#lgbt writer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, Tumblr had 29.4 million users in the US.

ghoulishbuck · 7 months

Text

Things I love about writing: forcing my trauma and irrational thoughts on my characters, the fact that it’s free therapy, the fact that I can tell writers or readers that I’m playing out my story in my head and not be called lazy, the community, the idea of getting published one day.

Things I dislike about writing: writing- why doesn’t everything in my head automatically transfer over. And the process of getting traditionally published.

#writer #queer writers #writerblr #writer things #queer writer #writer problems #lgbt writer #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #lgbt writers #writing #lgbtq writer #writerslife #lgbtq writers #author

439 notes · View notes

makingqueerhistory · 6 months

Text

Body Work: The Radical Power of Personal Narrative

Melissa Febos

In this bold and exhilarating mix of memoir and master class, Melissa Febos tackles the emotional, psychological, and physical work of writing intimately while offering an utterly fresh examination of the storyteller's life and the questions which run through it. How might we go about capturing on the page the relationships that have formed us? How do we write about our bodies, their desires and traumas? What does it mean for an author's way of writing, or living, to be dismissed as "navel-gazing"--or else hailed as "so brave, so raw"? And to whom, in the end, do our most intimate stories belong? Drawing on her own path from aspiring writer to acclaimed author and writing professor--via addiction and recovery, sex work and academia--Melissa Febos has created a captivating guide to the writing life, and a brilliantly unusual exploration of subjectivity, privacy, and the power of divulgence. Candid and inspiring, Body Work will empower readers and writers alike, offering ideas--and occasional notes of caution--to anyone who has ever hoped to see themselves in a story.

(Affiliate link above)

#queer #lgbt #making queer history #queer books #queer nonfiction #queer author #queer authors #queer writer #lgbt writer #lgbt author #lgbt books

136 notes · View notes

llyfrenfys · 10 months

Text

Followers- Dw i angen eich help / I need your help

This is a post I've been sitting on for a while and it's time I finally write it to let you all know how I am, where I'm at and the progress of Prosiect Llyfr Enfys.

So, as I alluded to in previous posts, I had a health scare at the end of May which landed me in the hospital. I've spent June recovering from that and dealing with a few life changes as well (which I will talk about later).

Unfortunately, me and my partner had to deal with an unexpected bill of £200 this month which had to come directly out of my savings and is a huge chunk of it.

I've been doing research in preparation for hopefully doing a Masters at Aberystwyth in September on the topic of LGBTQ+ Welsh terminology before the 20th Century. My undergraduate dissertation was on the topic of 20th-21st Century LGBTQ+ Welsh terminology (which is currently unmarked due to the marking boycott). Hopefully after graduation I can share it with you. But my research into older terminology means needing to travel to different archives and libraries in Wales, which at the minute, I just can't afford. The closest place would be Bangor, but I have no money to spare at the minute and Prosiect Llyfr Enfys is not funded by any scheme or grant- it's currently all funded by myself.

For the first time in my life, I've been considering using a food bank. We're not quite at that stage yet, but it's precarious. It's another unexpected bill away from a critical situation.

Currently, my monthly expenses for anything related to the dictionary totals around £40 (subscriptions to archives, libraries, genealogy research tools) which have been instrumental in my work. For example, I couldn't have written my articles for Hanes LHDT+ Cymru without access to ancestry sites or online newspaper archives. This does not include other expenses such as bus tickets to get to the National Library of Wales when I need to, or costs of purchasing dictionaries in order to source them in my work.

All of this is to say that i need your help:

I have a patreon which I will be posting in next in July- if you enjoy Prosiect Llyfr Enfys and want to help keep it going, please consider subscribing today by clicking the link above or in my bio. The lowest tier is affordable and if you have the cash to spare, will enable me to keep on working on the project. If you want to make a one-time donation, I'm considering enabling tips on tumblr for those who would prefer that.

If enough people are able to subscribe to keep the project going, I can start to make some concrete plans for a trip to Bangor and share my journey with you all and involve you in the trip. If I'm unable to raise enough funds, I will have to make the decision to pause the project until after my Master's. I do not currently have a publisher, which is also a big factor in that decision, if I need to make it.

All your support is greatly appreciated- if you cannot donate, please share this post.

As ever, huge huge diolch yn fawr to everyone who has supported the project so far- with your help, we can get this dictionary published to help benefit the whole Welsh LGBTQ+ community and beyond.

147 notes · View notes

magnoliabutters · 10 months

Text

• MUNSON’S GUIDING LIGHT •

pairing: eddie munson x (he/him) reader

summary: a night of endless opportunities that mustn’t be wasted

warnings: 18+, mdni, adult language; novice reader, references to previous parts, detailed oral (m receiving), teacher/student dynamics, male on male smut, discussion of consent, internal dialogue, reader referred to as “j,” etc.

word count: ~4.2k

• the banished ones • part four •

reblogs always for the sweet lgbt+ munson

note: welcome back <3 guess what? pride never ends.

Munson makes his way up the creaking steps. You quicken your walk to follow closely behind. He opens the door and gestures for your entry. Not a care left standing. “You don’t lock your house?” you ask, baffled. He laughs as he closes the door behind you. “The only person who tried to rob from me was Lonny Branson, who lives up front. I made sure to handle that,” he says proudly. You walk through the doorway with a giddy smile.

“Handle it?” you ask with a scoff. “Yeah, he stole from me and I stole that TV from him,” Munson says with chuckle, pointing towards the TV pressed up against the living room wall. “He doesn’t try anything anymore.” You nod, finding his way of handling things intriguing. You’re positive that this way is definitely more effective than your own. He is fearless. You very much enjoy that about him.

He walks to the kitchen, diving into the fridge as you stare into the black screen of the TV. “Did you want one?” he says, calling your attention. He shakes a bottle in his hand as he awaits your answer. “Yes, please,” you say almost instantaneously. The thought of having a little liquid courage would be undeniably helpful.

Munson smirks as he returns from the kitchen with two cold bottles locked in his fingers. He hands you one, then twists off the top of his and takes a swig. His eyes still on you as you start to twist off yours. Embarrassingly, you have trouble with it. The ripples of the metal rip in to your palm. A wince falls from your lips. You’re used to bottle openers.

He bursts into stifled laughter, almost spitting out his sip. “What?” you say with a whine. “You’re just cute,” he says after recovering from his fit. He grabs the bottle from your hand, twists off the cap, and hands it back to you. “Thank you,” you say genuinely. You lift the bottle to your lips as he watches you with encouragement.

You raise your brows, nodding your head - unsure of what to do at that point. “Mm’good,” you mutter as you pull the bottle away. He laughs again, “You’re a freak. Common.” He gently reaches for your wrist with a smile as he guides you to his couch. You follow him happily, landing on the cushion beside him. He digs the heels of his big boots against the coffee table.

Awkwardly, you sit beside him. Your attention peering through your peripherals every so often. Unclear of what to do next. What is expected? The silence filling the air is something that bothers you. You have to fill it, and yet you’re holding yourself back from doing so. Munson takes another swig before resting his head back against the top of the couch. You wish you could relax, just be beside him and maybe even try to find comfort within the silence. But your anxiety would never let that happen.

Almost as though his telepathy appeared again, Munson speaks. “So where did you get the name ‘J?’” he asks, turning towards you. He hooks his knee onto the cushion. His arm sprawled against the couch’s outline. You let out a breath of relief, incredibly thankful for his lead. “I was named after my grandfather, and his nickname used to be ‘J’ so it just kinda stuck,” you answer as you press your shoulder against the cushion so you were fully looking at him and all his glory.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you start. “Do you like Munson or should I be calling you ‘Eddie?’” Munson smiles, biting his lip. “Only Todd calls me Munson for the most part,” he shares. “He’s got a whole thing with calling people by their last names.” You watch as his eyes light up before you. He must really look up to the President of Hellfire. “But, I like when you call me Munson,” he mutters as he curls in to himself. He hides behind his bottle. “It feels like a special thing between us,” he mumbles in a whisper.

Your chest feels warm at the thought of Munson wanting and expressing something special between you two. You catch yourself recognizing just how lucky you are to have found him. To have him walk down that hall and cross paths with you and that asshole. That he decided to help you without even knowing you, or knowing what was to come.

“Sounds good, Munson,” you say with a smirk. His smile beams as he leans his head against your shoulder. Your heart races anytime his skin touches yours. Your hand slowly floats to his cheek, lightly holding him against you - hoping he’ll never leave. His arm slowly crawls over your stomach and onto your chest as he digs into the embrace.

Slowly, you turn your chins towards your shoulder. You lay a kiss against his temple. He raises his sleepy head to give you a peck. God, every time your lips touch, your mind explodes. Why would you ever want to leave? With confidence, you slide your tongue in his mouth. He meets you halfway before your lips crash around each other.

Munson hums as your movements fly in tandem. His hand now traveling down to your pant leg. Your chin bobs against him as his tongue slides gracefully into your mouth. Soft gasps escape you as you sink back into the couch. The base of his palm lands against your hardening cock.

Before you knew it, your hand travels to his waist. Nails digging into the soft skin found beneath his shirt. Fingers crawl over to his own pants as you hum against him. The vibrations tickling his nose and he digs deeper into your kiss. His lips taste like jelly, sweet sweet marmalade. He licks them in a way that makes your skin reverberate. You wish you could lick his plump lips, always. It should be you, it should be your tongue.

One more kiss and Munson raises his bottle between you. He takes a swig while keeping his eyes on you. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whisper in genuine awe. A disconnect between the mind and your brain. “I don’t believe in God,” he murmurs. He leans closer and closer to you with that taunting smile of his. “But thank you.”

He leans back onto the cushion, giggling, as he takes another sip of his beer. “Movie?” he asks, tipping his bottle towards the VHS underneath his TV. Your eyes widen, excited by his collection. “Woah,” you utter as you lean down from the couch. You crawl towards the wooden cabinet. The fluffed carpet seething between your fingers. “Fast times, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Friday the 13th, The-The Shining,” you turn to him with amazement. “I had to sneak out and go to an entirely different city to watch these!”

Munson scoffs, “Why?” A bit of his lip lifting as his perfect teeth shine back at you. You turn back to him in confusion within the folds of amazement. “My mom would kill me if she knew I watched these movies,” you mutter as you look over more of his collection. You follow your index finger as it rides over the curves of the VHS cases. “You really haven’t done much, have yah?” he asks. His elbows now resting on his knees as he leans towards you.

“Why do you say that?” you ask with vulnerability. You bite the inside of your cheek. The slight pain and gummy sensation pull from those anxious feelings you’ve come to know. “I-I just want to know if there’s any bad,” he says softly. He lands onto his knees, crawling towards you. His hair almost at the length of his elbows. His devilish smirk as the words fall from his mouth. “Have you been a bad boy?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Your eyes now highly aware of how his canine digs into his deep rose lips. How his eyes glisten in this lighting. How each of his curls some how perfectly matches the other so naturally. And even though your gut is screaming at you to say it - you can’t force yourself to lie to Munson. “No,” you whisper. Your eyes dropping to your hands as they rest on your lap.

You lost it. You ruined everything. All you had to do was lie. Now he probably thinks you’re an innocent virgin who hasn’t done shit. Which is not at all true. You did smoke pot, that-that one time. A finger at your chin rips you from your thoughts. “My sweet boy,” he coos. His lips just inches from yours. You can feel his soft breath against your cheek. “I’ll be enough of a bad boy for the both of us.”

Eyes raise with hope before you crash your lips against his. You see stars, sparkles, rainbows. You hear and feel everything. Electricity runs through you both as you lean further into the kiss. Your eyes closed tight as your fingers hold at his cheek. His hand made its way to your waist, slowly crawling to your lower back.

Each breath away from him was a breath you would regret. You bite into his kiss. Passion overfilling you. A drive so powerful you refuse to deny it. Tongues and mouths devour each other as you begin to lean atop of him. With soft hands, Munson guides you towards the couch. His back pressed against it, as you are a puddle between his thighs. Your chest was thick against his, and you can feel every breath. Now grateful for breath.

“Mmm,” you let out as his hands begin to explore your body. His soft, yet rough, beautiful hands that would make you feel safe and warm for all eternity. You never want him to stop. As his tongue pressed against yours, you feel a sensation of emptiness in the back of your throat. Your teeth crash against his bottom lip, sucking and holding him hostage until another peck is thrown upon you. The metal taste embraces the tip of your tongue as he laughs against you.

“Fuck,” Munson whispers as he reaches for your pants. His fingers hastily unbuckling your belt while you lean all your body against his chest and chin. Your back straightens so he has no problem taking off your pants. With a touch so gentle, yet rough, he holds the outline of your cock within his palm. You let out a loud moan into his mouth at the sensation. You feel your tip pulsating as it craves him. Your hips grind against the shagged carpet as you dig deeper into the kiss.

His touch becomes tighter as his dick firms beneath you. It’s girth thick as it presses against your bare thigh. God, you can’t stop thinking about it. You would be lying if you said the thought of it wasn’t playing on repeat in the back of your mind since the fight. How big was it? How girthy? How thick? Was he cut? Is he groomed? Or is he a wild man? Your mind can’t stop, thinking through every possibility - drooling as you do.

Finally, you dig your own fingers within his black ripped jeans. His palming hand now reaches for you cheeks as his tongue continues to play with yours. You grab hold of his huge buckle, pulling the belt quick and rough from around his waist. His fingernails dig into your skin as you unzip his pants. He lets out a big sigh as his bulging cock throbs just beneath the thin layer of his boxers.

His dark blue briefs perfectly outlining it for your precious eyes. You pull away to gawk at his physique. At the beauty of his pale skin against the black ink. How the freckles gather at the very end of his sternum. How his waist comes to a perfect V. How his happy trail consists of light brown hair leading beneath his waistband. He is everything.

Your eyes raise to his as you begin to tug at his boxers. He answers with a smiling bite to your lower lip. You pull the cloth down, looking at your handy work, and you swear your heart stops beating. Your hands freeze. Munson is all man. A burly dark brown bush that you prayed for since you were 14. He is the ‘70’s rockstar of your dreams, and fuck, did he wear that bush well.

“Only if you want to, sweet boy,” Munson whispers against your lips. His gaze barely flicking up at you. Those warm, chocolate eyes. You take a few breaths to gather courage. You want to see it so badly but you don’t know even the slightest thing about what to do beyond that! What if what he did for you wouldn’t work for him? What if you can’t get him off? What if you leave him and yourself with a pair of complicated blue balls?

Your breathing quickens just before your fingers could pull any further. Munson watches you, noting how your chest rises and falls. His fingers wrap around your forearm. His eyes seek your own. He slows his own breath as he places a palm to your chest. “Only if you want to, J,” he murmurs. You stay, staring into his eyes, as though you doubted his sincerity.

You break the gaze, peering down at his lower stomach. “I-I just don’t know how,” you whisper. Your eyes begin to well, but you look into the mustard fuzzy carpet to pull from your emotions. The embarrassment still seeping from within. “Baby,” he whispers. “You don’t have to-” You take a heavy sigh, landing into a kneel between his legs. “I want to!” you say with exasperation. A deep breath falling from your lips. “I just don’t know how,” you repeat slowly.

His finger rests beneath your chin, guiding your gaze back towards him. “I can help,” Munson suggests. “I can walk you through it, if-if you want.” Your ears feel hot. Cheeks reddening with each touch. “It wouldn’t ruin it for you?” you ask under your breath. A scoff pulls your eyes on him. A raising brow as you worriedly watch his expression.

“No,” Munson coughs. A beautiful and comforting smile forming across his face. “No, I-I would very much like that.” Your brows raise and a gulp falls from your throat. You can feel his gaze upon you, watching any move your face makes. Determining whether or not you want to do this, whether or not you are truly ready.

But you know. You don’t need his soothing. His coddling. You wanted him. You’ve wanted him since you first laid your eyes on him.

With confidence, you lift the boxers over his tip. You pull it’s waistline down, down to his knees. The band tightening around his outer thighs. Your palm squeezing atop his ivory skin. “Handsome,” he mutters as he peers at you. His fingers brushing through the lazy strands of your hair until his palm cups your cheek. A smile perks at that side before you turn in to kiss his softness as you lock eyes.

After a good minute of comfortable silence, your gaze falls from Munson’s. On to his nose. To his strong chin. To the quiver of his adam’s apple. To the gentle curled locks that rest against his collar bone. To his chest, his pecks. To the happy trail you have come to adore. To his rocker’s bush. To the girthy cock that raises from it.

You instinctually wrap your fingers around his base. A surprising gasp falls from his lips, drawing your attention, but his smile quickly comforts you. “You can squeeze,” he whispers with nods of encouragement. “But not too hard. It’s no different than when you’re touching yourself.” You tighten your grip but ensure that its a balanced squeeze.

His chin raises, straightening his neck, as he lets out a shaky breath. The sight and sound draw all your blood to your lower extremities. As you continue your pulsating squeezes, your focus is placed upon the strong vein beneath his cock. Your thumb rubs against that firm spot. Slow circles and some tracing of his vein between squeezes.

Sharp breaths fall from his lips. His brows now furrow. His tongue licking his bottom lip before crashing a sharp tooth against it. “You can - you can go up and down,” he whispers. While massaging underneath, your squeezing fingers begin to trace up and down his shaft. You stop just under his head. Your thumb flirts with the idea of that hardened, warm spot. His breath quickens. His nails digging into the roots of your hair.

You continue to follow your instincts, using his moaning breaths as your guide. Your thumb brushes against his tip. A few rounds of massage and you coerce a bead of precum from his slit. You can feel yourself hardening beneath your boxers. God was he fucking hot.

Using his own lube, you quicken your movements. Munson adjusts beneath you. His back straightening as his groin grows closer and closer to you. Your other hand rests gently at his under carriage. A thumb maneuvering between his balls. “Oh fuck,” he whines. The crown of his head digs into the couch’s cushion.

Your hand quickens. The sounds of your slapping skins pressing against each other. Your mouth begins to water as you hang before his pink cock. Eyes closing, you quicken your ribs and squeezes. His muscles tighten beneath you. “Ooooooh,” he moans. You remain focused on his body, on turning his body into a puddle. “Yeah, you like that?” The worlds fall from your lips, completely disconnected from your mind.

“Oh god, I love that,” Munson murmurs. His hand retreating from your hair and is now pressed against his forehead. With each whimper that stills the air, your mouth lowers onto his tip. You are salivating, almost as though you were about to eat a sour candy. You want it. You’ve been wanting it. Him.

Lowering your mouth, you curl your lips around his head. Your eyes close as your hands sustain their movements. The tip of your tongue draws firm circles around this slit, and then his head. “Oh shit,” he cries. A tighter grip against the roots of your hair. You loved it. A harsh exhale falls upon his delicate skin as the pain lingers on your scalp.

You take more of him in, desperate for more and more. More of him. More of his moans. More of his touch. You peer up to catch his fluttering eyelashes. Your tongue lathers his staff, further lubricating his skin. “Faster, f-faster,” he murmurs. You do your best to oblige him. Holding your breath with each dip of your head.

Without touching yourself, you have an abundance of pleasure within your actions. You never thought taking delicate care of another, in making them happy, that you, in return, would be dying in your own pants. You love making him squirm. You love making him feel damn good.

Before, your thumb gently massaged at his sack. Now, his balls rest within your mouth. A delicate suck as your fingers rub his shaft thoroughly. “Ooo,” Munson hisses. “Not too hard.” He tries to inch away from you, breathy chuckling as he does. “I’m sorry,” you mumble as you raise your eyes towards him. You swipe the back of your hand to the side of your mouth.

“No, no, no,” he whispers. “Don’t apologize for this. This is - everything you’re doing is - is amazing.” A hitch of your smile and you lick your lips. You return your lips to his pretty little cock. “Oh shit, oh shit,” he whimpers with brows pushed together. You can feel his larger muscles tightening beneath you. “Faster, just-” he mumbles on. “Just a little…”

Following his guidance, you quicken your movements. Your tongue wrapping hastily at his head. Fingers wrapped around his staff, rough and tight. “Just like that,” Munson whimpers. “P-please. God, don’t stop.” His hips begin to rut, soft at first but they grow in force with each of your strokes.

The strength of his waist fills you with dreams, endless possibilities. Fuck, you wish you could feel it behind you. This strength is the sensation you’ve been wanting since you knew the truth about yourself. The heart that races in your chest digs his cock deeper within your throat. You breathe softly from your nostrils as you can feel his soft curls at the tip of your nose.

“J, J,” Munson mumbles as his breathing begins to fluster. “Fuck, pull back, pull back.” He lightly pushes at your shoulders. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns. Both your hands grip on his outer thigh, taking all of him in. At that exact moment, you taste salt on your tongue, you hear his moans grumble within his chest. His body shaking and pulsating beneath you.

Sudden and tight jolts rut from his hips once again before his body gradually becomes limp. You pull back, swallowing the salted gift you’ve received. A smile broadens across your face as you peer back at him. The sweat pools into drops heavy against his forehead. You can see where his curls have glued to his skin.

With a deep exhale, Munson whispers, “Fuck, baby.” Despite his weakness, he reached for your cheek again. You help his touch by leaning forward for him. “That was so not your first time,” he mutters with a exhausted chuckle. “No, I just had a great teacher,” you whisper. Your lips pecking against his palm.

He rests harshly against the border of the couch. His hand raises slightly and gestures for you to come closer. You happily follow his instruction, especially when both hands collapse at your cheeks and pull you into an incredible kiss. A kiss like no other. A kiss that screams love and care, not a simple “thanks for sucking me off.”

It’s becoming increasingly clear who Munson is to you. What he has become. Who you wish he would be. The floating butterflies in your stomach. The fluttering bubbles in your chest. The way you can physically feel your breath stall any time you lay your eyes upon him. The way you can physically feel the sparkles in your eyes. Love?

Love.

“Common,” Munson says as he struggles to raise from his sit. He reaches for his bottle, still resting upon the side table, and takes a quick sip. He lets out a refreshing sigh as his arm extends for you. A smile glowing behind his brunette locks. You grin as you reach for his hand and are pulled from the floor. He plants another kiss against your lips, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

As he pulls away, his eyes still rest upon you. They communicate undeniable words, confirming your own feelings. Two of his fingers are interlocked with yours as he guides you further into his home. He walks backwards, stalking as he does. His eyes rake over your body. He busily looks over your features, attempting to find any indication of doubt or worry. You have none and you see that in his eyes as well.

“Sweet boy,” Munson whispers as he steps past his bedroom’s doorway. You answer the challenge, dying for more of his touch. His arms wrap around your neck as he pulls you in closer. You lean down with a smirk before crashing your lips upon his. He kicks the door closed with those big boots, as you guide him to his mattress. You both crash against each other with the bounce of his bed.

“J,” he murmurs as he pushes a piece of hair from your face. He always has to ask. Has to verbally ask. You appreciate it. It further solidified your knowledge of how strong and good of a man he is, despite his many references of being a “bad guy.” You press your lips against his cheek, an act of adoration and admiration. “I want this, Munson,” you whisper. “I want you. Always.”

note: oh goodness, i cannot wait to get to our finale ♥️

comment or reblog to join the taglist!

taglist: @wolfiescosplay, @eddiesprettygirl, @unholycheesesnack, @wrandomwritting, @amberolivia666, @migwayne, @lilpotatobean2, @seatnights, @moonofblindness , @hells-glory-hole (incredible name btw), @teaandpsychiatry, & @siddunbi

• series • updates •

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson fandom #Eddie munson stranger things #Eddie stranger things #Eddie munson x male reader #gay Eddie munson #lgbt reader #lgbt writer #gay pride #gayboy #gay love #stranger things fanfic #Eddie munson smut #eddie smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

110 notes · View notes

luregrace · 7 months

Text

outnumbered

I am not the second choice. I dont even think i'm the third, or the fourth. Sometimes I think the amount of people she would choose before she chose me is uncountable.

48 notes · View notes

blackqueernotables · 8 months

Text

Junauda Juanita Petrus-Nasah: author, filmmaker, and performance artist

#junauda petrus #lgbt #black lgbt #black queer notables #qwoc #lgbt writer #lgbt filmmaker

38 notes · View notes

terrible-eel · 7 months

Text

Tonight's the night! at midnight on 10/10 this Anthology's campaign is going to launch!

For the next 48 hours there will be an early bird special!

There is also a special vendor price so if you want to see more queer artists in your bookstores, send them an email and let them know they should purchase this anthology!

21 notes · View notes

moonandris · 2 years

Text

Faye’s Writeblr Introduction ♡

Hey everyone! I’ve had this blog for a little while now and I realized I haven’t done a proper writeblr introduction. With this post I hope I’ll be able to interact more with the writeblr community and get to know some of you better, and in turn, you can get to know me as we suffer through this wonderful writing journey together. <3

Name & General Information

My name is Faye and I’m a twenty-something bisexual woman-child who’s usually got her head in the clouds or her nose buried in a good fantasy book. I’m a daydreamer, worldbuilder, fantasy lore enthusiast, and of course, a creative writer. I’ve been writing off and on since I graduated high school, and while I’ve been ‘on’ again since my mid-twenties, I still consider myself a novice, albeit a very passionate one.

Things I Like

Writing, editing, drawing, singing, animals, video games, storytelling, history & mythology, languages, learning about different cultures, personal growth & self-improvement, constructive criticism, making new writing buddies, writers supporting other writers, people who let me talk about my OCs until I run out of breath from talking so much. :)

Things I Dislike

Writing, editing, drawing, procrastination, stagnancy in all things (but especially in writing), nonconstructive criticism, writer’s block and blinding white documents judging me for not filling them with words, people devoid of empathy and basic human decency, when I get so frustrated with myself and my writing that I rage quit and yeet my work into the trash and delete it forever... PLEASE LOVE YOURSELVES AND DO NOT E V E R DO THIS! :(

Content I Enjoy Writing and Reading

Mostly fantasy and its many subgenres (high, modern, scifi, dark). I also enjoy horror, paranormal, and dark-themed stories that explore real life human struggles in exciting, imaginative worlds. I consider myself a fantasy/romance writer overall but I’m honestly not too picky and will read anything that’s well-written and has solid worldbuilding + likeable characters. I love stories that focus on character growth and personal journeys, especially ones that have strong themes of romance, friendship, or that demonstrate the strength of love and bonds between people, regardless if it’s romantic, platonic, or familial. I’m a bisexual creator and every story I write has LGBT+ characters and relationships. As far as romance goes, I write gay, lesbian, bisexual, and straight romances with various genders and dynamics. I enjoy delving into many different themes in my stories, such as discovering identity, exploring sexuality, examining what it means to be human, and finding one’s place in the wide world.

My Absolute Favorite Tropes, Themes, and Content

hurt/comfort stories that rip your heart out of your chest and tape it back together

soulmates, whether they be romantic or platonic (but especially romantic)

enemies to lovers/friends and lovers/friends to enemies

supernatural creatures (vampires, werewolves, angels, demons, sorcerers, witches, warlocks, mer, fae, etc.)

experiencing, overcoming, and healing from fucked up trauma

defying fate and choosing your own path despite destiny’s enigmatic design

magic and magical systems, powers, governments, and hierarchies

intense horror stories, scary creatures, thrilling content that gets the blood pumping

exploring identity, sexuality, and finding one’s place in the world

Thank you so much for reading, and I really appreciate it so much if you reblog! Happy writing! 💕

#writeblr #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #romance writeblr #fantasy writeblr #dark fantasy writeblr #horror writeblr #lgbt writer #fantasy writer #romance writer #bisexual writers #creative writing #writeblr post #faye speaks #i need more writing friends #i live for hurt/comfort #let's interact #i'm going to come back and add more later

346 notes · View notes

kiraleighart · 1 year

Text

a snippet from my sci-fi novel~

THE PLAY’S credits performed in reverse. Laughter wove in spliced tongues. Sobs were shots of vodka mimed backward in still-frame memories. Today was the day he was born.

At first, there was a void of nothing. Then, the man was alive. He was alive, standing in a space that smelled like antiseptic. The room was large enough for a swept arm to feel no chairs, no walls, no people, and he was blind.

The tremor of a frenetic pulse in his ears was the beat of a song he knew too well; fight or flight, do or die, the time is now. Then, the sound became a sizzle.

Naturally stumbling, the man placed his hand on a flat surface and followed it up with searching fingers. He was a slip of a shape, crawling like a bottom-feeder until he reached a notch. He pushed his hand up between the space he felt and grasped what he imagined was silver.

That white-knuckled hand meant he was alive.

He used the handhold to follow the wall and found a seam. He felt the seam with his fingers and plastered his face to a slick surface, his mouth fogging the space in front of him. It was wet on the skin of his cheek.

Finally, after what felt like hours, words found shape in his mouth. If he could speak, it surely meant that he was alive.

“W-where the fuck am I?!” he spat against the surface near his mouth.

“We had a problem booting you,” spoke a muddy voice.

#books #booklr #author #lgbt writer #writer #trans #cyberpunk #constelisvoss #writing #ownvoices

48 notes · View notes

nollthere · 16 days

Text

Won't be long now... My debut chapbook of gay poetry about falling for the sound of cicadas, swamp Grindr, and hoping you're not a monster while stuck in a red state in the aftermath of a real monster's disasters. Out April 12 from Alien Buddha Press.

#my art #poetry #chapbook #gay poetry #queer poet #queer artist #queer poets on tumblr #queer poetry #queer writer #gay writer #lgbt writer #lgbt poet #lgbt poetry #poet #writers of tumblr #alien buddha press

3 notes · View notes

ghoulishbuck · 6 months

Text

Writer: hyper focuses on a mural that will only be mentioned once or twice and goes into great detail about said mural.

Also, writer: Can’t describe any part of the house beyond the small section the mural is located in.

#writer #queer writers #writerblr #writers on tumblr #writerslife #writer problems #writerscommunity #lgbt writer #lgbtq writers #queer writer #lgbt writers #writer things #lgbtq writer #writing #writing wip

31 notes · View notes

maninmauve · 2 months

Text

Inspiration: Character Flaws

One of my favourite things about character creation would be flaws and quirks. There are many that can picked, twisted, and combined. Some are more popular than others, especially among newer writers or even young roleplay and writing enthusiasts. Heterochromia, face scars, unusual hair and eye colours are some of the physical quirks that I noticed in my roleplaying days. While erring to not give…

View On WordPress

2 notes · View notes

cheshire-castle-library · 10 months

Text

July 1, 2023

Made 2k+ words on the backstory. I'm using a bastardized snowflake, and like... nobody every tells you how many times you are going to write your story before you actually get to start putting words to manuscript. I'm enjoying it though! This idea came from a multi-year daydream, so I've already seen the major events once. But the way things work in "infinite redo's imagination land" and the way they need to work for a cohesive narrative is really different. So I'm carving out the "boring" parts I didn't daydream from the darkness and sometimes that takes saying "yeah actually I didn't enjoy that at all, redo". At the end of the day, it's still a daydream - and it's my daydream, so I'm not going to get bored no matter how many times as I have to rewind and make different choices.

#my big mouth #writeblr #writing #space opera project #noveling #art #gapART #lgbt #lgbt writer #lgbt artist #bonus: this is enemies to lovers #also: its gay

4 notes · View notes

luregrace · 7 months

Text

justified self-punishment

Hating yourself becomes somewhat of a coping mechanism, something that could help you wrap your head around the things that happen. You would lose that friend: “Maybe I deserved it.” or your parents would cry and shout: “I would cry and shout too if I was my child.” You could lose yourself in this grief, and you almost did.

20 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

rosember96

Trabajos de Fotografía

trashy-persons-stuff

Untitled

tbnresources

birds nest resources

boredrobin13

Robin

medical-equipments-news-blog

Sonus International