#How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love With Poetry

[author-mandi-bean]

How to Fall in Love With Poetry

I decided to channel some of my newfound confidence in getting one of my favorite friends to like poetry. Read the post to see how it went!

Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com Writing Update A literary agent requested the full manuscript of Lightning Strikes! This agent told me it would take six to eight weeks for me to hear back, which puts the response window at the end of May/beginning of June. Please keep your fingers crossed! I also received a really nice rejection. The email read, “You have an interesting story to tell and…

[feluka]

"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.

But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.

But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.

When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.

And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.

Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.

Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.

In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.

So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"

So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.

Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.

She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".

So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.

And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.

Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.

The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.

To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."

-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[sidekick-hero]

I can't stop thinking of Eddie as Cyrano de Bergerac.

He's in the drama club, he's known for his way with words, his ability to bring whole worlds to life with them. Few people know that he also writes poetry, poems about love and loss, society and justice, whatever comes to his mind. Many of them are about a mysterious person with gold-flecked eyes and autumn hair, constellations on his skin, and the sun in his heart.

Eddie guards his notebook full of poems like a dragon guards his hoard of gold. And yet.

And yet Susie Bowers finds it where it fell out of his pocket when that asshole Tommy Hagan pushed him against the lockers. She reads it and realizes how devastatingly beautiful Eddie's words are.

It makes her think… think about her crush on Steve Harrington, the fallen king who is still the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. Especially since he refuses to just take girls home to fuck them. No, he wants to date. He wants to fall in love. It's catnip for everyone, but at the same time so frustrating because no girl has managed to catch his eye yet.

Maybe this little notebook is her ticket to a relationship with Steve Harrington.

She approaches Eddie and shows him the notebook, pulling it out of his reach as he attempts to grab it. She offers him a deal: she won't spread copies of all his cute little writings all over the school, exposing his deepest secrets for everyone to see and ridicule. In exchange, Eddie will help her sweet-talk Steve Harrington.

Eddie agrees and writes love letters to the boy he's been in love with ever since he found him drunk and depressed on the side of the road after his girlfriend dumped him. He had taken him home, listened to him ramble on about what he had done wrong, why no one would want to love him, and then put Steve to bed and watched him sleep until morning to make sure he was okay.

He left before Steve woke up, and the next time they saw each other at school, Steve didn't even look at him. It had broken his heart and inspired most of his poems, because nothing inspires like heartbreak.

And now Eddie can tell Steve all the things he thinks and feels about him - just to make it seem like it's written by Susie.

It seems to work, because Steve replies to her letters. His replies are simpler, less lyrical, but just as earnest. His words are sweet, and he's funny and thoughtful.

He's everything Eddie knew he was going to be. And Susie couldn't care less, she just wants to go out with him, have him take her home, have everyone know that she's Steve Harrington's girlfriend.

They go out. After a dozen letters, he gives in and asks her out.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

Someone knocks on his bedroom window. Confused and a bit nervous, because he doesn't have only friends in this town, far from it, he goes to open it.

And finds Steve Harrington standing right outside his window.

"What -"

"Did you mean them?" Steve asks and he can't tell from his tone what he's thinking.

"What?"

"Your letters, did you mean what you wrote or did you just write down what you thought I wanted to hear so I'd go out with Susie?"

His tone doesn't really change, but Eddie can see his eyes shining in the dim light coming from his bedroom. He looks upset, and Eddie wants to fix it, but he doesn't know what answer would do that.

So he chooses the truth. "Yes. I meant every single word I wrote in those letters."

"Then why didn't you send them under your own name?" When did Steve get so close? And why is the window sill digging into his stomach?

At Steve's question, Eddie can't help but laugh bitterly. "Did you look at me, Steve? I'm the town freak! A fuckup. Trailer trash. A small-time drug dealer who failed his senior year. Why would anybody - why would you want to get love letters from me?"

Steve nods, not saying a word as he turns and walks away. And okay, he deserves it, he guesses. Hanging his head in defeat, he shuffles away from the window and face plants on his bed, letting fresh tears fall from his eyes.

Until there's another knock, this time at his front door.

He's out of bed in record time, almost breaking his neck in his haste to get to the door. It can't be - it's impossible that this is -

Steve is standing on his front porch, looking devastatingly handsome in his light-washed Levi's and red sweater. His date outfit.

He walks up to him before Eddie can say anything and cups his cheek.

"I've been looking at you, Eddie. All I've done since the night you brought me home and listened to me and took care of me, I've been looking at you. Looking and waiting. Hoping. Wanting you to give me a sign, any sign, that it wasn't just chivalry that made you do this, but the fact that you cared. About me. But you never did."

"Steve," Eddie whispers, but Steve isn't finished.

"And then I get these letters, and all the words, they sound like you. I couldn't be sure, not until I read the line, 'You deserve someone who wants to love you, all of you, the good and the bad and everything in between. I want to be that person. I want to love you.' You're the only one I've ever said that to. I knew it had to be you."

"But why? Why go out with Susie?"

"Because I had to be absolutely sure that it wasn't Susie. And after ten minutes with her, I was. I drove around until I couldn't… I had to talk to you. To see if you mean it. If you want to love me."

Eddie kisses him.

There's nothing else on his mind but the need to finally kiss the boy he's been in love with for almost a year.

Steve kisses him back, soft, tender, then deeper, dirtier.

When they pull apart, both gasping, Eddie leans in closer because his next words are meant for him and Steve and no one else.

"I want to love you long after my body crumbles to dust and my soul finds yours in the afterlife. I want to love you as the ocean does the moon, forever bound, forever following its call, until the end of time."

[azure-cherie]

PAC : Who of the nine Greek muses do you embody ? A message from the muse

➪Pile : 1-2-3 ☟︎︎︎ 4-5-6 ☟︎︎︎ 7-8-9

Hii loves how have you been , I'm back again with a reading, I hope you enjoy this please choose with your intuition and take what resonates , Reblogs, comments feedbacks everything is highly appreciated ❤️

If you liked this and would like to book or would want a bigger reading on the same topic :

Masterlist , paid readings , paid readings 2

Pile 1 :

Muse of music and lyric poetry

Channelled messages: " let go of societal restraints " , " paint the canvas of your life , write a poem about a wall " , " often see yourself as an ancient women of honour " , " feed the doves "

She comes forth to tell you about your potential how you're a very meditative being , you are so good at chanelling and you should do it more often , ask her to be your guide and write down all that comes through to you flow in your thinking and the ideas that come forth

Lean more into the devotional aspect of your life , see everything with the vibration of love. The trees the humans the animals , devote more into self love and worship the gods you already do .

Learn the right way to connect to the moon , you're in your journey and this is one of the crucial times , you're almost at the end of a karmic cycle stay stiff and strong

Don't get into arguments , if you do have mishaps with someone , lean into releasing the anger through creating music or producing tunes .

Take practical approaches to life , if someone says no to you do the thing on your own , your guides are always taking care of you .

Pile 2 :

Muse of dance and choral poetry .

Channelled messages : " learn about the folk music and dances where you stay " , " when in the blues play the beats " , " give more to the society in forms of art " , " start the YouTube channel"

Your devotion towards your deity or your guides is really admirable and that is something that's one of your best qualities people online or in person admire your liking towards a deity you inspire them .

The calmness of mind that can be attained through yoga is something she wants you to do , imagine a blue beam of light when you meditate , she tells you to connect to your primordial life form your soul .

Know about the necessary sacrifices one has to do in their life , your sacrifices now will bring you rewards later , don't fall for instant gratification

Abundance is soon to come in your life but work on cultivating a sense of detachment towards money , obsession ruins everything.

There might me a rock bottom moment in your life soon , she asks you to remain in your path as a human and as a soul take the lessons and move on soon you will alchemize your pain into passion and glory . You transform everything you're a becon of light .

Pile 3 :

Muse of hymns and sacred poetry

Channelled messages : " Levitate " , " dream big " , " nice downtown tshirt " , " the life that one has is a sum and minus of that they do "

If you're interested in writing do it , there might be an opportunity approaching you soon in this sector , though there's a warning about a setback if you don't take the opportunity at the right time don't worry you'll do great believe in the power of wishes.

You might rekindle a childhood bond on the basis of liking of movies or songs .

Business sector might have new opportunities your fortune is about to change you're gonna have the power to do what you want in your life because you're the creator of it , your destiny is now on hold make the best use of free will.

Connect more to the oceans and moon , fireflies etc , be in nature more and stay grounded .

Honour your soul by serving the temple you're in your own body , take care of your body give it ample rest and food .

Pile 4 :

Muse of tragedy

Channelled messages : " Dwelling on past has no rewards " , " crazy is as good as the sane" , " time flowes and glows and you grow "

Don't choose a hard life away from your desires because you're scared of disappointing people your path is enlightened more as you connect more to yourself .

Give into dark feminine energy and live in your truth , if you remain often confused or scared work on your root chakra .

Connect more to your guides through paintings and leave offerings of metal , feathers , corn etc

It's time to finally shine you're going from the hermit to an influencer you're gonna be famous it might start small but it will build up .

Keep away from external influences that stop your growth drop bad friends and family .

Pile 5 :

Muse of love poetry

Channelled messages: eat healthy and enriching foods , read about the love you already behold , the depths of see are beautiful and so is your heart of depth.

Abundance in the sector of love is coming soon you're gonna make the haters jealous , might even win a pagent or competition.

You might have felt Beauty is your curse but life's gonna show you how it's not you're gonna be so hight so uplifted I see you shining like a star

One has to prepare for glory start by saying affirmations and working on your third eye and root chakra .

Read more about lovers from mythology like Persephone Hades , Aphrodite ares , Radha Krishna etc

The boons served by the goddess are yours to keep and no one can question that , you're being divinely blessed and you'll be happy and dancing soon .

Pile 6 :

Muse of comedy and Idyllic poetry

Chanelled messages: Search for the small joys, poppies , these boots are meant for walking , spring equinox fairy

There's a confirmation in case you wanna go for the acting sector , this sector will require a lot of hardwork .

There's also a warning regarding someone in your job your boss or your guru they might take credit for some assignment you did beware and if possible say no because that thing might get your superior a promotion

You are to search bliss in satisfaction about what you already have the moon is to be admired by you the power to be soked it , are you ready for the full moon .

You're intelligent and people really admire you for that , gemini energy.

Move in your life in your true path of light don't be afraid or dim your light , your aura might have hints of white colour .

Pile 7:

Muse of epic poetry

Chanelled messages: Blow the bubbles up , get into kitchen witchery, Artemis , cry me a river

Don't give people the benefit of the doubt if you don't like someone let them go .

Fame is eminent in your energy, life coaches might help you , your aunt is giving you good guidence follow her .

Do your school projects and specially eat tangerine and other fruits that make you feel happy

Serve the world and create peace each small step is a long one in the collective , small things create big impact do your part and be sure of the effects .

Moon water energy and full moon is great for you to invite luxuries in your life , ground your root chakra and connect to your third eye your ancestors will be sending you messages.

Pile 8 :

Muse of astronomy

Chanelled messages: Fly me to the moon , peals and sandbox , honesty is the best policy , go go cheerleader

The first message for you is to balance all your chakras it's crazy my oracle deck pulled all chakra cards omg I feel like there soon will be a kundalini awakening for you

You're almost in your last stage of awakening get into the cosmic dance of life your life is about to change , abundance is coming

Hard message to get through but someone in your relationship might be cheating or there might be someone who has an eye on your partner and might try to frame them . Only for some people

Listen to your higher self write a letter to them

Your path from now on is of the hermit it might be lonely but it's worth it discoveries are on your way in fields of history, psychology, quantum mechanics etc.

Pile 9 :

Muse of history

Chanelled messages: 13 missed calls , glow up is loading , search in the Egyptian archives , glow and peach coloured cheeks

The number six is significant, also specifically for someone there's this person who is delaying your glow up by doing some nasty as spell , might be a close friend

You are ignoring some signs from the universe , they're coming again and again and you're ignoring it look into it closely , you're elevating in your consciousness.

Your energy levels are high and you're matching ahead in your journey setbacks are never the end the sheer power of desire iss enough to keep going .

You're slowly climbing the stairs of life to become confident and assertive you might even call upon a partner soon who is very sure about themselves.

You should plant more trees and learn about them about their origination etc , i specifically get about Tulsi and the lore behind it . Some others would be eucalyptus, basil and marigold.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this

Have a great day/ night ♥️🌹

[oikasugayama]

what about a bsd chart for falling in love?

i can't help falling in love with you

Dazai is prone to falling in love at first sight. He sees a pretty girl, or a handsome guy, and does everything in his power to get their attention. It's different when you come along, though. You fly under his radar for a while; it's not that you're not his type, it's that he doesn't realize it at first. As he gets to know you he realizes more and more how much he likes talking to you; how attractive he thinks you are; how much he relishes in your attention. You know his reputation and try to steer clear of his charms, but you're not entirely successful. You vow not to tell him, though, because you don't want to get your heart broken. That makes the surprise of his confession all the more potent. It's proper, it's sincere, and it's real.

Akutagawa is more surprised than you are when he confesses. Love isn't something he thought he'd have the pleasure of experiencing. His life has been difficult, its been deadly, and its been dark, but meeting Atsushi made him more thoughtful and less violent, and then when he met you he felt like he was experiencing something brand new. It was exciting. It was confusing. It was beautiful. You liked him as well, of course, but you vowed not to tell him because you didn't think he had romantic interests and you didn't want to make him pull away from the little friendship you had developed. His confession is a pleasant surprise.

Poe falls in love easily. All it takes is someone being nice to him and showing interest in his writing, and he's done for. For you to regularly read his stories and genuinely praise and critique them, and for you to enjoy spending time with him even if it's spent doing nothing--it means the world to him. He confesses to you via poetry. He writes you a lovely dramatic poem about a lonely man who meets a person who brightens his world. It's obvious it's about you--his nervousness and shaking hands gives it away. You're so excited. You liked him too, a lot, but weren't sure if you should tell him yet. You're glad he took the decision out of your hands.

Nikolai and Fyodor are similar when it comes to love. They are best friends, after all (according to Nikolai anyway). They have a philosophy that some think is... wrong or outdated, but it works for them when they want to get you. It goes like this: they see you, they want you, they get you. Literally. Either of them would lure you in and capture you. He'll explain his grand love for you, and even if you escape, he'll find you again and again. He'll wear you down until you love him or it kills you. Whichever comes first.

Sigma, having only recently become a person, doesn't know what extreme emotions feel like. When he starts to fall in love with you, he thinks he's sick or dying because of the way his heart rate increases, and the way he gets shaky and nervous when you come around. He thinks you may be using an ability on him. He doesn't confront you right away, because he really doesn't want to think you'd hurt him--he really, really likes you otherwise. You're so kind and thoughtful and helpful. You don't use him and leave him like others in his life. Once he finally realizes that he's in love with you, it weighs heavily on his mind and stays there. Should he tell you? Do you feel the same? He needs to think on it a while longer...

Oda falls in love with someone very sweet and gentle. The world is a disturbing place with awful things happening every day, and you aren't nearly as aware of that as he is, and he wants to keep it that way. He wants to protect you. To take care of you. To provide for you. He knows he wont be able to do these things without connecting you to the dark part of the world that he works in, so he refrains from confessing. It's the best way to keep you safe. When you confess to him, though, he doesn't have the self-restraint to deny you. He warns you of the dangers, but tells you he wants out, and he'll get out for you. He makes a plan and you're part of it.

Atsushi having had such a dark and violent childhood is a late bloomer when it comes to love. All the other kids in the orphanage were basically his siblings, and he went straight to the ADA after leaving there, so until you come along he's never really had a crush on any real life person. He's thought people were pretty, sure, but that feeling was nothing compared to how his heart races and his knees wobble and his mouth wont cooperate with his brain any time you're around. It becomes extremely obvious to everyone that he has feelings for you, including you after a certain point, and you just think he's so damn sweet. You ask him out finally when you realize he likely wont ever be brave enough to ask you first. He nearly faints he's so excited, and nervous, when you bring it up.

Junichiro falls for someone soft and sweet and nervous after his previous relationship ends. He liked dating people bolder than him, but after a certain point it became too exhausting keeping up with that type of person please for the love of god don't tell everyone you're his sister like Naomi did. When he starts to fall for you, he's very upfront. He tells you he thinks he's falling, and you tell him back. He says he'll keep you updated after he has more time to think about it, and you say the same. You end up spending more and more time together, slowly creating an orbit around the two of you, making a space in your lives for each other. It happens so gradually and so on-pace with one another that it feels completely natural being with him.

Bram may not be the first to fall in love, but he does tell you he intends to court you before you ever reveal your feelings to him. He thinks you're pretty, and he likes when you're around, and you seem to like coming around since you're with him a lot, so he very casually tells you he would like to court you and you very happily accept his offer. He very, very quickly realizes you're something precious and special when he starts thinking about you romantically, and not long after beginning to date he tells you his feelings are very deep. It's a shock but a definite win for you.

Tachihara definitely thinks you're hot and he can tell that you like him--those Hunting Dog instincts and modifications are pretty handy--but he doesn't consider his own feelings for a long time. He leads you on, in fact, giving you attention to make you fawn over him, and then he acts cool like nothing happened, brushing you off and not making plans with you. When you try to move on, stop giving him attention, try to find someone else who's interested in you, he notices, and he hates it. It occurs to him then that he's jealous and he realizes aw fuck, I've gotta tell them how I feel.

Mushitaro is so prim and proper and charismatic--it's hard not to fall for him. You're friends for a long time without thinking much of him, but eventually one day you just realize and it starts bugging you. You may try to distance yourself to see if the feelings will go away, but they wont. While you're distant he misses you desperately and starts to puzzle together his own feelings. Eventually he comes to your house and confesses on your doorstep, saying he misses you and he cares about you so much and he at least needs to know why you're ignoring him. It feels dramatic and straight out of a rom-com.

Ranpo, as I've said before, knows as soon as you do, maybe even sooner, that you have feelings for him. Yours definitely develop before his, but he picks up on it quickly and decides that he wants to date you to see where it goes, and he makes the decision to stay with you long-term after only a couple of dates. There's no confession on your part given that he just knows, but from him the confession is sweet while still being matter-of-fact. "I've fallen for you, as I knew I would. Let's keep dating until we're sick of each other, 'kay?"

Mori lives a double life and you have no idea. If you knew he was the head of the Port Mafia there's no fucking way in hell you ever would have talked to him or gotten to know him or fallen for him or confessed to him, but you didn't know that. To you, Mori was the handsome man in a doctor's coat who came into your store every week. He chatted with you more and more each time he came in, and finally you were brave enough to give him your number, to text him, to ask him out to coffee. He say yes every time, going along with it, and only after you'd been casually dating for some time did he tell you who he really is and well, fuck, you were just about to tell him you were in love with him, so you've both got bombs to drop tonight.

Chuuya plays it so cool that you don't assume he has any sort of romantic feeling for you, but your mind is completely hung up on him to the point of you thinking that you need to be rejected already so you can move on. You tell him as much when you confess, trying to play it off as a joke when you say "dude, I think you're really hot, can you reject me so I'll stop wondering if I have a chance?" He laughs, smirks, and says "I don't think I will, actually. I'll take you to dinner tonight instead." You're flustered, unsure if he means it or not, but oh boy does he. The date goes really well, actually, and he asks to see you again, and scolds you for thinking he was out of your league. "I'm just a guy, I'm not that special."

Kunikida may seem high-strung, and yeah, he is, but there's something about him that just does it for you. Maybe it's that he's so responsible, maybe it's that he's incredibly kind and thoughtful, or maybe it's everything. You don't know, it's hard to explain, and explain you must because when you try to confess to him he asks you why and what did he do to deserve your attention? He ponders your confession for a few hours in private before he reaches out to you. You expect to be rejected, but he accepts your offer, saying you were a shock and he's trying to have a few more unexpected experiences.

Fukuzawa likes you as a person but refuses to acknowledge you romantically given your age gap. You have to confess before he'll think about you in that way. It doesn't go smoothly--you're very quickly but politely turned down. It doesn't make your crush go away, though, and you notice that Fukuzawa seems a bit skiddish around you. When you finally get fed up and ask him why he's been acting weird ever since you asked him out, he admits that he's been thinking about you a lot and thinks that maybe he made a hasty, incorrect choice the last time you spoke about this...

Ango may not be the first to fall in love in your relationship, but once he's in love he's obsessed with you. It all starts like any office romance with a new transfer from another department. He's told you're talented and promising, but he doesn't believe it until you start actually lightening his work load and making his job easier. When you start casually calling him cute and flirting with him, he doesn't know what to think. It's unprofessional, but it's also exciting and he doesn't exactly dislike the attention. When you're off the clock and ask him out on a proper date, he says yes with only minimal hesitation. It's the best decision he's ever made.

[yanderestarangel]

Hello! Could you write something about the Lin Kuei Trio, please? Where do the three like the reader and know that one and the other also like it?

​​​​​​𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐊1 | 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 | 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

TW: rivalry, afab reader, smut in the final cut, foursome, blowjob, v!sex, anal!sex.

The first one to like you was Tomas, at first it was platonic, with him just wanting to be your friend because he thought you were an extremely nice person to him and everyone around him, but soon this innocent feeling turned into a need and need to have you. in a much more carnal and intimate way, like a couple.

Then Tomas asks for help from Kuai Liang, who is curious to meet you, soon going with his younger brother to find you, also falling in love with you, so a competition soon begins between the two, it wasn't a bad rivalry, Kuai Liang tells you I wanted you as much as Tomas also wanted you, but they would both be happy if one of them managed to stay with you at the end of the day, until Bi Han came in.

Bi Han found out about the brothers' competition, so he decided to get to know you too, at first he just wanted to be with you to annoy Tomas, but he really starts to like you as time goes by, your smile, your voice, your face then the competition really starts to get serious. Bi Han would love/hate the competition for your love, he would spoil you with expensive gifts bought by him - necklaces, rings all in pure gold and diamonds - or even some technological trinket that he ordered Sektor to make.

Kuai Liang, on the other hand, would spoil you with gestures of care and service, helping you clean your house, walking with you or offering to carry you in his arms or on his back, so you wouldn't get tired walking. He helped you rest by massaging your back, feet and legs - It was Kuai Liang's excuse to smell you and kiss your thighs from time to time, if you allowed him of course, artisanal oils made by himself, his favorite was of roses and almonds, it made your skin tempting and beautiful for him.

Tomas is more shy, but he writes you little letters, usually poems about how beautiful you were and how you brightened up his day, like warm rays of sunlight on a cloudy day, some were just letters about his subtle feelings.

"We painted and read together, or I listened, as in a dream, to his delirious improvisations of his soul aching for life. Your beauty blessed by the immortal gods, perhaps I loved your eyes more than my own, perhaps I vibrated with every timbre of your voice and movement.

Your grace is like a dance of swans on a crystal clear lake in the pure gardens of paradise itself.

The angels came to envy our nights together, wondering about the essence of our dawn, the touch of your lips on my skin, on my face, chaste as the purity of the finest silk, such a feeling was deprived of me in my distant childhood.

I wasn't, as a child, like others, and I never saw how others saw, but your company makes me see the gift of your beauty, only you, (Y/N) my divine blessing of select destiny."

Tomas wrote on the parchment, while looking at your reaction, he did the best he could with each letter, poetry and poem he wrote to you, accompanied by small flowers, picked by himself, along with small expensive perfumes that he managed to buy with the reserve of money he had, he would smile sweetly and ask you if you thought it was good enough, he really needed your approval and love.

The competition got worse when the three brothers realized that you had a favorite, Bi Han would get more pissed off with Tomas and Kuai, even ending up in serious fights - Kuai fights with Bi Han or Bi Han with Tomas, to the point where they left seriously bleeding -

So you would have to choose soon.

If you chose Bi Han, Tomas and Kuai Liang would be sad but would respect your decision, sad looks would be given to you as you spent time with Bi Han but would respect your decision.

If you chose Tomas, Kuai Liang would be sad but happy for his younger brother, even if he is still in love with you. On the other hand, Bi Han would freak out, his anger towards Tomas would increase with daily fights over you.

If you chose Kuai Liang, Tomas would also be happy for his brother, even if he cried every night because his heart ached with love and Bi Han would just ignore you two - you would also be banned from being in their house, to avoid the Tomas and Bi Han's suffering -

♡ Or you can resolve this all in foursome sex ♡

As Bi Han lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on top of him, his hard length pressed against your wet entrance, a low growl escaped his lips. His hands firmly grasped your waist, holding you in place as he began to rock his hips, the friction between your slick folds and his hardened cock sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

Tomas wasted no time, his fingers trailing down your spine before coming to rest on your ass. With a purposeful grip, he guided your hips, pressing you down onto Bi Han's length. His touch was both commanding and gentle, his intentions clear as he guided you to find a rhythm that pleased all three of you. Meanwhile, Kuai Liang watched with darkened eyes, his own arousal evident as he remained in the hot spring. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, a mix of desire and frustration clouding his expression. You could almost feel his gaze burning into your exposed body, his fascination apparent as he bit down on his lip, struggling to hold himself back.

As grand master lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on top of him, his hard length pressed against your wet entrance, a low growl escaped his lips. His hands firmly grasped your waist, holding you in place as he began to rock his hips, the friction between your slick folds and his hardened cock sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he hissed in pleasure. The taste of him filled your mouth, the smooth glide of your tongue eliciting moans from his lips. His hips moved in tandem with your oral motions, seeking a deeper connection with your mouth. As Bi Han thrust into your wetness with force, his length stretching you to your limits, an intense mixture of pleasure and pain coursed through your body. The feeling of his dick plunging deep inside you, filling you completely, elicited a moan of pure satisfaction from your lips.

Tomas wasted no time, his fingers trailing down your spine before coming to rest on your ass, not one to be left out, took advantage of your exposed rear entrance. With slow and deliberate movements, he eased his girth into your tight opening, the sensation causing you to gasp in pleasure.

The dual penetration overwhelmed your senses, the mix of pleasure and tightness sending waves of ecstasy through your body. Bi Han's grip on your waist tightened, and with each forceful thrust. The intensity built, the rhythm of his thrusts matching the pace of Tomas behind you.

Lust surrounded you, pulling you deeper into a vortex of sensations that threatened to consume your every thought. Bi Han's thrusts grew more forceful, his voice dripped with taunting satisfaction as he spoke, amplifying your state of lust. "-That's right, my dear. You're just a vessel for our pleasure, a cum deposit for us to fuck." -He growled, his words spurring you on even further.

Tomas, his hunger for pleasure unabated, continued his steady rhythm within the tight confines of your ass. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered breathlessly "-You want our cum, don't you? You want to be filled and marked as ours."

Kuai Liang pushed you further onto his cock, as you felt his balls hit your chin, he moaned loudly as he smiled roguishly seeing you a mess, lost in the unbearable vortex of heat and pleasure. "-(Y/N) can't even speak, like a stupid whore with my dick in his/her/they mouth, you really are little cocksucker, with three dicks in your little holes uh?"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[elizaleclerc]

you’re good to me 🎨

lando norris x reader

summary: perfectionist painter!reader & poet lando enjoy a relaxing day in their apartment

song: wasteland, baby! by hozier

author’s note: lando reads a poem he wrote (part of the hozier song lol) and you paint something beautiful. neither of you can truly see the beauty of your own work.

word count: 1.4k

You sat in a comfortable cross-legged position on the carpet of your living room. Your back was slightly curved as you delicately maneuvered the bristles of your paintbrush across the canvas propped on the easel before you. With each stroke, you lost yourself in the colors and textures, creating a masterpiece with every dip into the paint. Lando lounged effortlessly on the couch nearby. His book of poetry lay open on his lap as he drifted between reading and writing his own verses, occasionally glancing over at your focused form with admiration.

As you meticulously adjusted the details of your painting, Lando watched you with rapt attention. His eyes traced every movement of your fingers as they delicately flicked and swirled, expertly mixing colors on the palette before you. A small smirk played at his lips, knowing how much you loathed having your hair fall in front of your face while you worked, but he couldn't help but find it endearing. Despite the messiness of your pulled back hair, you were a vision of determination and grace as you poured your soul onto the canvas before you. The room was filled with the subtle scent of paint, creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped both of you in its embrace.

You almost forgot Lando was in the room with how hard you were concentrating and how lost in your own work you got. Your mind had become an amalgamation of paint swirls and the fleeting visions you had for the finished product. You'd pause in your work, tilting your head to the side as if listening for a whisper from the canvas. Your eyes would narrow in concentration, searching for any missing touches that could bring the painting to life. Speckles of dried paint adorned your hands and lower arms, an accidental splattering of colors and textures from your passionate strokes. Some droplets even found their way onto your jeans.

After roughly three hours you emitted a sigh, “I hate it.” You proclaimed, dropping your brush in the water cup with frustration. 

“What?” Lando replied, his voice filled with disbelief as he shifted to get a better view of your work. It was a painting unlike anything he had ever seen before. The landscape seemed to stretch on for miles, depicting a fantastical realm that existed only in dreams. Cobblestone steps, now aged and overgrown with moss, wound their way up to towering trees with branches adorned in shades of blue and purple. A sense of magic emanated from the painting, transporting Lando to another world entirely. “Love, this is exquisite,” he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing scene before him.

You rolled your eyes in frustration, the words dripping with disappointment. "You always say that," you muttered under your breath. The painting before you felt off, no matter how much you added or changed. The colors, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed dull and lifeless. You let out a heavy sigh and pushed yourself up from the floor, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash off the paint from your hands. As the water splashed against your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat. All that hard work, all those hours spent perfecting every brushstroke, and it still wasn't good enough. You considered tossing the painting altogether, feeling disheartened by its lack of beauty.

Lando couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. “You must be joking.” He almost laughed, “I think you’d be the only person on the planet to hate this painting.”

You walked over to him lounging on the couch, his notebook resting on his broad chest. The warm glow of the sun filtered through the large windows, casting a golden halo around his head. His tousled brown curls lay playfully on his forehead, and his tanned skin was like honey. He motioned for you to join him on the couch, and without hesitation, your body molded to his as if they were made to fit together. Your chest pressed firmly against his side, and your arms naturally draped over his toned torso. From this close distance, you could admire every tiny detail of his face - the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the slight dimple in his cheek, and the gentle curve of his lips as he focused on his notebook. You couldn't help but feel a rush of love and admiration for this man who captivated you with just a mere glance.

Your body rose and fell in sync with his breath, a gentle rhythm that calmed your frustration over the failed canvas beside you. “May I share something with you?” He asked in a hushed tone, flipping through the pages of his worn notebook.

“Always, my love,” You grinned, anticipating the words he was about to share. Lando had a way of weaving you into each of his pieces, making every poem and story feel like a love letter written just for you. Over the years as partners, he had slowly but surely merged your essence into all of his work.

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world / Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl / Happens great, happens sweet / Happily, I’m unfazed here too. / Wasteland, baby, I’m in love, I’m in love with you 

Your lips curled into a smile as you listened to his poetry, savoring each carefully crafted word that flowed effortlessly from his mind and onto the page. It was like a river of beauty and emotion, twisting and turning through your thoughts as you marveled at his ability to weave such intricate and poignant verses.

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed / Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass / Like the bonfire that burns / At all worth in the fight fell too / Wasteland, baby, I’m in love, I’m in love with you 

“That’s breathtaking Lando, truly.” You look into his gorgeous gaze as your hands rested on his chest.

"Do you really think so?” He questioned, his critical eye scanning over his own work. And in that moment, you realized just how much of perfectionists the two of you were. Never satisfied with your own creations, always searching for flaws and imperfections. But in each other's eyes, the flaws were transformed into a unique kind of beauty, every word and brush stroke telling a story of its own.

“I know so,” you whispered, leaning closer to him. As his lips met yours, a surge of electricity shot through your body, causing your heart to flutter and your stomach to do somersaults. In that moment, you were painfully aware of how deeply in love you were with him - with his mind, his touch, the way he loved you back with such fierce passion. A million stars seemed to explode around you as you lost yourself in his touch.

As you basked in the warmth of his embrace, his lips traced a path of delicate kisses along your neck and collarbone. His breath was sweet with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, intoxicating your senses. Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but smile and revel in the feeling of complete contentment.

With a smirk on his face, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "How did I get so lucky with you?" he asked, his words dripping with adoration.

You returned his gaze, feeling your heart swell with love for him. "Some may say it's fate," you replied softly. But as you melted under his touch and the sound of his voice, you knew that it was something much deeper than mere chance.

It was a force stronger than any other, binding the two of you together in an unbreakable bond.

[thefandomthings]

𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Middle Brothers (Separate) x Gn!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive in both (🤭), fluff,

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I am so sorry this took so long, and I apologize is Asmo is ooc, I'm not good at writing him lol

Tags: @veethewriter @demon-master-zero

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 Part 2

I believe Satan is a sucker for old school romance, you can't tell me otherwise.

He loves the idea of sending each other love letters and poems.

He often writes about you, by often I mean everytime he writes, it's about you.

Satan even uses an ink pen and paper, his penmanship is extraordinary.

He isn't really into romance novels, but in some of his mystery/murder-mysterys there is romance

You've read a handful of Satan's books, plus your own collection.

You've recently started reading an older Novel, it's written very poetic, the main characters have started exchanging small love notes to one another.

That gave you the most brilliant idea, you'd start writing notes to Satan, leaving them on his book marks and on the inside cover of his new novels.

Satan is very witty, it takes a lot to make him get flustered, but the first note he received from you, he blushed.

You've never been one to openly talk about how you are feeling, you express yourself in different ways, such as gift giving or quality time. You've also noticed Satan has a hard time expressing himself, instead resorts to poetry and writing love letters to you.

You are currently sitting in the HoL library, your current novel sitting on your lap. You messed with the spoon in your luke warm tea while reading the poetic lines. You smiled as the main characters declared their love for each other, a warm feeling flooding in your chest.

You are desperately waiting for Satan to come back from his meeting with Diavolo and his brothers, wanting to see his face when the little folded piece of paper slips out from his new book.

It took you quite a long time to think of this note, it's a poem. It probably sounds lame next to Satan's poetry, you've read famous poets work and they are nothing compared to The Avatar of Wraths'.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Library door opens. Satan gave a small smile, his teeth aren't showing it's just a small curve of his lips.

"Hello Kitten"

He leans down and kisses your forehead rather gently before grabbing his book and sitting next to you. You instinctively stretch your legs out into his lap, his slender fingers brushing against the skin of your ankle and shin.

Satan uses his other hand to open his book, and just as you planned the small piece of paper slowly falls into his lap against your legs. You shyly hide behind your book, pretending to read. You could feel his chest and torso rumble while he read the poem to himself.

It's hard to remember what you wrote, the adrenaline making you loose your memory and only focus on now.

You do remember how hard you thought about all the write words, and what kind of poem it would be. To make his heart flutter the way he makes yours leap and soar. To make him feel the tingling sensation that spreads into your finger tips when you feel yourself falling in love more and more.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin, his hands gliding further up your legs before gripping under your knees and bringing you into his lap.

Your nose was pressed to headband of your book, the delightful smell of the old paper pages filling your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, you could feel the tingling of the blush spreading down your neck and to your ears.

Satan could only chuckle and remove the book from your face and set it on the sofa beside him. His hands set themselves on your hips, his glowing green eyes shining like brightest star in a dark night.

He gently kissed you, his hands moving to cup your face and rub your cheek bones. The kiss was full of love and passion, slow and steady. Both of your hearts pounding in your chest, skin on fire from each others touch.

He pulled away and hugged you, his head rested against your neck and shoulder. Your chest fluttered, your heart was in your throat as Satan's lips brushed against your pulse then he spoke.

"I love you"

I strongly think Asmo designs clothes, and you are his muse and model.

He absolutely loves when you agree to be his inspiration.

And he also loves when you let him take your measurements. He likes how your body feels in his hands.

Asmo is very observant, it doesn't seem like it cause he's utterly obsessed with himself. But he knows everything about everyone. (Gossip King)

He especially knows every detail about you, you decide if that's creepy or sweet.

He absolutely loves when you tease him when working, it gives him excitement!

"MC, My darling muse I need your beauty." Asmo falls against his bed next to you, his delicate skin pressed against his silk pillowcase. You hum setting your phone down and moving his hair away from his eyes the way he likes. He smiled looking at you with stars in his eyes.

"What are you thinking and what was your inspiration?" You asked leaning on your arm. Asmo was quiet, his eyes scanning your face and down your body.

"You are always inspiration Darling." He smiled before hoping out of his bed and opening his fabric closet. You giggled and stood next to your boyfriend admiring the hundreds of fabrics.

"Stand over here." He points to the large wood box coated in glitter and pink paint. You nodded slipping off your clothes, leaving only your undergarments.

"MC, you devious human." Asmo giggled, suddenly appearing behind you. His slim hands glided around your body adjusting the measuring tape at your hip. "Always so beautiful..".

Your skin erupted with goosebumps, your shoulders shaking with a slight shiver at his touch. He giggles, he nails running over you rub cage.

"Hold still MC, or my measurements will be wrong." He pressed gently kisses along your skin, your face was rosy staring down at his thick, pink hair.

"Asmo, the tape is loose." You teased watching him adjust the tape.

"You little Minx.." He bit the soft flesh of your hip making you yelp. He giggled loudly before walking over to his sowing machine and writing your measurements on his note pad.

You reached down for your clothes but his voice stopped you, "Keep them off Love, I still need more measurements." His smile was sweet, but devilish.

God, he loved looking at you. So comfortable in his presence, just helping him gives him joy he hasn't had since the fall. You help him in more ways then one. And he loves you more than anything, including himself. And he never lets your forget that.

[author-mandi-bean]

How to Make the Most of National Poetry Month

In my 2022-2023 planner, during this week which is my Spring Break, I wrote in all capital letters: START LIVING MY BEST WRITING LIFE! What better time to start than during National Poetry Month?

[haosweater]

perhaps i loved you.

content: idol! jeonghan x gn! reader, angst, fluff, past life au, coffee shop au, royalty au (just read, you’ll get it), unrequited love.

summary: a unique cafe down fifth avenue opens a whole new door of surprises for jeonghan.

word count: 1.4k

note: based this off the short exert i wrote at the end lol. totally not inspired by real life events haha… also i’m writing this at almost two in the morning please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes.

it was cloudy. the sun peeked through the smallest crevices it could find as the wind gently brushed against jeonghan’s skin.

he shivered, pulling his green cardigan on tighter. he reached up, grabbing his white bucket hat to make sure it didn’t fly away. god knew the wind was ruthless these past few days. jeonghan felt like the world seemed to be against him.

he hummed along to his music, walking down the street in solace. the cherry blossoms bloomed magnificently, its pink petals falling to spread its beauty. he looked up, admiring the trees with a gentle smile.

there weren’t a lot of people out this time of the day and jeonghan liked that. he liked the comfort of not being recognised, being able to go about his day peacefully. the solitude was exactly what he needed.

inhaling a deep breath, he turned and continued down the street. the shops down this road were vintage. unique little thrift stores, record stores, quaint coffee shops that sold overpriced coffee— wait.

jeonghan paused, staring into the shop. olive green bookshelves lined the beige walls of the shop. behind, there was a counter with coffee machines and cake displays. at the very front of the store, there was a table. it had two chairs with a typewriter sitting on it.

a cafe? no, bookstore? or was it a vintage thrift store? confused, jeonghan looked up at the sign.

‘caffeinated literature’.

‘how peculiar,‘ jeonghan thought. glancing around, he peeked into the cafe again, noticing no one was inside. he wondered if it was closed, a slight pang of disappointment filling his chest.

however, the ‘open’ sign on the door proved him wrong. his eyes moved down, and noticed the poster on the door, prompting him to move closer and read it.

enjoy a cup of coffee,

and let me write you poetry.

welcome to caffeinated literature.

it didn’t take jeonghan another second to push the glass door open, the soft chime of the bell ringing in the air. “hello?” he called out softly.

there was a muffled crash followed by a yelp, shocking him. “hello! just give me a moment! please, take a seat!”

jeonghan sat down apprehensively, fluffing the cushion beside him. the interior was cozy, minimalistic and welcoming. swinging his feet, he continued to observe his surroundings, not realising you had emerged from behind the counter.

“hello, so sorry about that! what can i get for you today?” you panted, handing him the menu.

jeonghan looked at you in awe. your voice sounded like sweet, smooth honey that dripped slowly into a cup of warm tea. there was a sense of familiarity to you, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“uh, sorry,” he mumbles, snapping out of his thoughts. “i’ll just get an iced cappuccino and a poem, please.”

you grin. “great choice. i’ll be right back with your coffee, so just take a seat in tbe front,” you gesture to the table with the typewriter. he nods, getting up as you disappear behind the counter.

jeonghan feels light-headed from staring at you. something about you was so enchanting, so magical and so familiar. he sighed, annoyed that he was unable to figure out what it was.

the aroma of his coffee drifted in the air as you brought it over. he thanked you as you sat across him, smiling as he sipped on it slowly.

“oh, wow, this is really good,” he remarked, licking his lips. “thank you.”

“it’s no problem,” you say, smiling. “now, for the poem,” you gently slot the paper into the typewriter. turning around, you turn the speaker on, calm jazz music filling the cafe.

“i know this sounds rather far-fetched, but i usually hold people’s hands to get a better feel of their aura before i write their poem. do you mind if i do that with you?”

jeonghan shakes his head almost instantly. “no, not at all,” he says, extending his hands.

you smile, nodding in acknowledgement as you take his hands into yours, slowly shutting your eyes.

jeonghan shivered, and suddenly, he wasn’t in the cafe anymore.

he was now clad in formal wear, standing at the entrance to a balcony. you stood at the edge, back facing him. the moon was bright and the stars shone in the sky.

“i didn’t expect you to come,” your voice wavered. jeonghan couldn’t speak– he could not control what he did.

“i’m here now, aren’t i?” he chuckles, swirling the glass of wine in his hand. “what bothers you, my dear, on the night we are to celebrate?”

when you turn around, tears rolling down your cheeks, he freezes. you stare at him, sniffing softly. even when you’re crying, you look breath-taking to him.

averting your gaze, you sigh. “i can’t lie to you anymore, han,” you whisper. “tonight i watched you get married to the love of your life, confessing your love to each other in front of the whole kingdom,” you look up at him again.

“and now, i will confess my love to you, in front of the moon and stars.”

jeonghan is in shock. he doesn’t know how to comprehend this situation. it is all too fast, too quick– was this his past life?

“i have loved you ever since we were kids, han. my heart has held onto you tightly, refusing to let go. i’ve seen the best and the worst of you. i’ve seen all your flaws and imperfections and yet still i love you. i have been your friend, but never once did i love you like one. i loved you more than that. i would sacrifice the moon and the stars just to gaze at your beauty. i would burn the kingdom down if you wanted me to. my heart aches and yearns for your touch, your love, your heart and i know i will never get it, but i had to tell you.”

by the time you’re done, you’re panting, out of breath. jeonghan wants to rush forward and hold you, but his body stops him. there is no control.

“b-but y/n, i’m a prince and you’re a—”

“knight, i know,” you sob. “i prayed to the gods every day that my heart would let go of you because i knew i could never be yours, nor you, mine.”

jeonghan simply stood there, heart aching at the sight of you. “i am sorry, y/n. i am sorry i cannot love you the way you want me to,” he whispers, taking a step forward.

“it’s okay, han,” you say softly, tears staining your once rosy cheeks. wiping them away, you look at him with a sad smile. “it was never meant to be anyways.”

with a loud gasp, jeonghan finds himself back in cafe. he’s panting, eyes darting around vigorously before landing on you.

you were crying.

and so was he.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, wiping your tears away. “i don’t know why i’m crying,” you whisper, trying to stop yourself from crying, but the tears keep coming.

“it’s okay,” jeonghan stutters, quickly wiping his own tears. he wants to comfort you more, but he couldn’t find the words to. he felt like he didn’t deserve to.

sniffing, your fingers suddenly start to gly across the typewriter, the clicks ringing in the air. jeonghan observes you intensely, watching you throw draft after draft away. you were clearly frustrated.

finally, after his ice had melted, his coffee finished, you were done.

“sorry,” you say, removing the paper. “i had a hard time finding the right words,” you confessed as he smiled.

he looked down, reading the poem as you fidgeted with your fingers. his eyes drift across each word, heart clenching as he reached the last line.

“this is beautiful,” he says breathlessly. “thank you. i love it.”

you return the smile. “thank you for coming. i hope to see you again.”

jeonghan’s heart flutters at your words momentarily. “thank you for the coffee and poem. and who knows? perhaps i will see you again,” he chuckles before waving goodbye, pushing the glass door open as the bell chimed.

the breeze was stronger now, and jeonghan had to grab onto his hat again. with a loud sigh, he began to walk down the street, thoughts flooding his mind. it was racing, restless and utterly confused.

as he reached the end, he stopped at a traffic light, waiting for it to turn green. pulling out the piece of paper, he reread what you had written, tears forming in the corner of his eyes once again.

‘who are you,

stranger?

you look rather familiar.

perhaps i have loved you.

in another life.’

[dark-and-kawaii]

I’ve really been enjoying your Raphael content and I was hoping to request something along the lines of Raphael reading to tav. Bonus points for dadphael

༺ 𝒜 𝒯𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 ༻

Summary: Raphael Reads To You And His Unborn Child.

Note: This was a lovely request, thank you xoxo

No Warnings, Pure Softness

Raphael lounged in his chair, sipping on a glass of wine as his eyes scanned over his newly acquired poetry book you had brought back for him. As always, you had an uncanny ability to choose books he thoroughly enjoyed. Setting down his glass he glanced down at you. Your head rested on his thigh, your arms wrapped around his leg holding him close to your chest while you sat on the ground next to him.

He gently played with your hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers before gently massaging your scalp. You let out a soft little mewl as he hit a particular spot on your head, causing goosebumps to form on your arms. It made Raphael chuckle. You were practically purring under his ministrations.

"You’ve quite the talent for bringing me the finest of treasures." he murmured, a smile on his face as you tilted your head back to look up at him. You returned the smile with a soft hum, letting your cheek rest against his thigh.

"You deserve nothing but the best, my love." you said softly, your hand lightly stroking his calf. "I like seeing you happy... I only wish i could've gotten you the crown, but Gale..."

Raphael shook his head, his fingers leaving your hair to cup your chin. With a tender tilt, he guided your sight to lock with his own. "All in due time, my precious little mouse. Time shall turn the tide, but for now we must embrace patience. Upon the arrival of my child, our ranks shall swell with another soul to seek the crown."

You nodded slightly, nuzzling his palm as his hand shifted, your lips graced by his thumb before it finds its way back to your hair to resume its work.

You relaxed, your eyes closing while massaging your swollen stomach, "Read to us, Raphael?" you requested, "Please? It's something i truly enjoy, besides... Your voice, it's so beautiful... And I can't imagine your little one not liking it either."

How could he not concede to such a heartfelt plea? "Very well," Turning his attention back to his book, he started to read aloud a poem from his new volume. His voice low and melodious, soothing you, your eyes fluttered closed as you listened.

"In the bristling thicket, small and meek,

A mouse with a spirit far from weak,

Nibbled on seeds, a feast so slight,

Aware of the fox in the pale moonlight,"

-The rhythmic tone of his voice, the smooth flow of his words, it made a tingle of heat form within your belly-

“Not a hunter, but a friend,

Vowed to shield her to the end,

Against the hawk, against the owl,

In the night when creatures prowl.

A pact unseen by day's bright light,

Forged in trust through the quiet night.”

Your hand slid up his thigh and he shifted, spreading his legs open. A subtle invitation for whatever it is you wished to do. You shifted, rising to your knees and leaning forward between his legs. Your arms wrapped around his waist best they could so you could use his stomach as a pillow.

“Each night beneath the star's gentle sweep,

He guards her dreams, her peaceful sleep,

Whiskers twitching, she slumbers unaware,

Of the fox’s gentle loving stare.”

Raphael paused, glancing down at you. Your eyes were shut, your breathing slowed. Like the mouse in his book it would seem sleep had taken its hold on you.

Setting his book aside he carefully shifted you. He pulled you into his lap, his hand finding its way to the swell of your stomach as he held you in a protective embrace.

Raphael could feel his little one wriggle and shift in the safety of your womb. Gently he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his eyes studying your features.

Just like the fox in the book, Raphael silently vowed to protect you and his little one to the very end. And that the hells would bend to his will once he has the crown, and all will be well.

[arisingonmorningsinnocent]

Years later, I still think “Poetry Week” was one of the cleverest things the WTNV writing team ever did. Like they took an episode concept that was literally just “Night Vale citizens write poetry and Cecil reads it on the radio! Cute, right? :)” and made it about people living in a dystopian surveillance state using one of their rare opportunities for self-expression to express the fear and paranoia and low grade trauma that shape their daily lives through absolutely horrifying poems. 

Poems about censorship, about anger against the state, about being forcibly silenced (“The town criers have cross-stitched their mouths shut and stapled their eyes open.”), about being watched, being harmed, being turned against the people you love but are unable to fully trust. And all interspersed with Cecil’s cheery, meaningless compliments on writing that he clearly isn’t thinking about (or at least is pretending not to understand the subtext of, which is my personal headcanon). 

Honestly I kind of want to do a full textual analysis of Katherine Ciel’s poem (under the cut) alone, because it’s a beautiful piece of writing where it’s so clear how hard the fictional poet is trying to veiledly describe what it’s like to live with Night Vale-typical level of fear and tension and random, unpredictable moments of surreal violence. The way people become numb to the horror (“Many find it difficult to breathe/without the atmosphere,/but we knew how;/we just stopped breathing”) but also the way that same numbness cuts them off from other people and makes intimacy with others into a terrifying, monstrous thing. And Cecil reads this as a traffic report. I am trying SO hard not to write a whole essay about this. 

But my favorite thing about “Poetry Week” is that it’s no more disturbing than any other Night Vale episode. Same humor, same beautiful prose, like it’s not on a different level than the rest of the show and I can and often do listen to it as just one more soothing, funny WTNV episode. Which is fun because it’s a meta-parallel to how in-universe Poetry Week is a fun community event to bring the town together, but also a rare and precious opportunity for tacit protest against an oppressive regime.

And I just… this podcast is so good, you know? Man. It’s so good. I want to eat it.

On Sunday, a lambent crevice

opened up in the street outside my house.

By Tuesday, birds were flying into it.

“I probably won’t miss you,” my mother said.

“I’m only interested in the end of the world,” I replied.

Many find it difficult to breathe

without the atmosphere,

but we knew how;

we just stopped breathing.

We’re at the Moonlite All-Nite Diner,

and they’re serving up fruit

from the plants growing out of the waitress.

The closed sign whispers, “Please, don’t touch me.”

We watch bodies fall to the ground outside

like deep sea creatures surfacing.

You turn to me and ask,

“Do you ever think about suicide?”

I look away from you and close my eyes,

eat the raspberries to confuse the blood in my mouth.

Now you’re in the only car in the parking lot at midnight

and you’re watching me throw stones at the moon

which hangs low in the sky

so that he can look into your house.

Your sister tried to touch him

from her window once,

and he flinched.

Now he and the oceans watch her with a quiet concern.

The lilac sky is trying to rest her head on his shoulder,

all trees gradually growing through her.

A hummingbird whispers to you,

“Be careful. Under her dress is her skin,”

and then builds his nest in the middle of the highway.

I look back to you,

and you close your eyes.

[formulapai]

THE MUSES BY YOUR SIDE PT1

a Lance Stroll social media AU

scenario: the “history of literature”’s student taking over instagram slowly attracts a driver, curious about beautiful words and dazzling writings. OR how to fall in love through poems and handwritten letters.

warning:

pai’s words: i studied history of literature while in uni (this is not the name it has where I live but from what I’ve read, it’s part of what I studied) and absolutely fell in love with poems analysis. also, i have an unhealthy obsession with myths so yeah.

romanticalliope made a new post!

liked by user1, user2 and others.

romanticalliope: 🖋️🪞🐈🎨

1. Putting words on words, explaining the explanation.

2. Went to the market, fell in love with mirrors and what they reflected. The sky, the clouds, my eyes, the seller’s kind smile, life passing by.

3. Gaia is learning about her Name and what it implies, carefully reading as she takes in the beauty of her own myth.

4. “Le Villi” Bartolomeo Giuliano.

user1: gaia seems to be enjoying her book ! can we know what it is ?

romanticalliope: Of course darling, it’s Pride and Prejudice ! She surely took a liking to it, as I did after reading it the first time. 🤍

user2: those mirrors are to DIE for, i need them plz

romanticalliope: They are, aren’t they ? I sadly didn’t take one home..

user3: Will we have another poem analysis soon ? I love them so much, it helps me a lot with understanding literature !

romanticalliope: I’m very grateful for your comment, helping all of you understand poetry is my main goal and I’m glad it’s working. An analysis will be out tomorrow ! 🤍

user4: Hey, random question but do you have a playlist ? I feel like you have divine music tastes 🥹🥹🥹

romanticalliope: Well, that’s a high praise, thank you my sweet. I don’t have a public playlist for now but will surely make one if people are interested :) 🤍

user1: YES PLEASE

user5: we are SO interested 🥳🥳

♥️liked by romanticalliope

romanticalliope just posted a new story!

seen by user5, user6 and others

user7: I WAS WAITING FOR IT OMG

user8: Thank you for this analysis!! 🥹🫶

romanticalliope made a new post!

liked by user9, user10 and others

romanticalliope: 🫐🕸️🐈📰

1. One of the Water Lily’s paintings from Claude Monet, in Paris. Undoubtedly one of my favorite paintings, it’s truly magnificent.

2. Matching Spider-Man Lego keychains with my friend. I’ll forever be enamored with my friends.

3. Gaia is disturbing my reading time as the sun is hugging us. Karma is the cat purring on my lap because it loves me, I guess.

4. The market in the morning, the scent of newspapers and mimosas surrounding us.

user2: the Spider-Man keychains omg 🥹🥹

user9: estie bestie would love them lol

user2: oh bestie while I 100% agree, I doubt Cassie knows about estie bestie..

romanticalliope: Ahah, I do know about Esteban :) and I bet he’d adore them too 🤍

user11: CASSIE SWIFTIE ???

romanticalliope: Confirmed 🥰

user5: I feel like you really like Impressionism, is it your favorite style ?? Also I LOVE this painting, still didn’t have the chance to see it IRL :(

romanticalliope: Impressionism is my favorite indeed ! I hope you’ll be able to see it soon, it’s truly something 🤍

romanticalliope made a new post!

liked by estebanocon, user 9 and others

romanticalliope: 🖋️🍂🔑🐝

1. A new tattoo, an illustration for Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe. While I don’t particularly like this writer, this poem has changed the trajectory of my life and I felt it was only fair to have it engraved in me, forever.

2. Walking back from university and feeling leaves crunching beneath my weight, the smell of wet asphalt taking over my senses.

3. My friends and I going to the Lego store and standing in front of the keychains for a good few minutes, admiring the tiny persons.

4. A picture with Esteban, from 2016, baby face and all. For those not believing I actually knew who he was 😬😉

estebanocon: Nooon les deux enfants qu’on était ! On doit faire d’autre photos plus récentes 🤣 (nooo the two children we were ! we need to take more recent pictures)

romanticalliope: Invite moi dans le garage Alpine et on prend autant de photos que tu veux 😭 (invite me inside the Alpine garage and we’ll take as much pics as you want)

estebanocon: Bien compris 🫡 (understood)

user12: THE TATTOO OH GOD ITS SO PRETTY

user13: ESTIE 😭😭😭 A BABY

user14: I didn’t expect to see f1 related posts on this account 😬 not complaining tho !

user2: me neither !

user9: the tattoo is breathtaking, cheers to the artist !!

[poetrysmackdown]

THE FINAL SMACKDOWN.

Big congratulations to "The Two-Headed Calf" for a solid win over "How to Be a Dog" (and to our Third Place competitor, "Wild Geese")!

Thank you to all who participated. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you guys did as well! I've said it before but I had no idea this would get as big as it did, and it's been truly heartening to see this many people engaging with poetry and getting excited about it. I'm personally grateful to all the folks I got the chance to discuss poems with, and everyone who challenged me to see these poems in a new light. Whether you were introduced to new poems or reunited with old ones, whether you voted with the majority or against it, I hope you got something out of this as well.

As promised, here is the grand stats spreadsheet. The smackdown with the highest turnout was the semifinal matchup "The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin vs. "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver with 17,449 votes! In second place, Round 1: "Poem" by Langston Hughes vs. "A Meeting" by Wendell Berry with 16,690 votes.

Unfortunately my real-life responsibilities have hit me like a truck and I don't have time to do a whole post dedicated to reviewing more of it, but I hope y'all might share any insights you have below! I also included the word count stats on the "summary" page, as suggested in this ask by @puddinginthemix. Nevertheless, they don't seem to demonstrate a concrete trend in one direction or the other—the mean word count difference technically gives a slight edge to longer poems in competition, but with such an insane standard deviation as to render the whole thing silly.

On the topic of a sequel.

After some deliberation, I've decided I would love to do another one of these focusing on poems that are lesser-known on Tumblr! In a perfect world I would just jump right in again, but it's quickly becoming clear to me that I will not have time to sort through/pair submissions and then run the thing while balancing work and school in the upcoming semester. With that in mind, my plan is to run it over the winter holidays so I'm able to give it more of my attention. That said, I've already made the submission form, and I'm tempted to release that ASAP so that I can use any downtime in the fall to read, review, and structure things thoughtfully. I also just figure it'll get a higher volume of submissions if I release it now. I know it's probably not ideal, but would people be cool with me opening submissions earlier, even if it means there'll be a significant time gap between submission and competition? If so, I'll get that out no later than Tuesday, and likely keep it open for a few weeks (unless it gets, like, seriously swamped lol).

Lastly, I've still got some asks I need to get through.....they're still on my mind. I'll do my best to respond to everyone within the next week!

Thank you again to everyone who participated, it's been such a joy!

[spiceofvy]

Hello 🤗 can I pls request BTS headcanons where they have a crush on a non celebrity female reader who is their friend? Thank you ❤️😊

BTS - Having a crush on a friend

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun writing somethin sweet and fluffy like this! I hope you enjoy it too!

cws: written with a fem!reader in mind but no gendered terms used, sfw, fluffy, nothing else to tag, this is really just wholesome and cute

Seokjin: This crush will be no secret. He hits on you constantly. All the bad flirting, but he is pretty so he gets away with it. This also includes flowers, fancy food and random trips to the beach. You choose the music of course. Everyone always assumes that you are already a couple, when in reality he is still trying to get you to go out with him. And if you can't tell from all his flirting he will just give it to you directly. "Can't you tell that I've been trying to get you to go out with me?"

Yoongi: He is very much in control of his feelings, but his actions speak so loudly. He's always by your side. Whenever you come over he has your favorite food prepared for you. He gets really flustered whenever someone calls him out on it, blushing and telling them off. But he probably won't confess to you himself, someone else drops it by accident and he gives up with damage control "Yeah he's right y/n… I am in love with you"

Hoseok: This man hypes you up. You go shopping together? So many compliments. You join him in the studio? He treats you like the best dancer in the world. He also takes you with him on every vacation he gets offered. No matter if it's fashion shows or trips for music recordings, you are everywhere with him. Confessing to you will not be an active choice on his side but the end of a long ramble of his. "You know, that's why I think I love you so much. Wait…"

Namjoon: Oh he knows everything about you. But not in a creepy way. He read all your favorite books, so he can discuss them with you later. Knows your favorite artists, and has a perfect playlist for you, no matter your mood. Sends you so much art he likes, paintings, poetry, all of it. He just loves to share his life with you. There will be no confession, more you calling him out why he sent you like 6 love poems in one night "Ah… I guess it was kinda obvious…"

Jimin: You stay his cute little secret. No one gets to look at you. You are his best friend and only his. No matter how often the others ask to meet you. He will keep you for himself. So his confession is also very private. Just the two of you in his apartment, he got you takeout and your favorite playlist is playing in the background. When he takes your hand and quietly whispers to you. "I just want to tell you, that I have been in love with you for so long."

Taehyung: No but why do I think that he talks with Yeontan about you? Because he definetly does. Whenever he comes home from your place he immediately falls into a quick ramble about you, gushing about you smiling widely. So much that Yeontan probably reacts to your name and of course you are over a lot so he also gets really excited to see you. Taehyung will confess to you unintentionally "You know, I think Yeontan is also in love with you"

Jungkook: This man can not hide his crushes to save his life. It will be so obvious. Whenever he sees you he has the brightest smile, being so excited to spent time with you. He introduces you to all his friends, and if anyone ever says something wrong about you or looks at you weirdly he gets really defensive. He confesses to you with a big gesture. "What? No this is not too much! This is just enough to show how much I love you!"