#poetry is sexy

[wintersnwnderlnd]

Hot and Bothered

Max Goof x Reader (implied), PJ x Reader (referenced)

Bodies moved to the beat of the music of the club. Lights flashing slightly with the beat, setting an upbeat mood. The sound of laughter glided through the air as I looked around the room, spotting Max and the guys sitting at a table off to the side.

Waving, I made my way through the crowd, sliding in beside Max.

"Hey guys. Did you already order?" Just as the words left my mouth, a waitress stopped by to drop off an order of nachos, "Never mind,". Bobby laughed, digging into the chips as Max wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"How are you, today y/n?" Max questioned, leaning down breath warm on my ear causing it to twitch. I smiled up at him, reaching of a chip.

"I'm good, Max." I notice Bobby getting up from the table, chasing after a familiar girl in a beret, "Hey, check out Bobby.". We laughed slightly as she turned away from him.

"Hey, you wanna sit with us?" Max called out, saving Bobby from embarrassing himself.

She smirked, coming over, glancing over us all, "Your cool balances out his fool." She snapped, emphasizing her words causing me to snicker into Max's shoulder quietly. Bobby shot me a look of fake hurt causing my snickers to deepen as she took a seat beside PJ. "Well, if it's all the same... I, uh... I forgot your name."

PJ cleared his throat, moving to rest his elbows on the table, "It is endemic of the current culture that these with large stature are overlooked, except by vultures, with no regard to the depth to their souls, the height of their passion, the beauty of their moments."

Max, Bobby and I stared at him in shock, not expecting those words to leave the usually funny and casual guy's mouth. I shivered slightly, leaning into Max's side, swallowing hard. Her smirk grew as she leaned towards him, "O wise Buddha Boy, could anyone overlook such a bundle of "yes-ness"?" She paused for effect before holding out a hand, "Let's dance.". The two got up, moving towards the dance floor.

"W-well fuck." I stammered, shifting in my seat a little, adjusting my skirt. I cleared my throat missing Bobby's smirk as he glance at me.

Max looked down at me in amusement, "Seriously, that does it for you?".

A flush grew on my cheeks as he and Bobby laughed softly, smacking his arm, "You know I like poetry. Don't judge me, otherwise I'll bring up your degradation kink.".

Bobby snorted, coughing slightly as he inhaled a chip.

"Y/n!" Max whined, pulling me against his side. We all laughed, watching as the music and lights changed, a smooth disco beat filling the air.

[ajabeech]

Thanks to everyone that joined the stream this morning. I'll be reading poetry in my yard at 5pm est today! It's gonna be a scorcher. Comment or DM any poems you may want to hear read.

Can't wait! ☀️🧸 👙

[tiana-martinez]

[doortotomorrow]

cooper howard - the head

[tiana-martinez]

[sadieslimes-blog]

POV: I'm your trans girlfriend and I'm disappointed you haven't taken your pants off yet, will you?

[fixing-bad-posts]

trans men can be real sexy also if you're a trans man that's trans

Submitted by @fionacle

[namedvesta]

[poeticintelligence]

Erotic essence. Like a homoerotic poem @PoeticIntelligence

[filmythingss]

how can i be so cruel to myself when i'm doing the best i can!!

- unknown

[shallowseeker]

Dean, who sometimes fantasized about being admired, about getting real meaningful attention, like how in Tall Tales he romanticized a love interest saying: “looking at you is like staring into the sun”

God I mean

no one talks like that outside of cheap romance novels probably but but but—

If Cas did get flowery

if he did happen to break out the poetry

Or words like beautiful

Dean would’ve never recovered

[tiana-martinez]

Let me be ya Lock Screen

[girlw-amermaidtattoo]

Soft as a whisper, they glide on the skin,

Nylons weaving secrets where touch begins.

A delicate shimmer, like moonlight on lace,

Wrapping my legs in a silken embrace.

The slow, gentle pull, a tease of desire,

Each thread ignites like a smoldering fire.

They stretch, they cling, they promise and tease,

With every caress, I fall to my knees.

Beneath their sheen, fantasies unfold,

A dance between boldness and a story untold.

Tantalizing and soft, they hug me so tight—

Nylons, my lover, in the glow of the night.

[osamucide]

I dunno if we're still lusting over Akutagawa but I just wanna say that that the idea of him being turned on by gore in horror movies made all the blood leave my brain immediately because I've been having these fantasies about reciting him some disturbing ass poems about, fkn cannibalism or something, whilst jerking him off

um we are ALWAYS lusting over Akutagawa in this house. see below the cut for real lit nerd shit. cw here—handjob, sub!Aku, John Donne himself is a content warning, mdni

This made me think of Donne’s "The Flea"—if you’ve not read it, basically it uses intermixed blood inside a flea as an extended metaphor for sex and it kind of has no business being so fucking hot for how strange it is (quoted below is the last stanza). And I think Akutagawa, in the limited swath of earthly things he indulges in outside of Dazai's approval, fucks with ANY kind of deranged media, not just movies; his beloved touching him while they recite weird poetry? Oh my god. Your mind is huge, anon. Listen—

"Cruel and sudden, hast thou since purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?" you sigh, voice slow, deliberate, hardly above a whisper; you pinch the spine of the leather-bound anthology, balancing it against one of his trembling shoulders as you straddle his waist, sinking your teeth into the milky skin beneath the severity of Ryuunosuke's jawline. "Wherein could this flea guilty be, except in that drop which it sucked from thee?"

Your other hand strokes him, softly, agonizingly; Ryuunosuke's breath is short, rhythmic, quietly frustrated between his chest and his throat as he tugs at the rope binding his wrists behind his back, his fingers flexing wide, curling into fists. When you squeeze just beneath his leaking tip and work your way down his cock, his forehead falls into your shoulder, where he returns your bite through a pitchy groan.

"Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou... Find'st not thy self, nor me the weaker now." You, calculated, roll your wrist faster; his stifled groan gives way to a gasp, an open-mouthed plea for you to continue, and he twitches, hips lurching upward in pursuit of more of your touch. "'Tis true; then learn how false, fears be—"

"Please," Ryuunosuke's voice weaves through yours, desperate and broken amidst cries of your name. "My love, please."

"Just so much honor, when thou yield'st to me," you continue, pausing only to lick across the chain of bruising kisses you've left upon his neck. Pink and needy and twitching like the rest of him, his cock stutters, jumps as pearly white ropes of cum are spurting from him, hitting his pale chest and stomach, dripping over your fingers. You mutter the last line as he sobs, thanking you in breaths so shaky and hoarse and spent that you can't help your satisfied smile; "Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee." ⊹

this ask also made me think of a dissertation I read in my undergrad and it’s called "Raw Metaphors: Cannibal Poetics in Early Modern England" by Amanda Lehr. it’s wonderful and if you’re a cannibalism-in-poetry freak like me DEFINITELY check it out. it's lengthy but so worth the read.