Figure Skating Au 🧊⛸️

Afterlife Shenanigans

um

@thebitchyslytherin consider this a warning

Writing is not always writing.

Writing is being on the train and mentally seeing your OCs stumble into other people, or flinching away from the germ-ridden handrails, or sleeping on each others’ shoulders.

Writing is hearing a song on the radio and watching one of your scenes play out to the lyrics.

Writing is laying on your floor or sitting by your computer and spending hours collaging newspaper clippings or pictures or people or plants together and making something that is completely, uniquely, your story.

Writing is drawing your characters in your notebooks, and making tea only your one, picky character would drink, and writing an open letter to all your characters just to remind them you love them.

Writing is moodboards, and playlists, and crafts, and asks, and prompts, and pictures, and memories, and you.

So never think that just because you’re not putting words on a page, you’re not a real writer. Writing is something that follows you everywhere, beyond the word document, and beyond the screen.

Because writing isn’t something you do. It’s something you are.

There’s something horrifyingly beautiful about Tess’s final moments. In the midst of the most dire chaos, as she waits for her death to come rushing past so she can blow it sky high and give cordyceps a big fuck you one last time, one of the infected stops. It looks at her, really looks. Her own mortality is personified in this infected. It’s death that’s looking at her, and it sees her. She looks her own death in the eye, and the suspense is so high as it approaches. But then, it doesn’t bite her throat out like we all expect it to.

It kisses her. What’s more, it kisses her gently. And I think it was a brilliant choice on the writers part, because it reminded me that the infected aren’t supposed to be evil. Sure, they’re scary as hell, but really, they’re just trying to survive. They’re connected to one another, they can feel each other from miles away. They seek out and want to be close to their own kind, just like the human survivors do. And when they do find each other, they kiss hello.

And after so long apart from a loved one, someone you know and trust with every instinct in your body, wouldn’t you want to kiss them too?

just wanted to take a hot second to point out that the fingers ellie loses in part two were the fingers she held at the end of part one

nearly every character pedro pascal plays is like a charismatic intimidating figure with some sort of skill in combat meanwhile every photo i see of that man irl has this energy 

My brain when I’m in front of a blank page: I cannot write. I have never seen a word in my entire life. What the fuck even is a sentence?

My brain while I’m trying to fall asleep: I have ascended and become a literary god. I will now paint you a vivid daydream using the best descriptors and words that flow like fresh rainwater. Bet you wish you could write this all down, huh? Bet you’ll forget in the morning, huh? Bitch.

bitches b like ‘hes my right hand man’ JUST SAY HES YOUR BEST FRIEND . SAY ITTTTTT

reblog this if you think harry james potter is literally anything other than a straight white man