my thoughts, take them as you will.

#rupi kuar #nayyirah waheed #poetry #milk and honey #the sun and her flowers #salt #Nejma #insta poetry #my thoughts #opinions #I personally don’t like insta poetry #But I will say what I have to say

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grievingchild · 2 years

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SHE WAS THE KIND OF GIRLFRIEND GOD GIVES YOU YOUNG. SO YOU’LL KNOW LOSS FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

—————————————————————

hi i’m doing a pinned post thing 🌹🦋

i don’t really like me

i have a million side blogs, yes it’s just me reblogging all of your posts 🦂 ♏️

♡ personal posts / my writing | nosy? body parts 👁👄👁

thirty-one years old / black / (she/her or something)/ poly / partnered / midwest (usa) / bpd / bipolar 2 / c-ptsd / anxiety / ednos / queer af. (homoromantic: i.e. i mostly like women.) human. guilty. cats, nicotine, poetry, and caffeine.

ps i would die for my mutuals ⚔️

straight men dni poetry insta: esseapoetry

#me #about me #sorry nobody cares but i just like how the pins look on other peoples blogs haha #i’ll prob change this two hundred times

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homoeroticsubplot · 2 years

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Who the Fuck is Homoeroticsubplot?

A guided tour

That’s a great question and one I’m still trying to answer myself, honestly. But I can tell you what the fuck this blog is supposed to be!

I’m a writer who sometimes practices with fic and posts what I think is coherent enough. This blog is a resource for me to go through tags when I hit a block or share extra tidbits upon request. It’s for me, but I enjoy getting to interact with readers when they come by.

I used to write a lot circa 2016-19, but then I went on a hiatus to focus on life a few months before everything shut down with Covid. I wrote predominately for Wynonna Earp, the 100, and some miscellaneous ships here and there, but they were so dull and unoriginal, and I have grown so much as a writer and person since then that I have deleted all proof of their existence from my Drive and from the little pieces across the internet. So it goes. Here’s what I’m doing now

(italics designates a link to the post I made about it, which links to the fic on AO3; brackets designates the fic tag; the fic named first is the original, anything linked with a “+” is a sequel, prequel, or addendum in that universe):

Woso

Room on Fire + Forevermore [Ronnett]

The Best of Me Left Hours Ago [So’hara]

And Every Winter the Same [Ronnett; WIP]

Crazy Rich Homosexuals [Ronnett/Preath/Kellex; WIP]

Of Wolves and Thorns [Ronnett; WIP]

The Miles We Shared Between [Ronnett/Preath; WIP]

Untitled Summer Camp AU + Preath-centric prequel [Ronnett/Preath; WIP]

The Wilds

The Majors + Leatin Sequel [Shoni/Leatin]

ALOTO

[Jess genderqueer Smut Fic] (I am begging they get a love interest in s2 so I can write this and it’s only here because I’m resorting to manifestation, sorry!)

NOTE: All works with rpf/real people implicated are LOCKED! You won’t be able to see them unless you have an account! This isn’t because of any espouse on morals or shit, it’s just because I don’t want them to pop up on Google. Purely fictitious fandoms are unlocked.

Other Tags to Know:

w (words/poetry that may or may not pertain to a fic)

art (self-explanatory: paintings, sculptures, film, the visual medium, etc.)

literature (something that is neither poetry nor fic-centric, and probably about books)

mine (anything made by me, whether it be a fic or a board or whatever)

me stuff (stuff that pertains to my personal work, NOT a fic)

The painting in my header was done by Zhiyong Jing (his Insta, his store); my pfp is a piece titled Tracers by artist Jenna Barton, who also goes by the username Dappermouth (her Insta, her store, this print)

Feel free to drop by my inbox if you want to chat, or if you want to ask me questions specific to what I’ve written; I really like the “give me a snippet and I’ll give you the commentary of how I wrote it”/Notes on a Scene format, or, of course, if a certain piece made you feel seen or included, that’s immensely gratifying to hear.

Please understand that I am a borderline Luddite and I do not know how to work any website, much less this one! I am learning as I go but I am really really bad at it! I will update this post as things develop, are named, whatever. All the same, thanks for dropping by. Take care of yourselves :)

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 3

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Peter always unapologetically stealing all the uwus. It’s the MCU law, sorry, didn’t make it. Tony Stark can ✨rail me✨. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves THE WORLD! I’m not kidding. Please visit her and show her some love, my homegirl is stressed 💖✨

I didn’t see Bruce nor Tony for a week. The doctor was away on some science conference (he sent me one dorky selfie next to a whiteboard full of barely intelligible equations as proof), Tony was in California, having some sort of a board meeting. How do I know? Peter, out of lack of better things to do, constantly texted me updates on his science patron’s whereabouts and what-abouts.

In times like these, it took me for a loop - I was on a first name basis with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. In the beginning, I was intimidated - I avoided them both like the plague and tinkered in the lab with headphones on whenever I could, until Tony made a comment so snarky I couldn’t resist joking back. That’s not to say Bruce was a social butterfly, but even he gave into my tomfoolery after seeing me stand calmly throughout several of Tony’s hissy fits.

What amazed me even more so was that despite Tony being literally an insufferable little brat, I still longed after him. Sure, the man was hot as hell - but his physical traits were much less significant when it came to my feelings towards him than the amount of sheer drive and willpower he possessed. He was stubborn - that’s another trait we shared - and unapologetically himself in every damn situation.

I could write poetry about the million expressions in his face, about the shine in his eyes.

But I won’t. He’s a technical guru. Ever since I started hanging around the tower, I became much more conscious about what I posted online. Not to say I had a Stark fan blog or anything, but I’d stopped scrolling through the tag, even if I didn’t actually click on any articles. I dutifully reblogged pictures of Tom Ellis instead - while he was a very fine, distinguished man, he wasn’t Tony Stark. I enjoyed looking at the first and enjoyed being around the other. And even though my feed still had the occasional “I love arm” shitpost, I focused on aesthetic pictures and quotes instead - things I had an active internet presence for.

My personal life wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t have any close friends and any and all sex I’ve had was just a bunch of one night stands, fueled by alcohol, selfish lust and the occasional joint. Despite having a fair share of kind, generous lovers, the morning after left me feeling a little bit emptier every time. I thought about getting a boyfriend or something… But quickly became totally clueless as to where I could find one. Men under twenty-five could barely hold my interest long enough to have a casual chat and I wasn’t naive enough to think there were a lot of honest, well-intentioned thirty-somethings that wanted to date my high school ass.

Peter had a crush on me, I knew that. The boy developed one or another kind of feelings for anybody who showed him the tiniest bit of kindness and it alarmed me. In any other case I would have bailed on him, gently, of course, to spare him the disappointment but my selfishness got in the way. I regretted it every day. A wave of desperation rose in me every time I thought about moving on without seeing Tony or Bruce, without Peter shyly smiling at me as he explained how the things he created worked. A faint hope that one day, his schoolboy puppy love will grow into a brotherly kind of regard was the only thing that kept me afloat in my sea of guilt.

As the Fall rolled around, so did my gloomy mood. It was hard to be sad when the sun was shining and the birds were chirping outside, but with clouds hanging over the city like a lead curtain, the bottled up negativity rose to the surface uninvited. Mother had returned from her business trip, adding an uncomfortable, hollow sort of chill to the house wherever she stood. I don’t know what was worse - the hours we spent in one room ignoring each other or the immaculately structured questions she asked me about my studies and extra-curriculars. Mother didn’t ask me about my friends, or my feelings or any of the other things a mother was supposed to give a damn about.

I was an asset to her company and that was that. If you would have asked her, she would tell you I’m old enough for her to mind her own business - which was technically true. Yet according to her, I’ve been old enough since seventh grade. My dad answered his messages sporadically, sometimes with a two-word answer and sometimes with a cocaine and booze fueled rant eleven texts long. I felt sorry for him. I really did.

My phone was blowing up. Party invitations, likes from people I saw once or twice (“oh my god, you’re, like, so hot, what’s your Insta”), DMs from guys looking to score an easy piece of ass. I never answered. If I wanted to party, I just sort of showed up and everybody went along with it. I took care of my appearance and it showed - never once was I turned away from a party. Everyone wanted to dance, to share their drinks, to light up and get faded together and fade into the city, into the cold air and grey sky.

Skirt swaying and top clinging to my chest, I danced. The sweaty, heated bodies around me did the same. Not one of us cared, it was a Tuesday night and the place packed way too many people. An arm snaked around my waist, startling me. I had to begrudgingly crack open an eye to see the bastard in the dimly lit room.

“I saw you at the bar, you looked bored. Maybe you need something to cheer you up?”

So not a creepy rapist. Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer. At house parties like these, there was always The Guy. He never danced, he sipped on the same drink all night yet always looked like he was having the time of his life. I was no stranger to the occasional joint, or even something more stimulating…

“I got the good stuff, sweetums, you’ll be fine and dandy in no time.”

Eh, what the hell. I inconspicuously danced with the guy to the middle of the crowd, exchanging a few crumpled dollar notes for a baggie of two pills. In no time, I chased one down with a hastily poured Jack.

The world did become better, as the drug dealer promised. People were nicer, friendlier and I almost didn’t believe mother was a useless, stone cold bitch. I almost didn’t care that I was deeply, madly in love with a man as unreachable as Olympus. If I squinted, the guy sitting at the bar looked kind of like Tony, tan, dark hair, worn jeans and a band tee.

So I danced. I danced and I stared right at him and then we danced some more. I closed my eyes, letting his arms grab me and pull me, I let his beard scratch my neck where he sucked a mark on me, I let his rough palms choke me against a wall in one of the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. It felt good to be wanted. It felt great to be needed as he rutted inside of me, hitting that sweet spot with every twitch of his hips.

It felt lonely when he left, pressing a kiss to my forehead and saying something dumb like “Be good, kid.”. I don’t remember what exactly it was, only that I had to turn my face away from his breath that reeked like weed and vodka.

To shake off the void that made home inside of my chest, I went to the roof to get some fresh air. The house had a nice patio on it - I actually knew the owner - that hosted more plants than I’d care to count. There was an ashtray and an abandoned pack of cigarettes. I greeted the faintly blooming sunrise surrounded by a cloud of smoke, shivering in the autumn mist.

Sounds of the party became less prominent with every passing minute as people geared up to go home and get a few winks of sleep before going to work. New Yorkers weren’t really thoughtful partying on a Tuesday, but then again, neither was I. The city always was busy - even then, at the crack of dawn, the dull throb of a bassline was rudely interrupted by a blaring car alarm followed by dogs barking in aggravation.

The more I sat there, the bleaker everything became. I had enough common sense to know I was just coming off the drug but for once, I had been happy and content for several hours without a care in the world. It had been too long since I felt that way and what’s a little low after a good high?

Mother left for her early conference at five AM sharp, I entered my house at five-thirty, making a beeline in the shower and immediately dumping my alcohol and cigarette soaked clothes into the wash with the smelliest detergent I could find. I gave similar treatment to my body and my hair, using the chemically-smelling products on my body and on my hair, brushing my teeth multiple times.

By the time I was leaving for school, only a faint smell lingered in the air where I’d previously entered, so I set the air freshener to automatically spray the obnoxious mist every ten minutes. Mother gets home at twelve for lunch, that should be more than enough time for any remnants of my partying to disappear into the lilac and lavender fumes.

The Valium I’d popped to deal with the aftermath of Molly made my brain sluggish. One look in the mirror and I hastily put my sunglasses on - the ashen colour of my face and the slightly crazed look wasn’t very complimentary to my complexion. The teacher didn’t give a damn. I stared blankly ahead of me for most part of first period.

“What happened to you? You look like hell!” Peter’s exclamation, while usually would’ve alarmed me, barely made a dent in my stupor.

“I feel like shit, too,” Admit what you can’t deny. Deny what you can’t admit. “I didn’t get any sleep. Like, at all.”

Peter frowned, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper with every passing second. I flinched when his hand tentatively touched my forehead - the pounding in my temples slowed to a dull throbbing but it was still unpleasant when someone was all up in my space.

“Jesus, you’re as cold as a corpse. Maybe you should go see the nurse,” His worry bled into me too. Like hell I was going to the school nurse! They were specifically trained to recognize the signs of substance abuse.

“I’ll head home straight after school, I think we’ll have to skip our sciencing,” No way also I’d be letting Tony and Bruce see me like this. Oh my God, I was a mess. “Mother’s home.” I added. Even the emotional frostbite I’d get from being around her was more tolerable than being a downer for Peter and Tony.

Peter’s face immediately softened in sympathy. He knew almost everything about my relationship with my family, including him actually seeing my mother that one time. He told me she gave him the creeps and I don’t blame him at all. The stoicism that was required for her work made my mother an unbearable person to exist around outside of her fancy office on the top floor of a glass high-rise building.

“Okay, but promise to text me if it gets worse. You might have caught the autumn bug that’s been going around,” He obviously said the last part to calm himself down. Sweet little Peter, naïve child. I solemnly nodded nonetheless.

When I got home, I went straight to bed. Tony was being Tony, as usual, but in a strangely kind way. I suppose it should’ve made me feel better and it kind of did, but then it went downhill from there. I couldn’t explain why I started crying. I bawled my eyes out at how unfair this god-damned world was and when the doorbell rang… Let’s say, the delivery boy hightailed it out of there once the bag of takeout was deposited into my arms. I looked and felt ghastly.

I ate as much as I could and dropped into a restless nap, drifting in and out of sleep with exhausted exasperation. There had not been a time where I felt so low after popping a pill and I was equal parts alarmed and satisfied. For one, the drug dealer didn’t lie like they usually do - the stuff was good and I still had the other pill hidden away in a bottle of painkillers, inconspicuously mixed with other white pills but shape distinctive enough for me to recognize should I have need in taking it again.

The thought of well, taking it again, was fleeting. I had school tomorrow and a missed science bender to make up for. A few buzzes of my phone later, I felt happier. Better. Not so down anymore. I meant every word that I said - Bruce was very precious, kind and gentle. And so, warm and soft. And totally kissable.

Well, fuck. What do I do now?

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #I've already got a room in Hell y'all welcome to book one nearby

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hms-chill · 3 years

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Hii! I see you've read RWRB (which means you obviously have impeccable taste) and was wondering if you could recommend any more LGBTQ+ books? Thank you!!

OH MY GOD I HAVE SO MANY!! It really depends on what genre you’re interested in and what you like; I’ll sort of try to break it down that way (and not just rec every gay book I’ve ever read lmao)

General fiction:

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz is about two Mexican boys growing up in El Paso in the late 1980s and the writing style is absolutely incredible. It was the first Gay Book(tm) I remember and I spent months of 2012-2013 trying to find a copy and it was 100% worth it.

Simon Vs. the Homo Sapien Agenda by Becky Albertalli. We know it, we love it, I wanted to include it anyway.

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzie Lee is a historical fiction (leaning on fantasy) romp about a boy in the 18th century going on his grand tour with the best friend he’s in love with; the sequel stars his aro/ace sister. Bi lead, Black gay love interest, and a sequel about the importance of girl friendships.

I’m on page four of Gail Wilhelm’s Torchlight to Valhalla but I love the writing style and the fact that it’s a lesbian book from 1938 that apparently ends happily almost made me cry so there’s that.

anything by Virginia Woolf, but especially Orlando, which is a love letter to her girlfriend.

Soft Place to Fall by Ba Tortuga is a fun gay cowboy romance; it’s dumb and sappy and predictable and fantastic.

Sci-Fi / Fantasy

THIS IS WHERE I THRIVE this is my wheelhouse so sorry if I get carried away lol

anything by Sarah Gailey. Their Upright Women Wanted is about queer librarian spies in a futuristic wild west. The American Hippo series (River of Teeth and Taste of Marrow) is about queer hippo wranglers in an alternate 19th century. Magic for Liars is a murder mystery set in a magic school, perfect if you’re trying to ditch She Who Must Not Be Named but still want your fun magic school itch scratched.

Nottingham by Anna Burke is a lesbian retelling of Robin Hood; I’m still working through it but I’m pretty sure all the merry men are queer women and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas is absolutely fantastic; it’s got an entirely Latinx cast with a trans lead and a ghost love interest; 15/10 almost made me cry.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo has that casual queer rep that I absolutely adore. Like yeah sometimes you need a book about Being Queer but sometimes you also need a heist where the badass gunslinger casually goes “oh yeah not just girls” and steals a tank, you know?

This is very I’m A Child Of The Late 90s/ Early 2000s but Tamora Pierce was huge for me growing up. She clearly stuffed as many queer characters into her world as publishers would let her, and recently she’s confirmed fan theories about even more queerness (ace/aro characters, trans readings, etc) in her work.

Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness was published in 1969 and treats gender as a fluid thing; I haven’t read it yet but it’s on my bedside table and I’m very excited to get to it.

Poetry

all of it straight people don’t get poems

Badger Clark was a gay cowboy poet; I love his stuff so much. “The Westerner” made me absolutely feral and “Others” gutted me.

Wilfred Owen is best known for his work about WWI, but “Maundy Thursday” and “How Do I Love Thee” are absolutely incredible.

Whitman wrote poems about being gay and was one of the more iconic queer voices of the 19th century, at least in literary circles.

Byron was an icon and also incredibly queer.

Sappho is the iconic one; Anne Carson’s translation of her work (If Not, Winter) is fantastic and the one I’d personally recommend.

Classics

If you’re down to read between the lines do I have some books for you

Stoker was gay (and wrote thirsty letters to Whitman), and no one can convince me that Dracula is a straight book. Arthur and Quincey were dating thank you for coming to my TEDx talk.

The Iliad is long and complex but also Achilles and Patroclus wanted their ashes mixed when they died (fellas...)

anything by Wilde but especially A Portrait of Dorian Gray.

Les Miserables has a character who “admired, loved, and venerated” another man, and who “took great care not to believe in anything” but said other man (fellas...). There’s also an entire page about how the lead has never felt any form of love other than familial (fellas... is it aro to spend a whole page talking about how you’ve never loved anyone).

I haven’t read Moby Dick but I know there’s like three pages about how much the narrator loves his crewmate (fellas...)

Nonfiction

A lot of people are scared of nonfic but I’m gonna let you in on a secret: you don’t have to read the whole book. Pick and choose chapters that interest you, put it down for a year, whatever. Nonfic’ll be there for you.

Portrait of a Marriage by Nigel Nicolson is a look into his parents’ open relationship and his mother’s relationship with Virginia Woolf; it’s a gorgeous exploration of the various ways that love and marriage can be flexible and it changed how I look at relationships.

A Queer History of the United States by Michael Bronski is a good intro to queer history.

We Are Everywhere by Matthew Riemer and Leighton Brown is a great look at the Stonewall Era and the time after especially, and it’s full of incredible pictures. They also run @/lgbt_history on insta and 10/10 for that.

Love and Resistance: Out of the Closet and Into the Stonewall Era by Jason Baumann is fantastic too; it’s got pictures and short descriptions of what’s happening in them. Maybe not a first place, but if you know the general scope of the queer rights movement it’s a fantastic thing (or if you don’t and you’re ready to google lmao).

My Dear Boy or anything else by Rictor Norton is incredible. My Dear Boy is a collection of gay love letters; he’s also got books on queer culture in 18th century London and queering the Gothic. You can find a lot of his stuff online here and My Dear Boy specifically here.

If you want more/ something more specific, don’t hesitate!! I work in a library and I’m always finding new gay stuff and I love it.

#i wrote this in two sittings because i had a lot of ideas lmao #and i'm sure i'll come up with more soon #but i love talking about gay lit and i have so many recs #so if you want something more specific let me know #not fic #ask and answer #hannah's recs

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