#ooc / the poet

[zymogenn]

[melodyreads]

Once you fix your face, I’m going in

hamzah x reader

description: a few months after breaking up, the reader is determined to get hamzah back. stubbornly she can’t help but find herself drawn back to him. despite acting as though she could care less about the situation; little does he know she’s been plotting their inevitable reconciliation.

took inspiration from this song (i love this album so much it does not deserve the hate)

enjoy <3

—

Y/n didn't know exactly how she got here, but she knew she sure as hell wasn't leaving.

At least not until he got there.

As she leaned against the bar, she felt wandering eyes on her but not the ones she wanted. She had just come back from the office dressed in her usual fitted slacks and button-up. She could see her colleagues socializing a few tables away. It was a special day for them, a birthday or something, but that didn't concern you. What concerned you was the boy in the navy-blue hat who had just walked in.

Y/n and Hamzah had dated for almost a year before their relationship wafted out like a flame in the dead of winter. This being said, the Christmas lights did not add any holiday cheer to the situation. It made sense, both were too stubborn for each other they fought like children over who was right and wrong. Was their relationship destined to end this way?

Y/n had always considered herself a low-maintenance girlfriend. In her past relationship, her boyfriends would even go as far as to say that she put them on the back burner. She always just claimed to not need a lot of attention. She was very self-efficient and liked spending time alone.

That was until she met Hamzah.

This was the first time a man had completely captivated her attention. She loved everything about him. The way he carried himself. The way he laughed. The way the top of his shirts fit his chest and arms. The way his curls peaked out whenever he wore a hat. She couldn't get enough.

She thought he felt the same way, but after she got a new promotion at work and found herself tied back to the office, she noticed Hamzah starting to get weary. This led to Hamzah starting to be distant with you, which for the first time, caused you to side with all of your exes.

"I just don't understand why you're being so dry." Y/n started in a huff; she ran her hands through her hair. As he stood in front of her in a gray hoodie and his hands in his pockets, she wished it wouldn't be out of social standards to just jump his bones right then and there.

He shrugged, "I don't know, that's how I've always been. Why do you care anyway? It's not like you're here half the time."

This constant back and forth grew tiresome by the minute. Both of you decided to call it quits in the most rushed and blunt manner possible. After going months without any communication from the two of you, the truth hung in front of you like a thread waiting to be pulled.

You missed him.

Y/n was too proud to call him and definitely too proud to ask for forgiveness to take her back. So, she resulted in the only resolution she saw as reasonable. Ask Mandy to set up a party with some old friends and secretly invite her.

She swore she was low maintenance. Mandy laughed.

Her face became hot as she saw him enter the bar. She turned away so fast she swore she got whiplash. Fixing her eyes on her half-finished drink she thought of all the names he could call her after seeing her for the first time in months. Although she could do the same, she would much rather skip that part and throw him onto the couch of her apartment.

She needed to get out of her head. She turned back to see where her target had moved to but turns out he had gotten lost in the sea of head crowding the bar. It really was a busy night.

"Maybe Mandy should have picked a weekday to plan this scheduled pursuit." As she thought this she turned to her right and saw him.

He was leaning against the bar with his arms as he was ordering from the already busy bartender.

He was wearing baggy camo pants with a shirt that had a reference on it she probably didn't understand. He always had to explain his references to her. But he always took the time to make sure she understood every single one of them.

God, she missed him.

She must have been staring too hard because suddenly his deep brown eyes had made their way over to hers. They faltered for a moment almost unable to believe what they were seeing. His face hadn't changed from when she had last seen him the night they had left things. She was met with the words exchanged that night and all too fast came to her senses.

This was a mistake.

She turned around and hastily made her way through the crowd of people. Attempting to the door would be much harder now that she had started this war. Her wrist was suddenly caught by a much larger hand and an even greater grip.

She turned meekly to meet the eyes of the boy she once knew so well, the one whose voice still echoed in the quiet corners of her mind. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was firm—unwilling to let her slip away as easily as she had intended.

“Wait,” he said, his voice rough with something she couldn’t quite place—anger, hurt, desperation? Maybe all three.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. “I was just leaving” she said unable to meet his eyes, turning her head back to the door up front suddenly wishing teleportation wasn't a futuristic idea.

His eyes searched hers, and for a moment, the noise around them seemed to fade.

"I've been waiting for you" he finally said. This got her attention. She turned back to see his eyes soft and yearning. "It's been months, but I figured you would have called if you wanted to see me"

"Who says I want to see you now?" She said as she finally pulled her hand out of his grip.

Hamzah rolled his eyes, "I know you better than that Y/N, you set this up, didn't you?"

Y/n looked away crossing her arms "I don't know what you're talking about," she waited for a beat before saying anything more, "but if there was something you wanted to say to me, I would expect you to say it now."

He smiled down at her with a boyish grin, "You still haven't changed" he chuckled to himself.

Before y/n could come up with a response to this, Hamzah had reached out to cup her face in his hands. Her eyes grew wide as his mouth met hers once more.

It was familiar yet different, carrying the weight of all the words left unsaid and the time they had lost. Y/n’s breath hitched as a rush of emotions flooded through her. She had sworn she wouldn’t let this happen again, that she wouldn’t fall into the same cycle, but the warmth of his hands against her skin and the way he kissed her like she was something he had been without for too long made it impossible to say no.

After what felt like both a second and an eternity, she pulled away, her lips tingling, her mind spinning. Hamzah’s forehead rested lightly against hers, his breath fanning across her face.

Y/n looked into his dark eyes, unable to tell if this was a dream or not under all the strobe lights. It sure felt like one.

She looked up at him and grinned ear to ear, "I knew you would come to your senses".

He stared at her for a beat before pushing her away, "What is that supposed to mean?"

She closed the gap one more time pressing her body against his as she draped her arms around his neck, and she kissed his mouth with fever. "Don't ruin it".

He scoffed but didn't break the kiss, "What happened to where we left things before?"

She smirked against his mouth at this before pulling back just enough to whisper in his ear, "You were never not mine."

She pulled him back in.

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

i like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

i like your body. i like what it does,

i like its hows. i like to feel the spine

of your body and its bones,and the trembling

-firm-smooth ness and which i will

again and again and again

kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,

i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz

of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes

over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

-e e cummings

keating gave me a book of poetry from his office recently. he said it might give me inspiration for our next assignment. i found this poem in there, and i just wanted to share it. i think maybe it's too much for a dead poets society meeting- never mind that i still haven't mustered up the courage to read something out in the first place, haha.

[deadpoetperry]

…My father found out that I’m in the play and told me to quit. Opening night is tomorrow, I can’t quit now! Ugh. I don’t know what to do.

[king-charlie-the-rizzler]

“Can you stop bouncing your knee?? Its distracting.” Cameron, you motherfucker, its either this or I start screaming and breaking shit.

[r-cameron-tradition]

I'm FRUSTRATED.

[ask-captain-keating]

Students, poets, lads, etc.,

I will be sharing your next assignment here, and will share prompts intermittently to encourage writing out of the classroom. This is not required, but extra points will be added to the grade of whoever chooses to participate.

Your prompt for this first assignment is to write a poem or adjacent piece of writing about/ for your favorite person. This doesn't have to be about a fellow classmate, student, or even a human, just someone that you love more than anyone else. It is not imperative that you reveal who the subject of your work is, but if you feel it's important to the piece, please do so!

If you need a point of inspiration or an example to reference if you're stuck, I've provided a poem I wrote not too long ago. You can do something similar, or something wildly different, whatever feels right to you.

Everything Sings

Earl gray graces the sleep-filled soul,

joined by the echoes of a kettle's sweetly strung note,

and the familiar pang of the carillon's morning hymnals.

Myths of Genesis's flood remain reminiscent of a choir I know well,

this ark of Noah's reduced to a mere vessel for God and His ballads I dedicated to you.

John Charles Keating

Good luck boys, I look forward to seeing what you all create.

Best,

Mr Keating

PS. Those of you who are not students of mine are more than welcome to participate!

@first-unmanned-flying-desk-set @social-anxiety-and-poetry @phonecall-fromgod @radiofree-america @pittsie-boy @knoxious-overstreet @therealrichardcameron @head-of-the-dinner-table

[berryberrytaeberry]

Wei Wuxian *entering Cloud Recesses*: yOu wOuLdN't LaSt aN hOuR iN tHe AsYluM wHeRe ThEy rAiSeD mE

Lan Zhan: You were here for only a few months

...

Lan Zhan: And I've lived here my whole life what do you mean--

Lan Zhan: And wouldn't that lyric be more fitting at the burial mounds???

Wei Wuxian: WHOS AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD MEEEEE

[puckster-perry]

Please don’t tell me to stop talking about my bf Todd. I literally have nothing else except musicals, plays, and my mental health issues if I can’t do that PLEASE LET ME CONSTANTLY TALK ABOUT TODD FREDERICK ANDERSON WHO IS MY BF BC I LOVE HIM AND HE’S MY BF AND HE HAS THE PRETTIEST BLUE EYES AND THE CUTEST SMILE AND THE MOST ADORABLE LAUGH PLEEEEASE NOOOOO-

[sweaty-toothed-poet]

Guys I’m thinking of writing Neil a poem for Valentines Day, should I?

[pinnesasong]

you n cam are kinda... 🤨🏳️‍🌈... what do yu have to say about that

My dearest anon,

You misunderstand, my darling tartiflette. Please do let me clarify this deal for you. Richie is just a dear friend, nothing more! Really, that guy—Yes, he makes my blood boil on certain occasions. I mean, don't he think that I can see how he can be so blasé towards me nowadays... ME! How could anyone?! I'm universally adored and loved by many! But, to continue—Yes, he can be stubborn, and hard-headed, and mulish, and obstinate! And, yes to the thought that he can also turn me into teenage boy étuvée when he opens that mouth of his, that doesn't seem to know basic pleasantry and diplomatic speech, but that's friendship! I'll have you know that I am very grateful for all his aid and assistance to me regarding our maths homework and activities. He gives balance to our group; I'm sure the group has been saved from one or two times from being totally fucked with that big brain of his. He is an indelible cog in the machine that is the Dead Poets, and I believe that I speak for everyone when I say that he is a very DEAR friend to ALL of us. Nothing less than that. Teehee, did you know that he loves cake? I find that a little bit endearing, just a little.

[sweaty-toothedpoet]

does anyone know where neil is?? i need to talk to him, i need to tell him

[deadpoetperry]

I’m trying to prepare for this upcoming audition, but I’m still not over what happened the first time when my father got involved.

…This might be harder to do than I thought.

[king-charlie-the-rizzler]

Guys me and Ginny had our first argument and she told me I wear my berets like a lesbian don’t talk to me please

[r-cameron-tradition]

I can't believe I let Pitts win like that, just because of Neil. I hate these people, agh.

[eddie-allan-poe]

If Charlie ever tells you that one time while we were hanging out in the town last weekend I saw this cute girl and walked over to flirt with her and ended up tripping on my shoelaces and fell flat on my face in front of her that is a fucking lie don't listen to him