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El(iza)beth

@elizabethtitus.bsky.social

480 followers 450 following 100 posts

professional account of Elizabeth "Iza" K Titus, author main account: @arachnereid.bsky.social Using this profile to repost other writers to the max & not clutter my personal page - I have a lot of interests!

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El(iza)beth @elizabethtitus.bsky.social · 13h

The subgenre #noblebright overthrows the dark lord, saves the world. Arthurian legends. Star Wars. In Tolkien, "Aragorn rather than Frodo and Sam (who are #hopepunk as hell)."
"The work is never finished. The work will never be finished."(Alexandra Rowland)

⬆️ with tempered #hope 🌞🌱

#HopePit Community @hopepit.bsky.social · 3d

Let's spin visions of hope & resilience!

🌞🌱

We hope you can JOIN US Nov 9 for #Hopepit, uplifting all types of media under the big #hopepunk & #clifi ⛱️ umbrellas.
Here on 🦋.

#solarpunk #permaculture #hopecore #hope
#WritingCommunity #GameDev #IndieDev #TTRPG #Comic
#WriteSky #Writers #MusicSky

Flier for #Hopepit
Sunday, Nov 9
community connect Nov 5 - 8

🌞🌱 Let’s elevate hope! 🌱🌞

An inclusive community-building hype event for voices of light & vision in the darkness.

Open to creators of all media telling stories of hope, resilience, sustainability, mindfulness, climate change, & collapse navigation

#Hopepit

🌞Use the #Hopepit hashtag to share your pitches, books, videos, articles, and art

🌱We encourage the use of additional tags, like: #hopepunk, #solarpunk, #clifi, #IndigenousFuturism, etc

🌳Not sure which genre? JOIN US anyway!

🌱We 💛 resource sharing & discussion threads!

@hopepit.bsky.social

climate fiction hopecore hopepunk clifi #Climatefiction nomadpunk solarpunk #solarpunk #hopecore indigenous futurism pitch hype permaculture

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hallowellie maybe 🕷️ @ellie.thecancellations.com · 3h

ngl, would eat. we need more savory cold cereals anyway.

Meme harvested from @faineg.bsky.social

A fake Captain Crunch box that says "Oops All Brassica Oleracea" and features pictures of cauliflower, brussel sprouts, romanesco, kale, cabbage, broccoli, and chard maybe?

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MeliSwenk Editing @lousytshirt.bsky.social · 13h

#WIPSnips from Monah Bk. 1 -- Monah's POV, from the scene where Evlin arrives to convince her to come back home.
#writesky #writingcommunity #queerwriters

Where she’d hesitated before, she thoughtfully touched me now; and in just a few seconds, the hairs on my arm stood straight up. Heat rushed through me, made me feel as if I were on fire, but not burning. Merely glowing. At that exact moment, Joni came back through the kitchen’s threshold and grunted to see us sitting so close together. Evlin’s voice had gotten much softer when Joni vacated the room, and I’d inadvertently gotten closer to hear her. Joni sat next to me, and I nearly pulled back from Evlin’s touch except that, much like a barbed electric fence, I couldn’t; I was stuck in the loop of her power.
“How can you know that?”
“My father worked with your father through the years of crusades that lead up to the war that took you all from us.”
“The king and queen left the Territories, too?” My heart leapt into the back of my throat. Any other words got stuck back there with it.
“Not like you did, Highness; though the hope is coming off of you in waves.”
Evlin’s hand tightened first around my arm, then slipped down to grip the flesh of my wrist. For a second, feeling the beat from her very fingertips, our hearts seemed to move in tandem. Hers speeding up to match mine.
“It is a glorious feeling, hope.”

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🕯️ El(iza)beth 🌬️ 🍁 K 🕸️ T 🕷️ @arachnereid.bsky.social · 14h

Join us to hype #hope and vision for an adaptive future!

#hopepit

"Entropy is real, dams must be maintained. It takes all of us to do it, it’s done by linking arms with the people next to you, by building a community with deliberate intent."
- Alexandra Rowland

🌞🌱

#WIPsnips #WritingCommunity

#HopePit Community @hopepit.bsky.social · 3d

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Racthoh @racthoh.bsky.social · 13h

#WIPSnips Hope. Our hero struggles to recover after his first encounter with one of the antagonists.

Text in the alt.

#WritingCommunity #Writesky

My other weapon was near the shattered hilt, taken from me in my foolish attempt to overpower Tyrinal after he revealed his true strength. I pushed myself off from the ground, crawling towards the sword. Weakly, I called my allies in the hope of some response. Nothing. I repeated their names twice more before I was close enough to sheath my blade. I attempted to stand, a mistake, as my right leg was unwilling to support the weight of my body.

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🕯️ El(iza)beth 🌬️ 🍁 K 🕸️ T 🕷️ @arachnereid.bsky.social · 13h

PS I'm cohosting #hopepit Nov 9! Would love to see you there 🌞🌱
#WIPsnips #solarpunk #clifi friends

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🕯️ El(iza)beth 🌬️ 🍁 K 🕸️ T 🕷️ @arachnereid.bsky.social · 2d

Like one of my heroes @therealelvira.bsky.social, I will be attending No Kings on October 18!

Dancing in the streets with my fellow Portlanders, and Americans across the country, for our freedom!

nokings.org
#NoKings #NoKingsDay

post on another site by the real Elvira saying she will be attending a No Kings rally on 10/18/25

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🕯️ El(iza)beth 🌬️ 🍁 K 🕸️ T 🕷️ @arachnereid.bsky.social · 15h

#WIPsnips
#hope

#Collapse #healing
#hopepunk #hopepit

Fallen Comfort Age cities were reinforced and inhabited by defensive dominions. Mirroring old castle cities, people reinforced walls and brought in food from outside.
Fancy skyscrapers of glass stuck out of inland beaches, covered in bird poop. Inland seas grew and deserts spread where hippies, yuppies, celebrities, and inferno fires had twinkled, smoldered, raged, and burnt out in California.
And then, fires had burned much of what there was to burn. The skies began to clear of the swirling smoke. Trash islands were reabsorbed, broken down, covered in algae and barnacles. Some were sucked into the cold depths, or created floating island habitats for seals to rest. Bastions of hope where nature attempted to find balance again.

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Sage like the Pumpkin Spice @sagecollins.bsky.social · 22h

Blake returns from another world, fixed after days of not being able to see Ren as anything but a horror.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
From A Paranormal Bromance 3 👻💙

Black text, green background, “hope” highlighted blue

"Mm hmm." He gives me a sleepy smile as his hand practically floats up to my cheek. Every movement is more fluid than normal, less full of the tension he normally holds himself up with.

"You're intoxicated. Or you've been hit by some occulty whammy."

These are statement of facts, but he doesn't respond to either of them. All he says is, "I need you."

Joy finishes cleaning up the spilt candle. She sniffles and turns away. I can almost hear her heart break a second time in as many minutes. "Are you fixed, Blake?" she asks, her voice shaking.

He obviously is. His eyes take me in as if he might have forgotten what I looked like. But he doesn't seem to hear her. "I want you to choose me," he says.

I put my hand on top of his and squeeze my eyes shut. "Then fight for me. When you're not occulted or drunk. Fight for me."

"I will." I open my eyes at his words and allow myself to HOPE. "I will."

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Brayton Leroy Meyer @caucasiansuasion.bsky.social · 21h

Twice in one paragraph....because hope is always something to double down on.
#SciFiSunday #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #5AMWriters

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bev (indie author) 👩🏻‍💻 @beverlyannemichel.bsky.social · 21h

#WIPSnips

DystopianWIP - hope 🌼

“I…” she started to say. “I know. I’m just scared.”
“Me too.” I walked toward the door and grabbed the doorknob. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so.”

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Kayleigh Diaz @kleighdiaz.bsky.social · 21h

#WIPSnips | hope

Who says there's no hope in the apocalypse?

(Context: Shrimp doesn't speak.)

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: “You can't just go!” she cried. “After everything, after [redacted], you're just gonna leave?”

He turned to walk away.

“Shrimp!”

He paused for a moment as the waves crashed against the shoreline. Then he turned back, laid a hand on her cheek, and a kaleidoscope of images shot through her mind—twisting, turning, combining—only to be reassorted, shuffled into something new.

A swath of land, ribboned with streams; a cloudless, cerulean sky; tree branches dipped in frost, a blanket of clean snow resting atop the forest floor. A single, white buck in a clearing, its head turning toward her through a silent drift.

And then people. Not solitary, hunted, bedraggled or starving. Faces aglow, flush with radiance, brimming with life—both old and young—but all of them, all of them surrounded by others. This is community, she thought as they whipped through her mind. So many, so many. This is family. These are friends. This is humanity. This is love.

And more. Sensation. The warmth of a blanket, the scent of roasting food, the sound of music and laughter, enough that she was dizzy, drunk with it, like she'd lived a thousand lives in little more than an instant.

Then the kaleidoscope narrowed and collapsed into a single, crystalline scene: a woman with freckles dusting her cheeks, laugh lines etched at the corners of her eyes. She looked down at an infant, cooing in her arms…

He lifted his hand, and she was brought back to the cold present, the crashing waves, bits of sand peppering her cheeks.

“What was that?” she whispered.

He took her hand, traced the letters on her palm.

Hope.

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Prof Emily but Spoopier Now @professoremily.bsky.social · 21h

#WIPSnips #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writesky

I've shared snips of this part before, but I don't care. It's one of my favorite sections ❤️

Mireia contemplating the fact that she's fallen for Kena, despite her intentions.

From Book 2 of my #Atlantis trilogy.

In those moments she looked at him, and she truly believed he was the Sun Father—the personification of hope itself—and she hardly dared consider herself worthy to stand beside his light.
But then, usually in the same moments, he would go and do some small, silly human thing—make a stupid joke and laugh at it himself, nose crinkling—and then he was just Kena again, her dearest friend, making her heart explode into butterflies.
Any little thing he did was enough to pluck the strings of her soul. He’d bring her something warm to drink when she wasn’t feeling well, or for no reason at all. He’d quietly leave a flower from his garden lying around somewhere he knew she would find it. She’d catch him lounging in the sunlight, playing his pipe to himself, and her body would ache to touch him. The sickness became worse and worse every day. He didn’t even have to do anything, and he could set her off just by being there, existing. His hands, his hair, his smell—the way his honey-colored eyes changed in the light—the shape of his mouth when he thought he was clever—the sound of his low, soft voice when he read to her from Ba’oti’s scrolls.
She wanted him. There was no use in denying it anymore. She didn’t know when it had happened, but somehow over the years, friendship had become fondness had become fascination had become desire. The takeover had been so gradual that she hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late.

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Author James C Struck @curioussnowflake.bsky.social · 19h

#WIPSnips for 10/12: hope

Tim’s father Victor is an institutionalized paranoid schizophrenic, and this is the first time in 6 months that he’s been able to visit his dad.

#WriteSky #YAFantasy #QueerWriters

Timothy?" Tim’s heart gave a pleasant squirm in his chest. It was one of his dad’s things, always calling him by his full name. Hearing it gave him a tiny flicker of hope. This was still his dad. Vic unfolded himself from his corner, still staring at him with an odd intensity. As he stood, Tim realized with a shock that he was only a handbreadth shorter than his dad. Vic seemed to notice this too, because he eyed Tim up and down, his brows slightly furrowed. He placed both his hands on Tim’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Stop. Growing,” he said, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face, and he pulled Tim into a tight hug. He sensed the heavy footsteps of Al the Orderly moving towards them, but the doctor murmured something and no one broke up their embrace. He felt his father shift to look up past Tim’s head.
“This is my son, gentlemen. I would never…” he stopped and stiffened. Tim broke off the hug suddenly, once again unconsciously flexing his left hand, and tried to turn away. Vic caught him by the shoulders again, turning him back and gazing intently at him. His gray eyes scanned over Tim’s features, especially the left side, regret and remorse etched into every line of his whiskered face.
“I will not hurt him,” he finished,

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K.A. Hela ✨ Prepping for edits...again✨ @jundlife.bsky.social · 18h

Internet summoning song goes "EEE AHHHH WEEEE EBEBEBE WAAAAHHH SHUUUUUU HEEEEE Welcome"
From "HatWIP"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

I find myself back in my room. I shouldn’t be here. I should be in my treestand enjoying its sanctuary before the inevitable frost robs me of the option. Instead I am once again staring at my Gateway. This electronic temptress, usually only good for revealing sexual acts I have no hope of commiting, now holds another forbidden pleasure; knowledge. The original sin.
The dial-up noise is too loud for the hour of the night. The DSL people need to hurry up and free my geographic location from the restraints of using the telephone lines for all forms of communication. I hate how other people can physically hear when I am surfing the Internet Super Highway. This is supposed to be a private affair.

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G.T. Anthony 🏳️‍⚧️🦇 @theeldervampire.bsky.social · 18h

#WIPSnips | Hope
Young Tobias was invited to the Crown Prince's birthday party. He gets a gift for Prince Lucian while out with his friends. However, realizes too late that he was *supposed* to get one for Lucian's elder brother.
(It's TOTALLY not because he has a crush, why would you say that?)

I did worry in the back of my mind that he would be disgusted by such a gift, but I held onto hope that he would appreciate me giving him something that reminded me of home.

It was three silver pieces for the necklace. I thought the price was too steep, but the jeweler proclaimed that it was an “authentic Moorish trinket.” I bit back a curse, not bothering to haggle.

“What’d you get?” Arthur waited beside Finn at the edge of the square.

I held up the necklace. “I think this’ll do.”

Finn squinted. “It certainly is… unique.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I thought that Prince Lucian might like it.”

“Wait.” Mícheil sputtered, covering his mouth. “Wait, you got a gift for Prince Lucian?”

“Aye. I did.” Something about the way he asked that felt wrong. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s the Crown Prince’s celebration,” Arthur chuckled. “You’re supposed to bring a gift to the Crown Prince!”

I flushed, staring down at the necklace. Of course, it was for Crown Prince Gideon! Why in the blazes would I think of Prince Lucian? “W-well.” I stuffed it in my coin purse. “I already paid three silers, so the Crown Prince will have to survive without my offering. S-stop laughing!”

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Amanda Turek👻Headless Horsewoman @acturek.bsky.social · 18h

#WIPSnips #fantasy #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #hope

It’s happened. It MUST be his fault! The mob rules.

POV Cerel

- Brother’s Keeper, book one of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.

rebuild!" Falma shouted. "Banish him! Only then can we be safe."

"No!" Drisal shouted. "I can't work without
him!" Lord Deran glanced at him and frowned. But the damage was done. Shouts of agreement had already begun. Talman glared at her as those outcries sprouted dozens more. The foolishness spread
putridly around Cerel like the contents of a spilled chamber pot.

"What a boggle of fishwits," he muttered.

"Indeed." Jer looked over the crowd. Too
many people's attention homed in on their small group, and they started to close in on Rush and Drisal.

"Stop it! Listen to Talman!" Cerel boomed, in a final, fleeting HOPE that his celebrity status as newly Named would make him heard.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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Siege of the Spirit @siegeofthespirit.bsky.social · 18h

#WIPSnips hope #fantasy #darkfantasy #despair #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

There was a pathetic eagerness to the way he asked the question, though he was clearly without hope.

Siege of the Spirit

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Mr👻OoOooOoo👻mega @mr0mega.bsky.social · 18h

#WIPSnips #Fantasy
From an escape scene. The thief is almost out of the building, but there's one last obstacle before he's out in the streets.

Once I was past a tangle of wiring near the stairs, I darted up and out the door, finding myself in a pantry for a moment before I crashed through towards the servant’s quarters. I was really hoping they’d know not to get involved with an intruder and just stay in their rooms. The guards knew what they signed up for, but these unlucky folks didn’t deserve to get hurt. That wouldn’t stop me if I had to force my way past, but one can hope for a little less injustice in the world. But since tonight was a night where all my hopes were being crushed, an older gentleman walked out. He was lean, with a full head of neat grey hair, a bushy mustache and thick eyebrows that made him look like his brow was furrowed. He had a set of red pajamas complete with a funny little hat. I almost felt bad as I elbowed past him, hoping to not break the poor man’s hip.

My back was against the wall and the old man’s arm was pressed against my throat before I realized what was happening. His other arm grasped my right wrist and his knee slammed into my gut while I was still registering the impact against the wall. “You’ve caused quite a ruckus, young man.”

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👻Scarlet🎃Mitchell☠️ @scarletvmitchell.bsky.social · 17h

#WIPSnips

A long snip of our butler reading the diaries of his predecessors at the Hermitage before it was mothballed.

The Lady of the house doesn't much care for me.
There had been variations on this sentiment throughout each of the four diaries he'd read thus far. He'd been working his way from the closing of the Hermitage backwards. Much of the contents were fairly dry and concise, but Bayle found them interesting, nonetheless. He was accumulating a richer picture of life on the Hermitage than, perhaps, the average historian might, if they focused on the names and lives of its owners and their families. Instead, he was seeing the side of it he lived, the side of it he hoped it could become again, the buzzing beehive of activity. Names of chefs and mechanics, cleaners and gardeners scrolled by, sometimes with terse commentary, and sometimes with affection.
These men were real, with hearts and opinions, who solved everyday problems for their employers, heading a staff that could run into the dozens. It was a warm dream in his heart that he could live up to what they had been able to do. Each one in turn, however, had made multiple references to the lady of the house being hostile towards him, and Bayle could find no clear reason for the animosity

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Carol Anne Shaw Books @carolanneshawbooks.bsky.social · 17h

#WipSnips #Hope

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PapaDjinn is querying @papadjinn.bsky.social · 17h

Trust instead of hope today. Tok and Othelia find themselves in a familiar bit of tension~
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #bvm #bipoc #amwriting #Fantasy #SFF

Othelia stood there silently for a moment; her hand placed together in front of her. Her eyes searched him, but for what he could not say. Without warning she snatched up his chin and moved close to his face – dangerously close. Their eyes were locked now and Tokonus found
himself unable to resist her gaze.

“Do not ever lose control with me again Tokonus. We may dance back and forth, we may bear suspicions of one another, but if you find yourself losing my trust... you will never get it back. Do you understand?”

It was Tokonus’ turn to study Othelia, and he did so with great interest. It wasn’t fear, excitement or resentment that he felt to her. Could it have been – respect? Was that what he saw when he looked onto her? It didn’t matter, he knew what he wanted to say. Tokonus placed his hand over hers and he spoke.

“You can trust me. You can trust me with your everything.”

Othelia tensed and she bit her bottom lip ever so slightly. He did not waver, he did not back down, his eyebrows narrowed and he held her hand just a bit tighter. The lady averted her gaze first and for once Tokonus felt as if he had the upper hand against her. She did not give him the time to savor the victory. Without another word, she let him go, turned on her heels and walked away.

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MechaniChris @chrisakins.bsky.social · 16h

Sorry folks no spoilers. You’ll have to read the real thing to have the names revealed.

Which you can do here:
www.christianakins.com/grimportents

#writingcommunity #WIPsnips #Writesky #booksky #writing

"So instead, you would condemn every soul in
existence?"
"No-I would fight for every soul. I would
fight so that everyone, even SPOILER
could have a
chance for redemption."
"Have you heard nothing I said?" Ansiel shouted. He reached down and grabbed me by my collar, lifting me to his level. "We could lose!"
"We could win!" I argued, dangling in his grasp. "You've spent all your days in paradise and somehow, you lost hope for the future. So, how about you go to Hell, where hope is the only thing that gets you by."
My friends stared at me, bewildered. I felt
good. Terrified, but good.

Grim Portents banner featuring a skeleton hand holding a feather and emerging from an open book. The title is on a burning banner that envelops the feather and a large beast looms over it all. At the top, the tagline reads: Welcome to the first day of the end of your life…

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Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 aka Radiation Rosie @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 15h

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Only a Silvern land-holder can marry the princess. Kahyla has a scrap of land, if she were desperate enough to accept a deal.

A splotch of goose-poop green wound through the tables. Baron Gooseport’s short jacket concealed as little from the front as it had from the back. Complex knots decorated his codpiece over his opaque woolen hose while navy braids hung at the nape of his neck. A muscular frame suggested time aboard his father’s ships rather than a courtier’s softness.
“Baron Gooseport, a moment of your time.” Kahyla hoped her guess was right, that since Tav had come from Gooseport Barony, perhaps his master did, too.
Although his path took him in front of her, Gooseport shrunk away. “Please, no more false pity for hopeless love. The other Bizal ladies have been cruel enough. Leave your mischief to the demons.” Kahyla’s mouth dropped. A baron, yet bullied by his peers? Gooseport struggled to compose himself before bowing formally. “May Parkith bless our meeting with friendship…” He focused on the Tamrin stag stitched into her maroon forepanel. “Gentlemistress Tamrin!” His eyes leapt hungrily. “Tamrin Manor lies in Silvern Barony, correct? Have you considered marriage?”

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JJ Robinson2 #amwriting #scifi @jjrobinson2.bsky.social · 15h

From Continuum 4: Reunion
#WIP by JJ Robinson II

The #WIPSnips word for October 12th is "hope"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Baker's professional confidence meets real-life consequences.

Text Image:
From Continuum 4: Reunion #WIP by JJ Robinson II

The #WIPSnips word for October 12th is "hope"

Baker's professional confidence meets real-life consequences.

[ “What’s your name?” Baker asked, in what she hoped was a comforting voice.
“They took my name, and my father’s and uncles’, when they captured us. Not sure what to be called anymore.”
Ergald didn’t miss Baker’s attempt to hide the shock on her face when the child said this, but decided not to pursue the matter. He was her employer, after all.
“Um—Boy? It’s more a title.” Baker’s voice only trembled a little.
“All right, I guess.”]

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Adregem ཐིཋྀ @adregem.bsky.social · 15h

Here's another short one from the Moth King #WIPSnips #WIP #AmWriting #WritingPrompts #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #FantasySky #Romantasy #AmQuerying

I test the footing of the Evernight boots the king gave me to replace my ruined sneakers. They’re made from what I hope is leather. I haven’t seen any cows in the Evernight, though, so I can’t be entirely sure they aren’t crafted from mouse hide or the skin of a werewolf.

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