#write a poem inspired by a book you remember liking but haven’t read in a long time - without consulting the book

[salovie]

answers like pebbles,

countless worn by the stream—

pick up a wisdom

when you’re native to silence

your soul listens best

[changbunnies]

Moonstruck (18+)

♡ Pairing: Changbin x Ghost Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by corpse bride, horror in a goofy + silly + fluffy sort of way, ghost / human relationship, love at first sight vibes, smut, takes place vaguely during a time where ppl still use landlines more predominantly than cellphones

♡ Word Count: 6.5k

♡ Summary: Changbin is a scaredy cat– and despite that, he likes to read to the deceased in the cemetery, likes to help the souls that may linger there feel less lonely, likes to let them know they aren’t forgotten. His poems of choice are sweet things, full of love and joy– and his utterances of true love stir you; a soul who died before knowing love, and who craves it even in death. And Changbin decides, then and there, that he wants to give you what you couldn’t have in life.

♡ Warnings: discussions about death ofc (reader is quite literally dead and a ghost lol), i thought making reader the ghost instead of bin would be a fun lil twist as that usually isn't the case in fics like these? just wanted to try somethin a lil different :')

♡ Smut Warnings: sweet + tender smut because i'm a yearner for bin first and foremost!, no intended dom/sub dynamics but i did write a lot of bin begging so :), pet names (baby, honey), exhibitionism, voyeurism, some nipple play, mutual masturbation while cuddling

♡ Notes: my kinktober opened up dark but we are returning to standard form with my precious sweet binnie!! i did originally have something dark planned for bin too but i scrapped it pretty early on cause it didn't feel right lol i couldn't do it!! also the poem binnie is reading at the beginning of the fic is "since feeling is first" by e.e. cummings!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Changbin curses the autumn sun for setting so early– why on earth is it already so dark at 6 o’clock?!

The full moon hangs over him, and gosh, he wishes he could've gotten here earlier in the day– maybe then he wouldn’t still be here, in the local cemetery at night, with nothing but his poem book in hand.

He wishes even more that he at least had a flashlight– but the batteries were drained in the one he has sitting in his car's glove box, and it's not like he can leave spares in there; that's dangerous! So all he can do now is keep turning in the moonlight, trying to get it to hit the page of his book just right so he can keep reading. 

Perhaps the reason he's here is silly, but Changbin fully believes in ghosts. Well, to be more precise, he thinks that there are many souls in the world, and that not every soul is here physically. 

Most souls, he thinks, depart for a better place when their flesh dies, but he also thinks there are many that don’t– many that stick around because there is something they still wish to do, or because they have someone they still wish to see. 

That’s what always brings him here when he can spare a moment from his busy life. Because he believes that if spirits do still linger in this world like he thinks they do, if they haven’t yet found peace and moved on, they must be lonely. 

It must be sad– to exist in the world you once knew, but be unable to interact with it the way you used to. For others to no longer be able to see you, touch you, or hear you.. He doesn’t want anyone, alive or otherwise, to feel forgotten or ignored. And if he can make a difference somehow, in whatever small and silly way it is, he’ll do it; because he’d want someone to do it for him. 

Naturally, he didn’t intend to still be here at night; he just got caught up at work, and arrived here later than he typically would. But still, he didn’t want to just turn around and go home– he promised last week that he’d come back today to read! 

And maybe ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you want to call them aren’t real; maybe he spends his time here reading to nothing and no one. But if there’s even a chance that someone can hear him, and who looks forward to the days he returns to keep them company, then he has to keep his promises. 

Still, he’d be lying if he said he isn’t more than a little freaked out right now. He’s been here during the day plenty of times, and you’d think that’d mean he wouldn’t be scared of the place at night, but oh, you’d be so sorely mistaken. 

He jumps every time the crisp, freshly fallen autumn leaves rustle from the wind, and from every shadow cast from the newly bare tree branches. He constantly glances over his shoulder, alerted from every small noise, whether it be an owl hooting or a cricket chirping.

And when a black cat appeared out of nowhere to bump against his leg, he let out the shrillest shriek before erupting into a fit of sneezes. He even jumped out of his skin from accidentally kicking a can while walking– and why is there litter in a cemetery anyways? Whoever left their trash here is so disrespectful! 

Suffice it to say, Changbin really wants to get out of here– but there’s only one more batch of graves he hasn’t read over yet, and he doesn’t want to skip them over. It wouldn’t feel fair to them, especially not if they're waiting for him– the last thing he wants to do is disappoint someone.

“H-Hi everyone! Changbinnie’s back to read again, uhm– s-sorry I came so late, I’ll still read to you like I promised! J-Just give me a sec,” he says, trying to temper the fear in his voice as he continues to adjust the position of his book in the moonlight. Finally, he finds the perfect position for the moon to make the words in his book clear, and for the shadow he himself casts to not obscure them.

He takes one more tentative glance around, takes a breath to settle his nerves before he clears his throat to start. And thankfully, the fear does naturally start to dissipate a bit as he reads– serves as a good enough distraction from his eerie surroundings. "Since feeling is first, who pays any attention to the syntax of things, will never wholly kiss you. Wholly to be a fool while–"

Changbin pauses when he hears an unfamiliar sound, goosebumps erupting all along his skin as he looks up from his book. It was a soft, light and airy sound– almost like a voice, though he’s certain it couldn’t have been; because when he looks around, he doesn't see anyone. He’s as alone as he’s been from the start; so he assumes he's just psyching himself out, mistaking the steadily blowing wind for something it isn’t. 

"Aish, it's nothing! Stop scaring yourself!" he whispers to himself before he continues to recite the words on the page. But he pauses yet again when he hears fallen leaves crinkle and a brittle tree branch snap just feet away from him. It spooks him good, it does– and he lets out an awkward laugh at himself when he realizes it was the black cat he saw earlier that made the sound; hopefully it keeps enough distance that he doesn't get the sneezes again.

Looking away from the cat that is currently working overtime to fray his nerves, he turns his attention back to his book. There's only a tiny bit of the poem left to go, and Changbin is confident he can get through it! No more being a scaredy cat over the little things, no more trembling breaths and anxious stutters– he can do this!

"The best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter, which says we are for each other; then laugh, leaning back in my arms. For life's not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis."

With a sigh of relief to be finished, he closes his book and prepares to bid the inhabitants of the cemetery, that may or may not actually exist, a pleasant goodbye; and a swear that he's never staying past sundown again. He’ll stay longer next time, he promises, but he has to go home before he loses his mind. 

He really hopes they do exist– he doesn't want to think he stuck around while scared out of his wits for no reason; he hopes someone heard him, and was comforted by his presence. And honestly, he thinks he deserves a pat on the back after all the trials he's gone through in the last 30 minutes!

And as he finishes tucking his poem book in his arm and looks up, he sees someone. Translucent, hazy, floating, just a few feet in front of him– he can see straight through them, can see all the dark trees and short, stone headstones that live in the ground that the figure should obscure were they physically here.

Changbin blinks, almost wanting to cartoonishly rub his eyes and slap his cheeks to make sure he's seeing properly and not losing his mind like he fears. What he does instead is shriek, positively jumps out of his skin once again as he drops his book and falls back on his behind from the fright.

He scrambles backwards, ducks behind a nearby headstone and brings a hand over his racing heart. He takes a few breaths, does his best to calm down before he slowly peeks out from behind the headstone to see if the figure is still there. 

He doesn't see anyone anymore– was he just seeing things? He has been really scared, so he doesn't think it impossible that his mind would start tricking him. But what if he really saw a ghost? The thought makes goosebumps rise on his skin again– God, he needs to go home already. 

"Hello? Can you hear me?" he hears a voice, airy and otherworldly, just behind him. His breath hitches, and hesitantly, slowly, he starts to turn toward the source of the voice. You float there, brows furrowed as you call to him, glowing ever so slightly in the palest shade of blue. 

A chill runs down his spine, and it's not just from how frightened he is– it's because cold air is quite literally radiating off of you. "Y-You– You're– You're a–" You're a ghost, he's trying to say, but the word catches in his throat. It doesn't help that his teeth are chattering now– he can even see his breath with every word he manages to choke out.

And yes, he already thought ghosts were real– the whole reason he comes here to comfort spirits is because he believes in them! But he’s never actually seen one before, nor heard their disembodied voices calling to him. And now that it’s actually happening, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“You can hear me! I knew it! You can see me too, can’t you?” you exclaim joyously, clapping your hands together in utter delight. You’re less transparent than before, your form less blurry– but you don’t look solid either. If he stuck his hand out to touch you, he’s sure it’d pass right through you. 

He swallows as he watches you dart side to side in your glee, the motions so smooth it’s unnatural. You look around his age, he thinks, though it’s impossible for him to tell exactly how old you are– or rather, were. Your hair is wispy, floats around you in a way reminiscent of being underwater; your long dress does too, light and delicate in appearance. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Changbin,” you tell him earnestly as you float down to his eye level, “I didn’t mean to, I just got so excited you could finally hear me– I'm so happy!” 

“You– you know my name?” Changbin questions, bewildered– honestly, he feels like he’s going to pass out. “Of course I do! You come here every week to read to me,” you reply with a giggle, as if the idea that you wouldn’t know his name is a silly one.

“O-Oh, right, yeah, of course, that makes sense,” he mutters. He’s still shocked, but he’s not as scared as before, and he manages to relax just a little. “You, uhm– you listen to me read often then..?” he follows up hesitantly; and it’s probably such a silly question, but you’ll have to forgive him because he’s never had a conversation with a ghost before. 

“Yes! I love when you come to visit and read your poems, it always makes me happy,” you tell him, adjusting your position so you’re sitting down with him– though you aren’t actually sitting on the dirt like he is, but levitating off the ground.

You introduce yourself after that, smile happily when he repeats it, because it’s been oh so long since someone said your name. “If you’re always here, why couldn’t I see you before?” Changbin can’t help but ask after, because now that the fear is dissipating he’s full of questions he wants to ask you.

“Well, the conditions have to be right! You can’t see me when it’s bright out, and you never stay 'til dark. And now I know why, scaredy cat,” you tease him, giggling when he pouts and huffs. You honestly find it endearing that someone as seemingly strong as Changbin is so easily frightened by little things.

“Hey, you’d be scared too!” he complains, though he can’t help but smile as you keep giggling at him. He never expected to befriend a ghost, but you’re obviously a kind spirit, and your delight to be talking to him is evident. And now that he’s over the shock and the fear, and really looks at you, he thinks you’re pretty too– beautiful, even. 

Is that strange? Maybe; but you are still a person at the end of the day. You float, you’re a little transparent, you glow pale blue and cold air surrounds you, but you’re still a person.

And at the same time, he can’t help but feel sad too– death comes for everyone, he knows, but it feels unfair that someone like you is already gone from this world. Someone as young, kind, and beautiful as you should’ve lived a long, full life.

“You need to have strong emotions to manifest, y’know? And the moon helps– when it's full like this, it gives me more energy than I usually have,” you continue to explain when your giggling subsides, and Changbin hums contemplatively, thinking for a moment before he responds.

“You have strong emotions then? Something that keeps you here?” It makes sense that you would– as far as he knows, strong emotions are the only things tethering spirits to the physical world; so if you’re not at rest, it has to be because there’s something within you that feels unresolved, something you needed or wanted but never obtained. 

Tentatively you nod, fiddling with your fingers and averting your gaze slightly. “I do, but.. It’s– it’s silly,” you mumble, and Changbin’s previous lighthearted, curious expression shifts, suddenly turning serious as he gazes at you with a slight frown.

“If it mattered to you– if it still matters to you, it’s not silly,” he says, and the sincerity in which he says it would make your heart race if you were still alive. If you’re being entirely honest, you’re in love with Changbin– and that’s part of the problem.

When you were alive, all you’d ever wanted was love– to meet someone that knocked you off your feet with just a glance, someone sweet, sincere, and tender. Someone that you could marry someday, maybe start a family with while living together in a quaint little idyllic house. 

But that never happened– and the sense of despair and unfulfillment you felt from having your dreams taken away from you are what kept you here. You didn’t know what to do when you realized what happened to you– spent your days wailing in frustration and sadness to the few other spirits inhabiting the cemetery with you over the unfair circumstances. 

What were you supposed to do? How were you supposed to find peace and move on? Maybe the only way would be to learn to accept it– accept that your dreams would never come true, and just let them go. You didn’t want to, but if you kept holding onto them, who knows when you’d finally move on from this world? 

And around the same time you were grappling with such thoughts and feelings is when you first saw Changbin, who came to the cemetery for no reason other than to give you and the other inhabitants some company. And he wasn’t talking only to you, but it always felt like he was– like every word that left his lips was entirely for you alone. 

“I’m here for you, you’re not alone as long as Changbin is here,” “This poem is my favorite, I hope you like it too,” “Did you have a good day today? It’s okay if you didn’t– Binnie’ll hopefully make it better!” 

That’s all it took, really– and suddenly, you weren’t bound to this world because you never knew love; you were bound to this world because you felt it too much. You love him; not just because of his sweet personality, but every little detail about him– from the swoop and curl of his hair, to his chubby cheeks, to his cute, pretty and pouty lips. 

And you long to kiss him, but Changbin is alive, and you very much aren’t anymore– and there’s no way he’ll fall in love with a ghost. Still, you believe him when he says that what binds you here isn’t silly– or that he won’t think so, at least. 

“It’s just.. Well, I can’t have what I want, I know I can’t, but I still want it anyways; like, even though I should just let it go, I can’t bring myself to. I think that’s why I’m still here,” you tell him, deciding it’s best to keep your desires down to their vaguest parts.

Changbin is sweet, and he looks at you with so much care that you’re certain he’d be understanding and sympathetic, but it’s probably for the best that you don’t pour your heart out beyond that. 

“Is there really no way for you to have what you want? If there’s anything I can do to help, you can tell me! I’d do my best,” he expresses sincerely, and though you can’t physically cry anymore, it almost makes you feel like you will. He’s just too sweet, you can’t take it.

“M-Maybe, but I wouldn’t ask for it,” you reply, and his brows furrow a little. “Why not? You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I hope you know that I mean it when I say I'd be happy to help you," Changbin says, smile so patient, gentle and sweet that it if you were still alive, your cheeks would definitely be heating up right now. 

Should you give it a shot? What's the worst that could happen? You're already dead, so it's not like you can die from embarrassment if he shuts you down. The worst he can say is no– and that would be okay too, because maybe with his rejection you'd finally be able to let go of what keeps you here.

“You could.. kiss me?” you say after a moment of hesitation, and Changbin almost squeaks from how surprised he is, blinks at you with the cutest flustered expression you’ve ever seen.

“Th-That’s– that’s what you want?” he stutters out, and even in the low light of the moon, you can tell he’s blushing, the soft pink spreading over his cheeks and crawling up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s– it’s what I wanted when I was alive. To kiss someone I love, I mean,” you answer, and it gets Changbin’s heart racing. Not just that someone as pretty as you, ghost or not, wants to kiss him, but the implication that you love him that definitely wasn’t missed by him. 

“It was the poems, wasn’t it?” he says with a bashful little downturned smile a moment later, and you laugh, in your delightfully light and airy way as you nod. “They helped. But really, I just think you’re very cute– and very sweet.”

It’s a little strange, being complimented like this by a ghost, and learning that said ghost has very deep rooted feelings for him– but he likes it. And maybe it’s a little unorthodox, but he’d be happy to give you what you want; especially if it will help you find peace.

“I’ll kiss you,” he tells you, and it’s not because he feels obligated, or like he should– it’s because, believe it or not, he sincerely wants to. He thinks you're pretty, you're sweet and earnest, and you love him– so who cares if you're a ghost; why shouldn't he kiss you?

“A-Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” you assure him, and Changbin smiles at you as he nods, entirely certain. “I know I don’t have to. I want to kiss you.” Your spiritual heart soars and burns with joy– and slowly, timidly, you return his smile before you float your way closer to him, and reach your hand out to touch his cheek.

He doesn’t feel your touch, not really– just the cold that pours from you. Regardless, he closes his eyes for you, purses his lips and slightly tilts his head the way he would if he were kissing anyone else. And again, he doesn’t feel your lips, but the cold– that is, until the feeling suddenly starts to become fuller. 

Slowly, he can begin to feel the way your hand rests on his cheek, can feel your lips slotted against his. He can feel your other hand resting on his chest, right over his heart, can feel the weight of your body on his lap, and he shivers– not because of the cold, but because he can actually feel you now.

Instinctively, he moves his hands to try and touch you– and is pleasantly surprised to find he can. His hands don’t phase through you like he thought they would earlier– he can feel you under his fingertips, as if you’re just as corporeal as he himself is. And so he holds you close, kisses you slow and sweet, over and over until he’s out of breath. 

“You’re still here,” he can’t help but whisper when he pulls away; he half expected you to dissipate the moment you got what you wanted, though he’s not sure if that’s actually how it's supposed to work. And he’s left with a strange feeling– on one hand, he’s sad for you because he really did want to help you move on. On the other hand, he likes that you’re still here, that he can still see you and feel you. 

In reality, you feel like his kiss tethered you even more to the physical world. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and instead of it giving you the peace you needed to move on, it bound you here stronger. You're filled with a strong desire to remain here, to be with Changbin, and you feel that it has made you manifest more than you’d ever been able to before. 

You’ve tried many times before, but have never been able to manifest yourself this much; to the point that not only could you be seen and heard, but felt– and whether it’s because the full moon is helping, or because Changbin’s kiss gave you more energy and purpose, or a mix of both, you’re happy.

“I think I like you too much to move on.” you tell him, and he giggles as he squeezes you closer, his nose scrunching cutely whilst he hugs you. 

“I’m sorry– I feel like I shouldn’t be, but I’m happy you’re still here,” he says, and you shake your head, returning his smile as you share the sentiment. “I’m happy I’m still here too.” 

It’s a bit strange, having a ghost for a partner. Sharing a kiss attached you to him; and no longer bound to your grave, but to Changbin himself, now you go wherever he goes. You don’t need to always be right on him, of course– but you do have to be close; and every time one of you steps too far out of that radius, you always end up snapping back to him. 

It’s a generous radius, really– you can go several miles before the invisible tether connecting you snaps you back to his side. It’s more than enough for you to exist in his house while he goes to work– and really, he’s happy to share his home with you; he’s sure it beats staying in the cemetery all day, every day. 

And even when he can’t see you, whether because the sun is too bright in the sky or because you don’t have enough energy to manifest that day, he can feel you– and you make yourself known in little ways. His house is always cold now, but it’s especially cold when you’re nearby. You flicker his lights and turn his tv screen to static to get his attention, or leave a message in the steam from his hot showers on the mirror. 

He’ll get a phantom phone call to his landline, where all that exists on the other line is static– but even if he can’t hear it, he’s sure at that moment you’re saying something sweet. And while he's mostly used to these occurrences now, he'll still jump when he hears a sudden noise before he remembers it’s you; a tapping on the wood of his bed frame, usually– 8 knocks meant to signify “I love you.”

Nights of the full moon are always when you can manifest yourself the fullest and easiest, and you both take full advantage of the time you have before you eventually start to become hazy and transparent again. Tonight is one of those nights; the moon hanging high, bright and beautiful, illuminating his dark room in the same pretty, pale blue that glows off you. 

“Baby, please–! You’re so cold, warn me first!” Changbin cries when you first touch him. He already knows you’re not going to waste any time in getting to touch him when you first manifest, but the chill that radiates off you still jolts him every time.

“You’re just so warm,” you muse happily as you snake your limbs around him, sap him for all the warmth he’s worth under his fluffy comforter, “my big teddy bear.” He huffs, but smiles as he does– he can’t actually be upset with you, after all. 

“You should let me take your warmth anyways– you were so mean, ignoring me all day,” you pout as you snuggle into him, burying your head in the warm crook of his neck.

“Hey, hey! Don’t say that, that’s not fair! You know I couldn’t see you!” he wails dramatically, and you have to make an effort not to giggle, bury your face further into him so he can’t see you smiling.

Of course, you know it’s not his fault in the slightest that he couldn’t see your or hear you earlier today, but you still like to tease him over it just a little– his reactions to it are always so cute. “So mean,” you repeat, your voice muffled by his sweater.

He knows that you’re doing it to get a rise out of him, and you know that he knows. But he likes doing this with you– it’s silly fun, and he loves the precious smile that spreads on your face when he plays along and inevitably dotes on you while begging for your forgiveness.

“Aigoo, my baby is really upset. Guess Binnie just has to make it up to you, huh?” he says, and you lift your head just enough to peek an eye at him. “Tell Changbinnie what you want, he’ll give it to you. He’s really sorry,” he entices you further, and the cute smile he was expecting and loves so much makes its full appearance.

“Want a kiss,” you say, pursing your lips at him in that cute duck shape as you wait for him to comply. He tries to coo at you, but it comes out more like a giggle before he’s lifting his head from the pillow to kiss you, tender and sweet.

“Do you forgive me now?” he asks when he pulls away, and you hum as you pretend to think about it. “Mm, I don’t know. I think I might need another one to decide.”

Changbin fully laughs then, shakes his head and mutters something about you being cute before he kisses you again. He shifts onto his side as he kisses you, making it easier for you to tangle your legs with his. He hisses when your cold toes touch the backs of warm calves, and you giggle an apology, though he knows you’re not actually sorry about it at all.

You always tell him how much you love his warmth, and how it radiates from every inch of him. And he’ll pout and shout, half-heartedly complain when you surprise him by touching him with your cold digits, simply because he knows it makes you laugh; you both know that in reality, he’s happy to be your personal heater.

He shivers when you snake your hands under his sweater; your hands aren’t as cold as they were when you first touched him anymore, but it’s still enough for goosebumps to follow the path of your fingers– or maybe he just has goosebumps because he likes you touching him.

Changbin gasps when you brush over his peaking, puffy nipples, and you take that moment to slip your tongue into this mouth. He moans when you pinch them between your fingers, tweak and twist just enough to have him squirming.

“Honey,” he breathes in a near whine when you pull away from him to kiss over his jaw, and the scar that sits on his chin, while your fingers continue to play with his body. 

“I missed you,” you speak against his skin as you press kisses along his neck, “I heard you earlier– saw you touching yourself in the shower. I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t do anything about it.” He whimpers at that, squeezes you where his hand rests on your waist. 

Naturally, the fact that you can hear him and see him even when he can’t see or hear you always exists in the back of his mind. Every time he starts to touch himself, it’s something he considers– and he even likes it; likes knowing you’re there, watching and listening.

“I’m sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whines an apology, though he knows he doesn’t have to. You’ve both talked about it, of course– how you like watching him, and how he likes being watched in turn. There’s something naughty about it, and it always leaves him feeling extra desired and sexy when you later tell him what you saw, how much you want him because of it. 

And when he feels a sudden chill run along his body and down the length of his spine, is hit with the inexplicable sensation of being watched, he knows it’s you. It always fuels him, makes him fist his cock faster and run his mouth, hoping you like everything he’s spilling. 

Really, it’s no wonder that you always jump his bones the minute you can. Changbin thinks he’d go insane if the situation were the opposite; if he could see you touching yourself, could hear every little noise of pleasure you release, and not be able to join no matter how bad he wanted to. He’s already desperate for more intimacy with you as is– he doesn’t think he’d be able to take it. 

“Can you do it again? Touch yourself with me right here?” you ask him, and he can’t help the way his face flushes as you continue, “I want you to see me watching you this time.” You can feel the way his heart thumps in response to your request, how it picks up speed ever so slightly before he answers. “Y-Yeah, I can– I can do that for you, honey.”

You meant it when you said you like watching Changbin get off. You like watching his honeyed skin slowly take on more and more pink as he strokes his cock. You like watching his broad chest puff out, his stomach clench, his toned arms flex with every motion he makes.

You like watching the sweat build on his brow, and like to listen to his moans become more breathy and whiny as he gets closer and closer to release. And though Changbin isn’t naked now, you’ll still enjoy watching all the same; because he's beautiful, and handsome, and so utterly perfect when he's feeling good.

He reaches between your bodies, manages to get his pajama pants and underwear down just enough to release his still hardening cock from their confines. He bites his lip as he takes the short length in his hand, looks down at himself as he strokes it slowly before looking back at you.

There’s still enough lingering sensitivity from before that he squirms more than usual, but that’s not all there is to it– it's your attentive stare, the way you gaze into his eyes as he moans before you trail them away to watch him stroke himself, and back again. And you’re so close, body so tangled with his, that his fist keeps bumping into your thigh with each pump of his cock. 

Changbin keens when you kiss him, so affectionate and tender that it makes his head spin. You can feel his thighs twitch as he starts to stroke himself faster, and you pull away to watch for a few moments before you tilt your head back up to kiss him again. He's fully hard now, dripping pre-cum so steadily that the glide of his hand becomes slick and effortless.

He whimpers when you pinch his nipples again, parts his lips so you can slip your tongue back into his mouth. His breathing becomes steadily harsher and uneven, his every moan and whimper muffled by your lips against his. He brings his other hand to your ass, squeezes it as he pulls you even closer to his body, as if the fact that you're not already mere inches apart with your limbs tangled together is enough for him.

And truly, he can't get enough of having you close like this. The way you kiss him, touch him, look at him, all while he’s stroking his cock for you– it really does something to him; makes him feel so good and so desired that he swears he could cum purely from the intimacy of it alone.

“You too, please?” Changbin pleads in a breathy exhale the next time you pull back from kissing him, “Please, want to watch you too.”

“Yeah? You want to watch me?” you smile, almost giggle from the eager nod and the whiny, desperate “please, want it so bad,” he gives in response. You’re sweet to your Binnie, oblige him in an instant, and he watches with eager eyes and bated breath as you dip your hand between your bodies.

Even with your dress already hiked all the way up your thighs, you’re so closely pressed to him that he can’t get a clear sight of your pussy; but watching your hand will be enough of a view for him. He'll be able to tell what you're doing, and that's all he really needs.  

All you can reach while this close and tangled together with Changbin is your clit, and he watches you shudder at the first bit of stimulation to it from your fingers. He mimics what you’d done– alternates between watching your face and your hand, and God, every time your eyes meet again it takes his breath away. 

It’s not the same as if you had a physical body like his– your face doesn’t flush, you don't sweat from exertion, and you don’t grow breathless the way he does, but you feel the pleasure all the same. He can tell from the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your body, and the bite of your lip as you gaze at him.

And you're so pretty, face so close to his that your foreheads touch, that his every breath tickles you. "Oh my god, baby–" he whimpers when you start to moan with him, picking up the pace of your hand when he does, matching his speed.

It makes him dizzy– because when he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s inside you; pretend that the sloppy, squelching sounds his fist creates are from your pussy instead. He can pretend that when you moan and whimper, it’s because he's stretching you out perfectly and hitting your spot just right. 

He holds your gaze when he opens his eyes again, completely stops watching the motion of your fingers between your legs so he can strictly observe you, take in your pretty face and how you look when you're feeling good with him. It’s intimate, staring at you like this; it makes him squeeze his cock tighter, the motion of his fist quickly becoming erratic as he drives himself closer to release. 

“Does it– do you feel good?” Changbin asks, because even though he knows, he still wants to hear you say it. “Do you like this? Tell me– please tell me.” 

“Feels so good, Binnie, love this, love you so much– you can’t see it, but I always touch myself with you like this, always make myself cum watching you,” you tell him, and he whimpers from your admission, high-pitched and squeaky. 

“Oh, ‘m so close– will you cum with me? Please, need you to cum with me,” Changbin whines and pleads, every inch of his body trembling as he tries to hold his orgasm back long enough to hear your answer. 

“I will, ‘m gonna cum for you, Binnie, just for you,” you promise, reaching your free hand out to cup his face, keeping your eyes locked with his as you watch each other unravel. Your paces are frantic now, bodies bucking together with every combined motion of your hands between your tangled legs. 

You lean forward to kiss him just as your high takes you, and it sends him right over the edge with you, eyes rolling back before they flutter closed. Noises of pleasure muffled by each other’s lips, his hips jolt as his cum spills over his fist, onto your thighs and the hand you have nestled between them. 

He’s sure some of it got on his comforter too, but he doesn’t care– he just keeps kissing you as he comes down from his high, because despite how breathless he is, it's all he wants to do. “I love you so much,” he tells you after another sweet kiss, and you smile at him, tell him you love him too as you wipe the sweat sticking his curly hair to his forehead away. 

You stay like that the rest of the night; tangled together, hugging each other close and kissing tenderly until Changbin’s fatigue prevents him from doing so any longer. He falls asleep like that, holding you to his body as much as he can; and even when your physical form starts to dissipate with the rising of the sun, you stay right against him.

When he wakes in the morning, he can’t see you anymore, but he knows you’re there. He tells you he loves you, and he smiles when you reply with your 8 little knocks to his bed frame. He talks to you throughout his morning, as he always does, because even if he can’t see you, he knows you’re listening. 

And when he decides to go back to the cemetery to read to the other spirits that still linger there, as he promised them he would, you go with him. He saves your grave for last, and you watch as he puts flowers on your headstone before he settles in to read to you; and even when he can’t see you because the sun is just too bright, he can feel you there, sitting next to him and listening to his poems. 

When he’s finished reading, he’ll feel a sudden touch of cold on his cheek, and he’ll know it’s from you kissing him. He’ll smile, place his hand over the spot and tell you again that he loves you. And when Changbin returns home, and the light of the moon helps you manifest again, he’ll kiss you all over and squeeze you tight, with a million promises of forever on his lips.

[bsdtakanenohana]

I haven’t read any chapters since the June one and I don’t plan on it until the January chapter is out, but I did see a sort of spoiler and so I’m gonna talk about my theory now which really might be true.

The post I saw said that Atsushi was called a bookmark. Okay, so I’m assuming that’s in reference to the Book that a few people have been searching for. We already knew that Atsushi was somehow related to the Book and that he was needed in some way to find it. But now we know he’s a bookmark (remember I don’t know the full context because I didn’t read the chapter yet) and that changes things a little. A bookmark doesn’t help you find a lost book. A bookmark helps you find where you are within a book. You get it? You have to already have the book for a bookmark placed in it to be of any use.

The Book isn’t just a literal book (we know in some way it has to be physical since there was a Page from it) but also symbolizes something greater. My bet is it’s their known universe. Because it has to be something that Atsushi has been placed in otherwise he’s not a bookmark.

We already know that one can use the Book to enter/create the mulitverse/another universe. But what if it can do that because it also (partially since it still is a physical book) becomes the universe? And that’s how writing in a physical page will actually shape reality? It’s also why, on a meta level, the reason all ability users are named after writers from our world and their abilities are the titles of their works? And the Book is more powerful than an ability (something that exists in their world but not ours) because the Book is from our world?

Even before I read the manga and was an anime only and I saw others talk about their theories about the Book and what was going on, I had this thought that the Book was somehow the link/explanation as to why all the characters are inspired by writers from our world and the characters in their stories. And that it’s sort of like they’re in the Matrix. Not that the explanation will be that in our world the real life writers are somehow attached to the Book and they’re unknowingly trapped in the BSD universe; I’m thinking more along the line of fourth wall breaking, the Book is the pages of the manga and light novels that Asagiri writes on and transfers what we know from our world (the novels and poems and their characters along with certain aspects of the writers) into characters in BSD.

I think this theory could work even more now that we know Atsushi is a bookmark in the Book. We know he’s the main character, and main characters are what moves the plot of their story, of their universe around or what is affected most by their plot if they’re a more passive character. But the story doesn’t exist without the MC, that much is known by every writer/reader. And inside his universe, inside BSD, he’s working as the placeholder (bookmark) to find out where one is in the story, which is the BSD universe which is the non physical part of the Book (and that would somehow lead to the physical form but I wouldn’t know how Fyodor would find that).

I also find this theory to be plausible because it would explain why, in a story where the vast majority of the characters we learn about are ability users named after and inspired by real life writers and their works, the main villain wants to rid the world of ability users— of people who are “from” our world. It adds an extra level of villainy because he’s trying to get rid of the very reason why his universe, the story of BSD, exists. The entire premise is about characters based on people and characters from our world having superpowers. Without that, it looses its appeal.

[urhouseisnthauntedurjustlonely]

Found Some More Hatchetfield Lore!

tldr; at bottom

I remembered that one of the Lang brothers said that Wiggly is based off of Cthulhu, so I decided to do something digging on a piece of shit author, H.P. Lovecraft and y’all… Okay, I don’t know if it counts as lore, but Hatchetfield is right under our noses.

CW: H.P. Lovecraft’s writing is full of bigotry, and if you plan on reading it, prepare yourself. For example, there is an evil entity named Shub-Niggurath. Yeah.

I don’t like H.P. Lovecraft, nor do I enjoy his writing in general, so here are some things that people should look up if you want to find out Hatchetfield’s inspiration. More thoughts on why I cannot write about him are at the bottom.

Also! I do not look down or dislike people who enjoy H.P. Lovecraft’s writing and his creations, and would really love for people to continue to look into things I cannot. I hope my little notes help!

(I’ve linked the stories in pink!)

SPOILERS: Hatchetfield? I guess? The Cthulhu Mythos & The Dream Cycle.

Cthulhu Mythos:

Just read ‘The Call of Cthulhu’. Everything makes sense.

Miss Holloway is based off of a character named Horvath Blayne from the anthology series The Trail to Cthulhu by August Derleth. Here’s one of them. ‘The Black Island, Being the Narrative of Horvath Blayne’.

Duke Keane is also taken from The Trail to Cthulhu.

The narrator of ‘The Call of Cthulhu’ is named Francis Wayland Thurston.

Professor Hidgens is based off of an art student named Henry who is known for being eccentric and living in solitude. (The Call of Cthulhu)

Emma Perkins is named after a ship called the Emma. The crew got into a battle with Cthulhu’s cult members, which resulted in the Emma having one survivor. (The Call of Cthulhu)

John MacNamara is based off of the police officer John Legrasse. (The Call of Cthulhu)

Willabella Muckwab resembles Lavinia Whateley, from ‘The Dunwich Horror’. She has a son, Wilbur Whateley (Wilbur Cross), whose father is the cosmic entity Yog-Sothoth (Wiggog Y’rath). Lavinia went missing on Halloween, and the assumption is that Wilbur killed her.

The Black Book is the Necremonium.

There’s always professors somewhere.

The Dream Cycle:

LOL. The Dream Cycle is a collection of short stories surrounding dream cities. I honestly haven’t read anything about this other than brief stuff from the Wiki, but the connections are painfully obvious.

The word ‘oblivion’ is written in the Black Book. H.P. Lovecraft has a poem titled Ex Oblivione. The narrator sees a gate in his dreams and wants to get past it, but he can’t access it. He eventually does, though. Yikes. Read this post, picture Willabella Muckwab as the narrator for Ex Oblivione, and enjoy.

Bonus: Some of the covers of the magazine that published H.P. Lovecraft’s work (Weird Tales) are sprinkled throughout Hatchetfield.

“Pete, get behind me! I’ve got a gun.”

“Steph… it’s a ghost. I don’t think that’s gonna do any good.”

Rosary? Killer Track, much? Also, the art style for the Black Book kind of resembles this… huh.

-

Note: I had planned to read all of H.P. Lovecraft and the associated work, but the racism is too much for me. I can’t “separate the art from the artists”, especially when everything evil is so obviously and horrendously based on Black people, as well as other races. Again— Shub-Niggurath. Like, seriously?

It’s a huge bummer, because I have so many thoughts— like the implications behind Willabella Muckwab associated with Lavinia Whateley, and Wilbur Cross also being associated with Wilbur Whateley. So much is at our finger tips.

I’m still going to be writing other things, though!

I have more of the Black Book deciphered, so that’s exciting, especially since I actually got some stuff right in my first post. (It was looked at through a more religious lenses rather than an H.P. Lovecraft lenses, though.) BUT STILL. MY EYES HURTING FROM INTENSE SQUINTING SESSIONS WAS NOT FOR NAUGHT! And I know I state some of these things as if they’re facts, but they’re ‘probably based on’ stuff.

Alright. I’m off to read about physics, the concept of nothingness, and the æther in the name of theatre kid.

tldr; the Lang bros made a the TTRPG Call of Cthulhu homebrew and turned it into musicals.

[sixtynineinchnails]

i think it’s important for folks to remember that it’s not just reading books. in creative writing classes we get taught this and people will be like yeah i read so much but then it’s all ya fantasy. like sure. okay. but that’s not rly good enough actually. if you want to write better you need a well-rounded understanding of the written word. you need to read in as many genres (like mystery, romance, horror, etc) as you can and you need to read old classic books and new releases and you need to read poems and plays and nonfiction and the more diverse the authors are the better and hell you should be paying attention to spoken word and lyrics and film scripts and video essays too because everything you hear was also written.

and you have no excuse not to.

can’t afford to buy a bunch of stuff you might not like? you can read physical books and audiobooks for free from libraries. you can pirate pretty much any book online. you can find a multitude of spoken word and speeches free on youtube. another multitude of poems for free on various poetry and lit journal websites.

don’t know where to start? read what you want to write. and i don’t just mean “i wanna write fantasy so i’m reading fantasy” i mean read stuff in the style (minimalist, purple prose, etc) you wanna write in, read stuff with the types of characters and tropes you wanna write, etc. keep an open mind. you might end up getting the most inspiration and growth for your novel from a movie script or song lyrics or something.

don’t like any of the things you’ve read that weren’t part of the specific niche you read in? keep looking. don’t judge classics by the novel you hated studying in grade ten. don’t judge nonfiction by news journalism. don’t judge poetry by rupi kaur. i promise you, the sampling most people have of written work in the mainstream doesn’t come close to capturing what actually exists out there. google “poems for people who like [book/movie you like]” or whatever. ask for recommendations from as many people as you can, once folks (especially teachers/profs!) know you’re a reader/writer they’ll be dying to get you to read something or other.

and most of all let people read your writing and listen to their feedback. i know it’s scary. believe me. but you cannot grow as a writer if you don’t accept feedback. and there’s a very strong chance that someone who’s giving you feedback is gonna at some point say something along the lines of “oh your piece reminds me of [other written work]” and now you get to go check that thing out if you haven’t already and learn what you have in common with already published works.

anyways. like op says if you want your craft to improve go read shit. especially if you plan on studying writing and/or getting published.

fascinating that when you tell people "you have to learn the rules to break them" when talking about drawing/painting etc everyone nods and agrees but the second you say "you have to read books if you want to write better" there's a horde of contrarians begging to be the wrongest people ever all of a sudden

[chdarling]

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[doodleybugg]

writer questions!!

1. what font do you write in?

2. if you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? if you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. what is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. what’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. do you have any writing superstitions? what are they and why are they 100% true?

6. what is your darkest fear about writing?

7. what is your deepest joy about writing?

8. if you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. do you believe in ghosts? this isn’t about writing i just wanna know

10. has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? has your own writing haunted you? what does that mean to you?

11. do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” are you a ruthless darling assassin? what happens to the darlings you murder? do you have a darling graveyard? do you grieve?

12. if a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current wips into lorem ipsum, i don’t make the rules

13. what is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? what is easy?

14. do you lend your books to people? are people scared to borrow books from you? do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? will you ever get them back?

15. do you write in the margins of your books? dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? why or why not? do you judge people who do these things? can we still be friends?

16. what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. talk to me about the minutiae of your current wip. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. choose a passage from your writing. tell me about the backstory of this moment. how you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. spicy addition: questioner provides the passage.

19. tell me a story about your writing journey. when did you start? why did you start? were there bumps along the way? where are you now and where are you going?

20. if a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious wip in exactly the way you’ve always imagined it — which would you choose? you can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. could you ever quit writing? do you ever wish you could? why or why not?

22. how organized are you with your writing? describe to me your organization method, if it exists. what tools do you use? notebooks? binders? apps?

23. describe the physical environment in which you write. be as detailed as possible. tell me what’s around you as you work. paint me a picture.

24. how much prep work do you put into your stories? what does that look like for you? do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. what is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. how do you get into your character’s head? how do you get out? do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? why?

28. who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? why?

29. where do you draw your inspiration? what do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? have you ever written in a dream? did you remember it when you woke up?

31. write a short love letter to your readers.

32. what is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? how did you find it? what does it mean to you?

33. do you practice any other art besides writing? does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. thoughts on the oxford comma, go:

35. what’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. they say to write what you know. setting aside, for a moment, the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you know?

37. if you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. what is something about your writing process YOU think is really weird? if you are comfortable, please share. if you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. what keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. please share a poem with me, i need it.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

My prediction was correct that I would cry reading about Edmund and Benedict together, but what I did not anticipate was that I would cry so much. You have a superb ability to find stories within music, and I love that these songs inspire you to write such moving work!

You discussed it in the comments and I join the group in agreeing - we need more exploration of Edmund and Benedict’s relationship. The books are written, and it may be too much to expect from the show, but in our collective fics and headcanons, we can examine what is undoubtedly a beautiful bond, and that is exactly what you have done, with exceptional skill. That you not only wrote a fic for them, but peppered it throughout with so many heartwarming and heartbreaking nods and details to other story elements and to Benedict’s character - this is a treasure. 🥹

Ok, the list of all the ways you destroyed me:

I probably should have, but didn’t realize this was a modern setting until movies were mentioned. Mentions of modern technology aside, this fits so perfectly into any time period.

That Benedict could sense the importance of the conversation with his father. Tying this in so beautifully to his book premonitions, when he can sense significant change is coming. Our darling spiritual boy 💙 Given all the parallels that are often drawn between these two characters, it makes me wonder if Edmund could sense it too - some imperative to have important conversations with his two eldest sons as soon as possible, though he wasn’t precisely sure why. Maybe Benedict’s sensitivity to that energy is inherited. 💔

I haven’t read the books expanding on Edmund’s backstory, but would love to know how in the world he became an absolutely perfect man 😭 The way he (which would be YOU) describes women, their strengths, their needs, and how they complement the strengths and needs of men, is so unique, deeply insightful, and in my experience - true. What staggering wisdom he is imparting to Ben, and it all demonstrates how he has loved and viewed Violet in their life together. Seeing that - how much he reveres and understands her - I am once again reminded of how she ended up having 8 children with this man. When he is so perfect, and so perfectly in love with you, how could you not??

“But with a heart built like yours, it will come as second nature. Of that I have no doubt.” Edmund understands Benedict. He sees that he is the child with the biggest heart and can already anticipate how much love Benedict is going to pour out into the world. That is why the topic of this important conversation is love and passion - because he knows these things will be Benedict’s driving motivations in life. As opposed to Anthony, whose final conversation was about persistence, confidence and vulnerability, traits that Edmund knew he would need to rely on as a future viscount. Violet confirmed it to Anthony during their graveside chat, that Edmund was both a strong and dutiful viscount, but also made time for love. It’s clear that the personalities of all his children - especially his sons - are each facets of his own (and Violet’s, I won’t discount her), and your fic demonstrates that so beautifully by focusing in on these two, the romantics in the family.  🥹

THEN YOU START TO BUILD THE POEM 😭 “No pain or burden will be too much to bear.” Tears, just tears pouring down my face as these little words and phrases jump out, showing us that Benedict’s off-the-cuff love poem for Anthony 10 years later was inspired by the wisdom of their father. That Benedict treasured his words and remembered them verbatim for the rest of his life… That it guides the way he sees the world and the way he loves… I am broken.

“Use it as an anchor point.” I just about threw my laptop across the room. Are you TRYING to kill me?????

Violet is standing among the hyacinths. In that fateful spot where we all know what happens. Stop stop stop stop 😭😭😭😭

“It will be as easy as breathing.” Tell me you’ve read AOFAG without telling me you’ve read AOFAG. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“Sometimes after you had put the book down, he would flip through the pages and try to find you there.” My god, what beautiful imagery. You are so incredibly talented 💙

Then the breathtaking description, from Ben’s POV, of how he saw and loved Reader. Absolutely gorgeous, so real, acknowledging both of their weaknesses and flaws, but that they always gave each other space and support for them. Ugh, every word of this tugged at my already shredded heart. A sweet happy ending to this exploration of Ben’s soul.

I know I rag on you for hurting me with your words but I enjoy it so much. You evoke so many feelings with your work, and it's always a satisfying experience. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🙏

From A Father To A Son

Pairings:  Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton & Edmund Bridgerton

Summary - Benedict has held his father’s words close to his heart for his entire life. The model of love that his parents provided set an uncompromising standard. All of the pieces to the puzzle didn’t fully align until he fell in love with you. Although his father is gone, Benedict gets to experience the love of his life through the lens of his father’s parting sage wisdom.

Warnings - This one is pretty tame. I toned down the angst and dialed up the romance. It is sickeningly sweet.

Word Count - 3.1K

Author’s Note - The song inspiration for this one was If You Love Her by Forest Blakk. It isn’t necessary to listen before you read, but if you want a soundtrack… This is where my brain was lol

_______________________________________________

Spring was always Benedict’s favorite time of year, in spite of the fact that it held some of the most painful moments of his life. The world was coming back alive. Colors brightened, days grew longer, and the sun soaked into everything it touched, greeting those in its embrace with a warm hello. It was a time for new beginnings. A time that embodied promises of better things to come. That’s probably why it seemed to be the time of year when the world fell in love. 

Wedding season was in full bloom. He had already watched three of his old friends from school tie the knot this year. Each time he witnessed a bride take her first steps toward the rest of her life, he would turn and look at you. You were always there, right by his side, looking more lovely with each passing day. He watched you, as you watched her. Your eyes would mist over with joy, and when you felt his gaze on you, your skin would turn the most alluring shade of pink he had ever seen. That was always his favorite part.

He could never resist the urge to reach over and join your hand with his, watching together, as the two people before you joined their lives in a sacred union. Naturally, it would always send his mind down a certain trajectory. With the warmth of your palm pressing into his, it was easy to imagine your future, and he would think to himself, some day. 

Keep reading

[onefleshonepod]

Hi! My wife is looking for some new books and I was trying to remember one that was mentioned briefly on the podcast- something about lesbians who can’t touch each other? And then they brush pinkies at some point? What was that book? (Also, your analysis is brilliant and we both love the podcast soooo much!!)

hi! 🖤 thank you so much for the kind words!!

i’m very sorry to say that the book in question is not about lesbians – it’s six of crows, a young adult novel by leigh bardugo (in the same universe as the grisha books, which were recently adapted as a tv show on netflix).

the couple we love brush pinkies for two microseconds in the sequel which completes the duology, crooked kingdom (mild spoilers for the first book in the plot summary on goodreads).

i (baily) love these two books so much (as does kabriya). all the characters are delightful and well fleshed-out, the books are very funny, and there’s an exciting and twisty plot which tests all of the characters and slowly reveals their backstories.

some more book recommendations, for you/your wife and for other people who may be interested:

sticking to leigh bardugo’s work to start, i also love this book of short fairy tales from the same grisha universe (my review on goodreads). kind of hate linking my own goodreads review here in a self-indulgent way, but i hate the idea of rewriting reviews and summaries i've already written more, so there you go.

i honestly find leigh bardugo very inspirational because she substantially improved as a writer between her first series, the grisha trilogy (which relies heavily on ya cliches like the mean girl, the most specialest chosen girl ever, and the love triangle with normal guy next door and hot but morally questionable guy) and the crows duology.

if you’re looking for things to read that are like the locked tomb:

more work by tamsyn herself:

her novella “the deepwater bride,” which is not available online but can be purchased for a reasonable price here.

“the magician’s apprentice,” which is available in full here, is an early exploration of some of the themes that arise in john’s relationships with alecto and harrow in the locked tomb

“chew,” a short story about cannibalism set during wwii

"the woman in the hill" (have not read)

“the house that made the sixteen loops of time” (have not read)

wlw sff books i have enjoyed, in no particular order:

a memory called empire by arkady martine: an anti-imperialist epic, written with a historian’s love for the byzantine and aztec empires. intricate worldbuilding with spectacular little diegetic poems and excerpts that i personally really enjoy. also uses the 70s science fiction conceit of overthinking social encounters to the point where one conversation can take up to fifteen pages (think dune and early dragonriders of pern) – i love this but i know some people who grew up reading today’s snappy ya fiction really don’t. contains a memory device that i suspect tamsyn was inspired by for aim/the messenger. a debut novel with some pacing issues – it read a bit like an exponential growth graph, leaving barely enough time to explain what was happening before the book was over. i haven’t read the sequels (i have a hardcover copy of the second book sitting on my desk literally right now) but hopefully they are better paced.

the traitor baru cormorant by seth dickinson: i’ve ragged on this series for its heavy-handed writing, telling and not showing, and thinly-sketched time skips, but despite all that it’s an enjoyable read. a very dark anti-imperialist tragedy set in a homophobic empire loosely based on late victorian britain. lots of economic intrigue. has similar psychological and medical horror to harrow the ninth beginning in the second book, if that’s something you enjoyed.

the unspoken name by a.k. larkwood: the story is thrilling, the world is interesting, the characters are lovable, the names are luxurious, the romance is cute, and i plan to read the sequel. the science fantasy vibe is very similar to tlt. however, this book is trying to cram three books into one. the time skips are frustrating because it robs you of organically coming to know and like these characters. loved it but be warned!

she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan: speculative historical fiction about a chinese emperor (do not google this emperor like i did bc you will be spoiled for some elements of the story!!), with minor fantasy elements. parker-chan does interesting things with gender if you’re interested in that aspect of the locked tomb series. however, it is definitely set in quasi-fantasy ancient china, not a homophobia- and sexism-free future. this was my favourite of the three major adult fantasy novels with central f/f relationships released in 2021 that were often lumped together on social media, lol.

speaking of those novels, i also enjoyed the unbroken by c.l. clark. it has a similar anti-imperialist storyline to the locked tomb, inspired by the real-world history of morocco and france. definitely has some debut novel issues (the pacing was very uneven), but i loved the characters.

foundryside by robert jackson bennett: a unique magic system called 'scriving' that allows you to essentially speak to objects, interesting plot, and a sweet but honestly kind of understated and forgettable romance. slow to start but has a satisfying and wild ending that sets up the next book in the series.

the ruthless lady’s guide to wizardry by c.m. waggoner: a light but delightful and hilarious fantasy romance. not at all similar to the locked tomb in terms of atmosphere – this has oddball victorian steampunk vibes.

the long way to a small, angry planet by becky chambers: in many ways, this series not at all like the locked tomb – it’s very cosy and sweet and low-stakes. in one way, though, it is like tlt – imo the locked tomb is fundamentally a warm-hearted book series full of love for humanity, even though there is a lot of horror and loss and grief. you can’t take loved away, etc etc. becky chambers writes from the same point of view on life and love, but without the horrors. these books always have interesting and inventive worldbuilding. sometimes the voice of the author peeks through in a clumsy way when detailing the leftist policies of her invented worlds but since i generally agree with the author politically it doesn’t bother me. the excellent sequels are linked stories, not a direct continuation of the same plot.

sisters of the vast black by lina rather: hey, nuns in space!! some of them are gay. i gave this four stars right after reading but i can't remember anything about it, so take from that what you will.

the raven and the reindeer by t. kingfisher: wlw retelling of the snow queen!

daughter of mystery by heather rose jones: alternate history fantasy romance / fantasy of manners set in a made-up european country. enjoyable lady and bodyguard dynamic.

monstrous regiment by terry pratchett: fantasy comedy about a fictional war in discworld. the fact that i'm putting this in wlw is a bit of a spoiler; i'm sorry, try to forget that.

some wlw sff books i thought were “okay” to “fine” but you might like better:

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon: i feel obliged to recommend this because we’ve mentioned it so much on the pod. a solid three stars. interesting enough, just not mindblowing in any way. here's a good although mildly spoilery review if you're interested in a more articulate encapsulation of some of my issues with this book.

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone: it’s fine. too flowery for my taste. would have preferred to read unrelated poems from these authors and read this story written by other people.

starless by jacqueline carey: standalone fantasy with a very promising start, great central relationship, and well-sketched setting, but the plot slots into a prophecy that’s already 90% complete and the world is saved all within the last 50 pages. as long as you’re not expecting anything else, you’ll probably enjoy it! i like jacqueline carey's other work as well. i read her book santa olivia like a decade and change ago; iirc it's a wlw romance between a boxer and a werewolf in a post-apocalyptic future, but i barely remember it so can't really rec it.

bone shard daughter by andrea stewart: it’s decent. an anti-imperialist story set in a society reminiscent of ancient china. there are lesbians. interesting magic system built on draining life from unwilling subjects of the empire to create magical constructs with, essentially, computer code written on shards of these subjects’ bones.

the jasmine throne by tasha suri: another book that is fine. also anti-imperialist, with interesting magic based on spirits from hindu mythology. i loved the worldbuilding inspired by indian history. there were definitely pacing issues in this book though – the central relationship lurched from place to place without any super natural development in between, and it seemed like the book was trying to end about seven times before it actually did.

non wlw sff i love:

a natural history of dragons by marie brennan: a personal favourite of mine. the beginning of a series following essentially a female charles darwin in an alternate history england. really is nothing at all like the locked tomb but i love it so much. here's my non-spoilery review of the fifth book.

provenance by ann leckie: my review on goodreads. i personally got really pissed off at the ancillary justice series for doing a hard left turn away from the universe-spanning objectives and alien horror i expected based on book one, but i love the author’s other work, including this book.

all systems red and the rest of the murderbot series by martha wells: nothing but hilarious romps with murderbot. i can never remember anything that happened after i finish reading but i always enjoy the experience. here's my review. i love martha wells��� other work as well, like this standalone fantasy novel and this portal fantasy series. there’s an author-approved free download of her debut novel available here.

the curse of chalion and the sequel, paladin of souls, by lois mcmaster bujold: very warm and happy and above all thoughtful reads. my review of paladin of souls is here. the penric and desdemona series is set in the same world; it's a gentle and feel-good novella series which only gets better as it goes on. lois mcmaster bujold is best known for the vorkosigan saga, which is extremely good – don’t START with my favourite, komarr, but please read enough so that you love miles and then read komarr (my review here).

the goblin emperor by katherine addison: god this is so good. SO good. i can't put it better than i did in my review.

velocity weapon by megan e. o'keefe: a somewhat complicated but mostly straightforward scifi adventure – the complexity comes from the timeline and structure of the book, something i enjoy picking apart in the locked tomb.

spinning silver by naomi novik: i love naomi novik’s writing and plotting. imo, her plots unfold in the same inexorable way as tamsyn muir’s, where the characters are established and placed in situations such that they move into and resolve conflict in a way that is shocking and thrilling at first read but perfectly fitting and inevitable in hindsight.

natasha pulley’s slow but thrilling novels, particularly the watchmaker of filigree street (my review) and the bedlam stacks (my review).

sixteen ways to defend a walled city by k.j. parker: a whip-smart fantasy based on the byzantine empire (or the late western roman empire). anti-imperialist story from the perspective of someone within the empire itself. uses the very weak device of just swapping skin colours and doing Fantasy Racism against the white people, which you just kind of have to laugh at. the narrator is very misogynistic but imo funny enough to get away with it – you can tell the author is making fun of his character as much as the character is bitterly taking witty jabs at the world around him. there are 3 books in this series now, all excellent.

the wee free men by terry pratchett: speaking of monstrous regiment and terry pratchett, nona pov reminded me a lot of tiffany aching, beloved of younger me.

rivers of london and the rest of series by ben aaronovitch: my review here of the first book. the subsequent books are all better than the first, tbh, but the first isn't bad by any means, just kind of weird. the series has a charming protagonist with a very gideon-like outlook on the world (for a straight dude lol).

infomocracy by malka older: thought-provoking near-future scifi.

powers by ursula k. leguin: showcases ursula k. leguin's always-excellent worldbuilding. profoundly human and full of love. my review here.

winter’s orbit by everina maxwell: m/m scifi romance. i have to be honest, i read this first when it was published as original fiction on ao3 and i haven’t read the published version, but i don’t think it’s changed too much except to add more political intrigue. very sweet. contains a memorable scene with scifi skiing.

sunshine by robin mckinley: my favourite ever vampire story. robin mckinley has also has done a lot of excellent fairy tale retellings.

sff short reads:

this list is already way too long, so i'm just going to recommend two short story authors i love:

rich larson, story 1 that i love (my review), story 2 that i love (my review).

sarah pinsker, story 1 that i love, story 2 that i love

non-fiction (specifically about space):

the end of everything by katie mack: my review.

packing for mars by mary roach: i love mary roach so much. a laugh-out-loud read.

poetry for locked tomb fans:

incarnadine by mary szybist: strong gothic catholic vibes. i described this collection on gr as “numinous and gruesome.”

poems by denise levertov, who converted to catholicism in 1984. i prefer her poems about nature, but there's a lot of stuff there for the religion enjoyers.

horror:

i'm absolutely not a horror connoisseur, but the horror book that i think gideon the ninth fans are most likely to enjoy is we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson. there's a fucked-up sibling relationship, a horrible antagonist who's just some guy, wild twists and turns, and a big old crumbling house.

i also loved the bloody chamber by andrea carter, particularly the bluebeard retelling.

the merry spinster by danny lavery: more dark fairy tale retellings. my review here.

[queerprayers]

hey, do you have any lent ideas? i’m not a very observant/emotionally spiritually engaged catholic at this point in my life. but i am mentally and culturally there. like i want to keep doing this tradition, even if i haven’t been to church in a while and don’t imagine taking myself for a long while.

however, i just don’t know what i can give up. i really don’t spend money on anything i don’t need, and taking away some of that from myself just seems cruel. limiting luxuries wouldn’t be noticeable. idk what to do!

much love <3

Hello, beloved! Great question!

If your life is already simple, especially if you don't have very much, you're right, taking away something that makes you happy would just be miserable. There's a lot of assumption that goes into Lent suggestions/guidelines, and one of those is that the person reading them is reasonably well-off, regularly has enough to eat, and has a lot of extra things/activities in their life. For so many of us, these things aren't true.

So let's take the focus away from punishing/limiting and find a practice that you can add/include in your life! Here are some ideas—and anyone's welcome to add their own suggestions in the replies.

Start a daily/almost-daily/whenever-you-can prayer practice! We got the rosary, prayer books, guided meditation, taking a walk in the woods, crying—all great ways to pray. (My prayer tag)

Start/come back to/continue reading the Bible! (My Bible tag)

Set aside a day of rest/prayer! You could look into the Jewish Sabbath tradition (note: we're researching & taking inspiration here, not appropriating specific practices), follow a more traditional Christian Sunday-is-the-Lord's-day practice, or create your own way to, once a week (or when you can), remember who you are, that work isn't everything, and that rest is God-ordained.

Start/continue a creative practice, like journaling, poetry, or art! Maybe start keeping a daily journal or write a poem every day. No perfectionism allowed, and no one ever has to see what you create—create for yourself and God. The Artist's Way is a book/practice that really helped me create a spiritual philosophy re: my art. It can be a bit self-help-y/cheesy at times, but it definitely introduced me to a new frame of mind. You can start with its creative affirmations.

Pick a book to read—there are many Lenten devotionals available, but it could be any theme/genre. My absolute favorite Lent book is queering lent by the poet slats, and this year I'm checking out O Beautiful Dust by RW Walker, which was just published by one of my friends!

Pick a subject to research! It doesn't have to be specifically religious—learning about anything can bring you closer to God and the created world. I've been learning a lot about Mary Magdalene recently.

Start/continue being politically active! Register to vote, call your local officials (see this website if in the US), attend a protest, join an organization, learn about an issue.

Volunteer! My favorite suggestion will always be your local library, but you can also look into food pantries, animal shelters, and children's programs. You can also volunteer for a variety of online projects here.

Reach out to someone you haven't talked to in a while—maybe someone you've harmed or has harmed you (if it's safe), or someone you accidentally never replied to, or someone you want to get closer to. God is love, and your relationship to God is bound up in your relationships with others.

Start/continue a physical practice, such as yoga. I always always will shout out Yoga With Adriene. (If you're not Indian, and especially if you're white, maybe check out Decolonizing Yoga as well.)

That's what I got for now. There's no pressure to reinvent your religious/spiritual life, and there are not have-to's when it comes to this season. However we get to Easter, we get there. Even if nothing at all about your life changes in the next forty days (+ Sundays), Easter will come. Memonto mori (remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return), memento vivere (remember that you are alive, and you will be resurrected).

<3 Johanna

[whilereadingandwalking]

An Evening with Neil Gaiman in Chicago

On a warm night on Friday the 13th, Neil Gaiman strode on stage in the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago. A packed crowd held their recently purchased signed books close as he settled in at the podium, dark blue and grey cloud shifting on a curtain behind him. He had to ask the crowd to calm down, before noting that Chicago is one of the first places he did readings back in the day.

Over the course of the evening, Gaiman read “Orange,” requested by Cat Mihos, and a poem about Batman dedicated to Neal Adams; to my delight, he read “The October Tale,” one of my favorite short stories; and he read “The Price,” which he described as a Midwestern story, “a story as much about living here as it is about anything else.” 

He would finish out the night with a reading of “What You Need to Be Warm,” a poem he wrote in his role as United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees ambassador to usher in a 2019 winter emergency appeal to help refugees. The night held hushed, teary silences, but also many laughs.

@neil-gaiman interspersed readings with answering pre-submitted audience questions—he mentioned early on that our stack of post-its, index cards, and torn-off pieces of paper held the best set of questions he’d seen on his tour.

Here are a couple highlights.

Favorite character to write?

Delirium. “Because she did her own dialogue. And most characters don’t.”

A lot of your works are inspired by religion. How do you do that research?

“I would have loved to have been a practical theologian.” Actually, no, he corrected—he would have liked to be “somebody who professionally made up religions.” The job doesn’t exist, he said. “But it ought to.”

How does he feel about people idolizing his works and teaching them in classrooms?

“Uncomfortable.” Why? “Because I loathe Thomas Hardy.” And he suspects that if he hadn’t been forced to read Hardy at age 12, he maybe could have liked him just fine. So he worries a bit about his works being taught in classrooms.

What advice do you have for working with an artist or illustrator?

He advised asking two questions: What do you like drawing or want to draw that you haven’t gotten to much? and What don’t you like drawing? It can get you into an artist’s good graces, and you also want to be able to try and work with what they’re good at and try to amplify it, push them to be even better. McKean hated drawing big crowds of people—Sam Keith enjoyed it—Jill Thompson doesn’t like cars.

Americans Gods the show gave Laura more personhood (”It did,” he agreed). Will Anansi Boys do the same for its women characters, and how do you feel about updating of your material?

Anansi Boys has wrapped shooting and will be a six-episode miniseries. It will have more of Rosie and Daisy and who they are than in the book, and he’s very proud of this. Neil said at the start that while he would write the first and final episodes, he wanted other writers in the room. Ultimately he worked with four writers of color—two of whom were women—to produce the full product of the Anansi Boys that we’ll get on-screen.

I admit I was personally proud that he answered this one, as it was my question.

What fountain pen and ink are you using right now?

He is using a Pilot 823 and a Namiki Falcon, primarily to sign books. He uses a lot of Pilot inks, because they offer well-packaged, secure sample sizes, which he can buy in a wide variety of wonderful colors, and which then won’t be as much of a liability to the rest of his luggage while traveling on tour.

Who is the coolest person you’ve worked with and why is it Terry Pratchett?

Terry was always certain that he wasn’t cool “and he was terrified that I ‘was.’” But Neil will never forget when Terry called him and said, Do you remember that story you sent me? Are you doing anything with that? And Neil said no, he was very busy with Sandman. “I know what happens next,” Terry said. So they had two options: Neil could sell him the idea, or they could write the book together. 

Of course Neil said that they should write it together. “It was like Michelangelo calling you up and saying ‘Do you want to do a ceiling together?’”

Favorite Pratchett story?

One day after Terry’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, he called up Neil, starting the call (as he always did) with, “Hallo. It’s me.” He was writing a memoir and couldn’t remember something. Could Neil help him? Neil felt a flood of emotion. His good friend, his brilliant friend, couldn’t remember something. “I could be your memory, Terry,” he said internally.

Well, Terry said, do you remember in November 1990, we were on a book tour for Good Omens? And we went to that radio interview and the interviewer had read the cover but hadn’t realized it was fiction, and he asked us what was so interesting about Agnes Nutter and her prophecies, and we told him, and he believed us? And we would see the engineers, and they knew, because they were knocking against the glass to get his attention? And we let him go on for 15 minutes before letting him off the hook? (Neil noted here that Terry was the one who did so, and that he did it very gracefully, making it seem like the host had been in on the joke the whole time.) And remember how we left the studio and walked down the street singing “Shoehorn with Teeth” by They Might Be Giants?

Yes, Neil said. But...what did you need me to remember?

“Was it 30th Street, or 34th?”

When is Sandman coming to Netflix?

He doesn’t know. Netflix will tell us, when they figure it out. “They say they have algorithms and plans, but I think they just go into a dark room with a knife and plunge it into the wall” then turn on the lights and see what calendar date they hit.

Where would your secret lair be, if you had one?

“I’m a traditionalist, so in an extinct volcano above a shark pit.”

[mimisempai]

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

Choose your number(s) ! 1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

From @chdarling

[gleefanfictionfriday]

July & August Masterpost

Between the months of July and August, we have 5 posting days. Below, you’ll find links to each of the stories posted, divided by author. We would LOVE to have more of you participate! It’s always awesome to have more authors and more new stories to read. Remember, you can fill any prompt any time after the prompt is posted, and you can post your fill any time after the posting day for the prompt. Please consider joining us!

Meanwhile, if you haven’t had a chance to yet, please check out the works that have been posted for our prompt fills! They’re amazing! Enjoy!

Stranger Than Crackfiction by @gleefulpoppet Multi-Chapter work: Chapters One through Five (Chapter Six now available) Summary: [AU] In the magical land of Hollywood where dreams come true, there’s an adage that states, "It’s impossible to tell what is real and what is fiction." It’s even harder for Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson to separate as they were thrown into stardom overnight six years ago, and their show, His & His, is still the hottest thing on TV. Add to that being head over heels in love with each other, addicted to fanfiction, and have a propensity for roleplaying, and it’s got everyone buzzing as fans try to decide what these Hollywood stars are up to. Because sometimes, reality is stranger than crackfiction. Read it now on AO3!!!

Braid of Gold by @jayhawk-writes​ (In Every Lifetime series Part 16) Multi-Chapter work: Chapters One through Four (Chapter Five now available) Summary: Kurt and Blaine ask Caphriel to make the decision about where they go next. He chooses a lifetime where Kurt and Blaine will have to navigate a situation they've not yet been in. They'll have to work through loss and betrayal and ultimately, their bond will be stronger as a family because of it. Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Stargazing Memories by @jayhawk-writes One-shot Summary: Kurt reminisces on some of his experiences here in Cassville while waiting for Blaine to show up. This is one of those memories. (This story was inspired by KB.Ellen’s Summer Story.) Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Nerds by @jayhawk-writes One-shot Summary: Kurt decides to move away from home for college to a much more liberal town than Lima. So what if it happens to be the same place his favorite team is? That’s just icing on the cake. He fully expects to go to classes and make friends. What he doesn't expect is to meet the love of his life in the most unexpected of places while wearing the most unlikely of outfits. Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Poppet’s Standards of Communication by @jayhawk-writes One-shot - Part of the Outlined on My Finger ‘verse Summary: Kurt and Blaine are excited to read and learn from Poppet as she releases her first book into the world. Their communication is already pretty good. How much better will it get after reading her advice? Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Could I Have This Dance? by @jayhawk-writes One-shot - Part of the Outlined on My Finger ‘verse Summary: This wasn't exactly what Blaine had in mind when he told Kurt he fantasized about lap dances. He loves it just the same, though, and he'll never think of science the same way again. (Directly follows Poppet’s Standards of Communication) Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Crimson Yarn by @teddyshoney​ (In Every Lifetime series Part 15) Multi-chapter work - Complete Summary: Back from New York, Kurt has just purchased a lake house in need of fixing up to keep him busy while he tries to heal from his past relationship. Back from LA, Blaine reluctantly takes a job from his father while he mourns the loss of his dream. Will red yarn, coffee, and some heavy conversation be enough for both boys to realize that there may be an answer to their healing right in front of them? Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Do You Have A Moo? by @teddyshoney One-shot - Part of the Klaine Goes to Daycare series Summary: Four-year-old Kurt is excited to get to daycare. Why? It's "'magination Friday," and they get to play dress-up. But thanks to having to eat breakfast before playing, Kurt doesn't get to play the part he wants to play. Blaine, however, is determined to make it all better for him. Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Five Letters and A Geronimo Lily by @teddyshoney One-shot Summary: Letters slipped under doors, flower delivery, showers, and singing. Shared apartment walls are typically so annoying. Not this time. This time, they're a blessing. Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

Football and Gaga by @teddyshoney One-shot Summary: Kurt and Blaine have been dating for nearly 18 months when Blaine comes up with the perfect plan to surprise the love of his life. However, he missed just a few important details, and now he needs Burt's help—complete with codenames and phrases—if he's going to pull this off and give Kurt a magical 18 month anniversary. Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

The Poetry Marathon by @teddyshoney One-shot Summary: Blaine's set himself a goal: 24 poems in 24 hours. He's focused, and he's going to complete his challenge. Kurt, on the other hand, would really like just a couple of moments to distract him because he NEEDS Blaine. Read it now on AO3 or FF.net!!!

[life-observed]

Interview with Ijeoma Umebinyuo

I know who I am and where I am from. Shrinking myself is not an option. — Ijeoma Umebinyuo

Women of color don’t often have the luxury of sitting down to read poetry in which the words are affirmations of our lives, our pain, our love, our happiness, our sadness. We’re told to quiet ourselves, that our experiences aren’t as important, they don’t matter to the rest of the world. Our love, our resilience has allowed us to push past such notions. I remember being curled up in bed, reading Questions for Ada and feeling such gratitude that Ijeoma Umebinyuo had written such beautiful, heartbreaking and affirming words.

I am happy to share my interview with Ijeoma. I also hope that those of you who haven’t yet read Questions for Ada, will soak in her poems with as much love as I did.

When did you first start writing poems?

My father insists I began writing when I was seven years old. I remember writing poetry at the age of ten. The same age I fell in love with books and writing.

Image courtesy of Ijeoma Umebinyuo

Who is your intended audience?

For a lot of people who do not see themselves represented often in literature. For African girls and boys. For black girls. For women with color. For immigrants. For those who feel alone. For mental health. For everyone and anyone who believes that healing is needed, that narratives like mine are not only important but very necessary. Ultimately, I am writing because of the human experience.

What parts of your identity contribute the most to your writing?

My identity as an Igbo woman, as an African and a child who was born and raised in Nigeria.

If you identify as a feminist, how has it influenced your writing?

I am a feminist. I am a womanist, I am aware of what happens when race and gender are erased and it is important none of that is done to me.

For a woman to write, to speak, to narrate and to curate stories like I do, being a feminist isn’t an option: It is a necessity.

What is your writing process? Is it free-flowing, unexpected, edited, careful?

Sometimes, it is free-flowing. Sometimes it is sitting up all night and editing. Sometimes, it is unexpected with editing afterwards. Careful? No, I believe in writing dangerously.

I cannot think of a single poem that I read in Questions for Ada to which I didn’t connect to. Every one was affirming and healing. Who inspires your poems?

Thank you for connecting to my words. You know, while writing, I am inspired by my grandmother who was stopped from being as equally educated as her brothers because she was born a woman. I am inspired by my grandfather whose storytelling skills are unmatched.

I have found that as a WoC that making a space for myself within this world can be difficult but reading your poems helped me see that there is room for us, for our ideas and emotions. Is there anything in particular which keeps you receptive to all the themes you write about without feeling like you need to shrink yourself or words?

I am a strong believer in knowing who you are and what you believe in. Writing to me is political, I have grown and will keep growing with my writings but the foundation of who I am will never be compromised. I believe in knowing your power and using that. I believe in finding your purpose; growing and constantly learning. I will be the first to tell you that nobody will tell me who I am, just like Chinua Achebe said. I believe when you find your voice, you have to unwrap it and use it. It is very important.

When has shrinking ourselves because of fear helped us? It has never helped. Fear is an emotion that should visit and when it leaves, it should make you brave. It should make you want to do more, create more and learn more. Fear is normal but when we let fear stay too long, it paralyses us.

You see, we are privileged to have platforms to celebrate us. Platforms we can use to make our voices heard, why not use it? What is fear? If the truth is on your side, what is fear? Believing in fear makes us shrink, makes us disbelievers of our power.

The more we think our voice is not important, the more we lose our right to own our narrative.

There has never been a group of people whose loss of their narrative did not contribute to their downfall, the story you tell is the most powerful. I come from an oral tradition, I believe that the written word combined with the oral tradition of storytelling is even more powerful. The written word cannot be erased. Political dissidents are prosecuted for writing, how powerful is that? That writing stands in the face of oppression and does not back down. We must always remember, we have the key to that room, the room where your ideas and emotions are welcomed. You have the key. I know who I am and where I am from. Shrinking myself is not an option.

[itsshewhowrites]

About Me

Hello, loves! My name is Yashvi Shah and I’m 20 years old. I’m from India and have been living in Canada for a decade and half. I’m currently a university student!

Writing Life

I’ve loved reading and writing for as long as I could remember. I haven’t read a lot of works but I try to read whenever I can! My best friend introduced me to Wattpad—a global reading and writing platform that’s beyond 1D fan-fictions—in 2016. That’s when my life changed forever.

I discovered a side of me that I never new existed, and before I knew it, I began my writing journey. I started off with a fan-fiction book titled Weeping Angel, which was inspired by the Doctor Who episode of weeping angels and a creepypasta story. I don’t watch Doctor Who, but the whole concept of these creatures intrigued me. I edited this book three times, with the third draft being the one I’m most proud of because the previous too were incredibly cringe and filled with plot holes. In the third draft, I’ve changed the title to Weeping Angel: Malvada. Although I think it deserves a fourth round of editing because there will be second book.

I’ve also tried my hand at romance/YA/teen fiction and science fiction, but like everything, they too deserve a few rounds of editing and polishing. Besides that, I’ve written a few short stories and poetry over the years. I’ve completed one poetry book filled with random poems I wrote for fun or for school, and my second poetry book is an anthology that is close to my heart. You can learn more about why I chose to write this book on my Instagram page (scroll down to find my social media accounts!). I will be posting this poetry on Tumblr as well!

In January of 2020, I posted my first blog article on Medium—a popular storytelling platform. I write 2-3 articles per month on average about interesting topics that help others learn and grow. I’ve written ten articles so far, and I’m working on a bunch of more!

Goals and Ambitions

I hope to become a published author one day and be a freelance writer, or work at Wattpad. I want to make a difference in this life, whether it be in my life or other’s lives. I want to be recognized by my work and want to grow and connect with others. I aim to offer relatable content in my writing that comes from my heart so people could know more about me and acknowledge that we’re all a lot similar than we think.

I’m not really sure where life will take me, but I’m sure I’ll have a great journey. Every moment, every day spent is a new learning experience.

Social Media

Instagram, Wattpad, Twitter, Medium: @ itsshewhowrites.

[mediawhorefics]

hello!! can you recommend some poetry books?

heyyy! 

i can def try, but i feel like this should come with a disclaimer...

while i love poetry (and i genuinely do), it was always the one thing i struggled most with analysing at uni. so i always feel like i’m not really in a position to be any sort of authority re: poetry. i try to read it with as little hassle as possible and let it do its thing. if it elicits a response from me, great! if it doesn’t, whatever...  i’m not going to overthink it. so yeah, not to say i take poetry at face value, but i really don’t overthink ever. and tbh, for a long time i left it with just a poem here and there, quotes from tumblr, etc. and it’s really only this year that i’ve given myself the challenge to actually read full collections. so on the plus side, lots of fresh recs for you.... but yeah, i’m far from an expert. it’s def not what i read the most... 

(i think part of it is the non-native English speaker anxiety... nothing like being in a class full of anglophones talking about stressed and unstressed syllables while you’re there going I DON’T KNOW THIS SHIT DOESN’T COME NATURALLY TO ME !!!!!!!!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE HEEEEERE. so yeah, i hated poetry classes.) 

still, here are a few old favs and recent reads: 

as you might know already, leonard cohen IS everything to me. the two collections i own from him are ‘book of longing’ and ‘the flame’ but i’d rec anything by him tbh. i adore his writing. 

i did really enjoy ‘crush’ by richard siken, though i read it a while ago. 

i recently read ‘dearly’ by margaret atwood, her most recent collection. i’ve been meaning to read her poetry for ages and i def. want to go back and read her older stuff now that i’ve read this one. i adore her as a person and i’ve loved pretty much everything i’ve read from her (which admittedly isn’t a lot and isn’t her most popular stuff but!). 

i’ve also been going through mary oliver’s stuff lately. i read ‘thirst’, ‘felicity’, ‘house of light’, & ‘a thousand mornings’ pretty much back to back so it’s hard for me to pick a favourite. they kind of blend together. but i’ve really enjoyed her writing. 

i’ve been doing a lot of wwi research for a writing project so i’ve been collecting materials to read, kind of building a bibliography if you will.... there’s obvs a lot of very well known poetry from that period. i haven’t read even a fraction of what i want to, but the latest poetry collection i finished was a penguin edition of wilfred owen’s poems and i really really enjoyed that. it’s .... rough and heartwrenching but there’s some beautiful stuff in there. 

i own a selection of e.e. cummings poetry that i think i got for uni and i remember enjoying it at the time, but it’s been years so i don’t know how much i’d stand behind that know. 

i def. want to reread whitman because i was too young/not far enough into my lit studies to appreciate it at the time and i kind of half-assed it, which he doesn’t deserve. so my copy of leaves of grass is def. gonna get dusted off soon i think. 

it’s been a while but i def. remember liking some rimbaud in high school. i don’t know how re: good translations of his work though.  

and that’s all that comes to mind straight away... which is very meagre but i did say it wasn’t my area of expertise. still, i hope you find at least one thing in there to inspire you? 

and if anyone reading this has any poetry recommendations for me and anon, i would love that. because it’s something i kind of told myself i’d explore more this year  (i have so far) and i’d love your thoughts x