#this is my favourite poem i have ever written

[t4tstarvingdog]

AND THEN I CONSIDER THE DELIGHTFUL ANDROGYNY OF THE RODEO — timothy l.l.s.h.

because transsexual desire exists in rural towns just the same as cities, and because we love our roots just as much as our queerness.

may be easier to read if you click on the image :)

my poetry tag list (ask to be added or removed<3): @gracekisses @callcenterkilljoy @icantleave @hauntedpearl @chaosnatural @raytoroinmybackpack @carveredlund @pinknatural @deanwinchestersfloralwallpaper @obsessionofspn @destielgaysex @faithdeans @heartshapedcas @howldean @redwinesupernova @cosmosinfinity23 @impala67-aka-baby @samsrowena @aturnoftheearth @themichaelvan @casbeeminestiel @notreallyaroad @littlebitofdiaz @frogstiel @magdaclaire @babyheller @hellergregoryhouse @saintedcastiel @mayfieldarc @how-the-feathers-have-fallen @cmonprovolone @punishercd @raspberryfemme @patchesofwork @wolfinmyribcage

image description underneath the keep reading

[Image Description: a poem that reads

Well, lookit those lovely chick-a-dees, a-meanderin’ and amblin’ and Ignorin’ the Sun shining mightily in their eyes when they’re unlucky, And soaking tan with a red-underbelly into Their neck and shoulders when Lady Luck loves them once more.

My! What a sight, what a thing to love! These young birds take their fistfuls of cash and wads of green  And scramble their way up dusty-side just to reach glory. Oh heavens, the glory of a soda fountain when you have a sweat-soaked Ten-dollar clutched in all ten fingers, the glory of pointin’ With dirt under your fingernails At the largest size they have displayed, and sayin’ your please and thank you ma’am’s In the softest voice you got ‘cause your mouth is already Waterin’ something awful at the anticipation of the cool, fizzy drink.

Don’t guzzle it now, sweet things! Wait for that blessed relief-giving condensation to Settle along the sides of your plastic cup, little pearls, little water-snails Racing down to plop themselves bodily to The boot-ground dust of the Earth. Let them swell their little round shells and then quick! Gather Them up in one swiping palm, one heaving hand,  And smear that dripping prize across your salt-flecked forehead; Let its rivulets tumble over your brow and into your eyes, and Squint against the salt-sting of foreign tears caught In your thick calf-lashes.

Oh, pretty little darlings, have you tasted it? The sugar and dye, sweet-soft and fizzling in your stained mouths, Headaches already beginning to worm low and aching behind Your squinting eyes. Have you memorized the shuffle-step it takes you to alight on your stadium seat? Look away from the water truck soaking the ring, Tear your eyes from the rainbow rising with the dust,  With the water vapor,  With the murmur of your dozen, dozen voices. Playfight ball-caps versus cowboy hats and add a point for each fancy belt buckle, Count the church-worthy button-ups and remember that Everyone has different places  To worship.

And ah, what fat luck, arriving early enough to pick your seats when The stands are still so empty! Take the chance you have to feast yourselves on watching people stream in; Drink them down, the tired-eyed mothers, forehead-wrinkled fathers, Satiate yourselves on numbering the children wandering listless and over-excited around you, And carefully avoid looking too long at The young people with their soft-slender hands and hand-me-down boots,  Their pink-open mouths, flashing teeth as they talk, sweat, swallow down lemonade. As they speak in voices that don’t lend themselves To being masculine or feminine, too caught up in the fat enjoyment of Being young and  Alive.

You’re starving yourself, dear things, by choking down the desire while you Suck down the saccharine corn-syrup molecules just the same. Go ahead, grow into your own shoulders and make eye contact with warm brown and rosy red, Tilt the brim of your hat and let the actor in you embody it as full confidence and Not half-shame. When you shrug beneath the bleachers all too-long legs and too-hunched back,  Let yourself taste the tart lemonade on their lips and ask them to call you something softer  Than the name your daddy gave you. Let them place broad palm on the goose-flesh of the skin of your ribcage, Let yourself be taller than them and let them treat you porcelain-fragile anyways.

Say it with me now, The thunder above your heads is not Sodom and Gomorrah, it is a thousand feet, A thousand hands, A thousand writhing bodies stomping and hollering for  The best bareback bronco score so far tonight, and no one cares that you are missing. No one cares that you have found your existence In the arms of a sexless young thing just like yourself, surrounded by cigarette butts And a handful of discarded and crushed Bud Lite cans and Dust that just won’t die.

What’s the name of your soul, sweethearts? What do you hide away when you’re where the people can see you? The knees of your lightwash jeans are dirty when you crawl back into the world. The cheers of the crowd have gotten just a little less sharp in your ears. You share a drop of your soda with a puddle of gnats and scream for the Oklahoman rider, And no one looks twice At the shape of your hands and jaw.

When the Sun sets in your eyes tonight, you’re too busy putting Your two fingers to your lips and whistling louder than a trainhorn’s shriek To care that your drink has gone flat and Lukewarm.

—timothy l.l.s.h.

/end description.]

[im-an-anthusiast]

For Once

I can say, for once – for what my heart hunts 

Let me write, for once – about things ideal 

Let me show, for once – what it is I feel 

I can say, for once – what I meant for months 

I can’t believe that – we’ve only just met 

You make me love that – for which I don’t live 

You make me trust that – which I don’t believe 

I can’t believe that – this, I’ve never felt 

Get it off my chest – the love I’ve amassed 

I am not obsessed – with you anymore 

I am not obsessed – still, I love you so 

Get it off my chest – the love we detest 

I do my best to – be worthy of you 

And all that I do – you accompany 

And all that you do – all thrills, so many 

I do my best to – love and cherish you 

I want, so badly – to hold you gently 

I love, how sadly – from pleasure I flinch 

I love, so madly – of you, every inch 

I want, so badly – to kiss you madly 

I want, so badly – to kiss you gently 

I love, so madly – I love all things yours 

I love, how sadly – I can’t not be yours 

I want, so badly – to hold you madly 

I do my best to – always comfort you 

And all that you do – makes me love you more 

And all that I do – you are who it’s for 

I do my best to – be cherished by you 

Get it off my chest – the love without rest 

I am not obsessed – still, you’re far too sweet 

I am not obsessed – still, I act like it 

Get it off my chest – the love I’ve confessed 

I can’t believe that – this, I’ve just now felt 

You make me trust that – which I never would 

You make me love that – which I really should 

I can’t believe that – this late, we have met 

I can say, for once – I’ve loved you for months 

Let me show, for once – how happy I am 

Let me write, for once – a happy poem 

I can say, for once – what all of me wants 

[annieisyourfavourite]

"To the self I used to hate" - Annie Jankovic, 2022

(Image has alt text)

[just-a-little-bit-of-sugar]

Existentially dissociates for like 20 minutes doing Stupid Thoughts Math and then commits escapism via fanfic 🫡 just a regular Thursday 11pm

[frankensteinmutual]

Sorry to bother you, but dude. You're so fucking cool. Would you consider sharing your top three favorite books (and why, if you feel like it)? Your aesthetic and taste in media is so fucking *it*

Thank you :)

you're not bothering me at all! in fact you just made me smile like an idiot, so thank you 🫀

I think picking a top three is almost impossible for me, but I can do a top 5:

1. we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson

this is my favourite book of all time. nothing else has ever made me feel like reading this book did. the prose is so beautiful in its raw simplicity, a childish fantasy stated so matter-of-factly you have no choice but to let go of any sense of reason that might prevent you form feeling the words as having sprung from your own mind the instant you are reading them, and the narrator's intimate inner monologue draws you in so magnetically into her enchantingly morbid world of twisted logic and sympathetic magic – it's the sweetest nightmare you never want to wake up from.

2. house of leaves by mark z. danielewski

what is there still to say about house of leaves? it's as good as everyone says it is. I fought for my relationship with this book – we did not get along at all for quite a while – and it was worth it. I think it might have actually made it even better in the end. i feel like this book knows me somehow, like we have a reciprocal relationship with each other in which we are both active parties. I don't think any other work of art has ever given me that. it's the proverbial abyss staring back into you, luring you into its depths and never letting you go again.

3. autobiography of red by anne carson

autobiography of red is a verse novel, so you could think of it as one big poem, and it's beautifully written. the blurring and blending of myth and reality and continuous shifting of fiction and recollection, impression and perception sweeps you up into a tale both ancient and timeless, tragic and hopeful, about a boy who is a monster, or maybe a giant, with three bodies or maybe six hands, a shepherd or a dragon, a son with a red red heart. also, it's gay.

4. piranesi by susanna clarke

piranesi is a bit as if the house from house of leaves cared for you and was also built by plato. it kind of sneaks up on you gently, dangerously but never with malicious intent. it wants to lead you to a place inside yourself that you've never been to or maybe have just forgotten, and uncover what lies in wait there. most of it is love.

5. frankenstein by mary shelley

and for the last one, a classic. I kind of put off reading this for a long time, because I wanted to like it so badly and was very scared I wouldn't, or at least not to a degree that would satisfy, as is unfortunately often the case for me with these kinds of "important" things. but I was so pleasantly surprised. it wasn't hard to get into or inaccessible at all, it didn't bore or alienate me, on the contrary. it touched me so deeply and unexpectedly I didn't stop thinking about it for quite a while. it truly deserves its status in my eyes.

also because I couldn't resist, a visual representation of nine of my favourite books:

I hope you will find something worth your while in at least one of them!

[nipuni]

AAAAH Today was such a great day!!! It rained so the temperature dropped and we went on a morning walk and saw the first rainbow we've seen in years then back home for lunch and we watched the last DW confidential from Ten's era with an emotional recap of all our favourite seasons, then we got an invitation to an inauguration event later this week, then I checked my inbox to find a whole poem written about my characters that I'll share in a minute that is absolutely incredible and I'm still losing my mind over, then we went out again to have some coffee in the park at sunset and feed the ducks at the lake and then come back home to see that Dragon Age article spoiling the whole starting premise of the game and turns out it's exactly what I've been hoping for and more ever since I finished Inquisition a million years ago and never thought we would get and also see that David Tennant has been cast in a new film. 😭 whehhah?

[shoyoist]

ﾟ+* ꔫ — 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒 + 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 !!

content: gn!reader. sfw — fluff. slightly suggestive in shidou's part. featuring: bachira meguru, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser. some of these hcs were suggested to me by other tumblr users! they are credited separately under each part<3

— . ｡˚ ♡ he thinks of these special moments whenever he's feeling down, and it helps him get right back up.

° 𐐒𐐚 . bachira meguru + painting date!

credit to @katasstrophy for the idea! the bachira family has a little art studio built in their house, owned by bachira's mom. he takes you there one time, and though you'd been doing your best to keep things clean for his mother's sake, the two of you end up making a huge mess.

you're intently dabbing brown and yellow paint on your little canvas, looking back at the mental image you've conjured of your boyfriend sitting in a field of flowers and smiling at you, when you hear shuffling behind you.

"baby, baby," is all bachira says in warning. "look this way!" and you turn around, wide-eyed and inquiring as you finally look away from the canvas on which you've been meticulously painting a picture of your rogueishly adorable boyfriend—

only to be met with a splat of bright pink paint across your face. "m—meguru? what the hell?" it's on your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth that had been open in question to bachira's urgent request for you to turn around, and it's nearly in your eye. "god i could've eaten that shit!"

the sound of bachira's unapologetic giggling fills the quiet studio as you get up and pluck a wad of tissues from the box on the table nearby, wiping your face off with it. while your back is turned, he flicks his paint-sopped brush at you again, and you feel the paint hit the back of your neck. "don't do that!"

you stand up straight and turn your back to your easel, squaring your shoulders and doing your best to protect the painting.

"it's—" bachira's laughing so hard now, he snorts in between his words. "it's even worse now, baby — it's all over your face!" and you know that. because you can feel the paint smear down to your chin as you wipe. oh, you think, he's so fucking cute right now, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkly as he giggles.

but that's not going to stop you from retaliating. meguru, you're about to get it.

his mother chewed him out and made him clean the place up afterwards, but bachira would do it again and again and again, just to see your pretty smile and hear your pretty laugh, your eyes lit up as you tried to stay angry with him while the two of you made a mess of yourselves and the studio once more.

° 𐐒𐐚 . hyoma chigiri + poetry analysis date!

credit to @yakshasslut for the idea! chigiri gives you a book of his favourite love poems to read while he's away, and by the time he comes back home, you're brimming with tender feelings for him and he flusters so sweetly when you express it. ever since, it's been a tradition to share and mull over novels and poems together.

not many of chigiri's friends or teammates are well-versed in poetry or literature in general, but there is one novel of prose that each and every one of them can name and recognize within an instant — and it's a book that you gave your boyfriend as a gift, years ago.

it doesn't have much of you in it — it's a collection of poems that express the joys and pains of long distance love, and the only hint of you in it is the lipstick kiss on the front page, with a "for hyoma, my one and only<3" written on it in your handwriting.

he takes it everywhere. flicks through the pages while he's on the plane, while he's resting in his hotel room, and sometimes even takes it with him to games.

he takes so much care to keep it safe and in good condition, but it's quite worn now— he can't bring himself to shelf it, though. it's his most prized posession, almost.

he reads it and keeps in mind that while he's away, you're reading the new book that he had gifted you before he left, and he smiles to himself, imagining how you underline and draw hearts around your favourite lines and write little pencil notes about how "this is you @ me!"

don't get it wrong, chigiri loves being on the field. he loves the glamour, the adrenaline, the fire of scoring a goal — but at his heart, he's soft. domestic.

he hopes fondly for the day he'll get to lay in bed with you again (he's only going to be away for two weeks. but it feels like two months, or even years, sometimes) and have a cozy little date where you just sip on warm coffee and share sweet cakes while mulling over poems together.

it's comforting. it's home.

he thinks about the worn book of poems that sits on your shelf, back at your place. the one he gave you.

the one you read all the time, leaving new annotations bookmarked for him to find each time he picks the book up for a read.

if he ever actually tired of football, chigiri thinks he might just become a poet. for you.

° 𐐒𐐚 . mikage reo + picnic date at the beach!

credit to anonymous! reo is a rich man, and he's so used to fancy dinner dates, luxury trips, first class service, all that. so when you take him on a cute little beach date, getting him to help you cut sandwiches and bake brownies and cookies earlier in the day, it was a new experience for him. and he loves it.

“reo, what about here?” you ask, turning around to look at him as you hop in your cute little sandals on the sand. he's carrying the picnic basket and you have the blanket folded under your arms — and he's been following you across the pretty beach for about fifteen minutes now.

though you ask him if he likes the spot, he knows from the look in your eyes that you actually like this place, and it's nice! the sand is soft and there's not a lot of rocks or seaweed under foot, the shore is a short walk away, and the sunset spills so pretty onto your skin and into your eyes.

he's almost lost in the sight — but when you call his name again, sounding a little concerned as you ask, “reo? you okay?” he snaps out of it and gives you one of his signature, wide and adorable grins. “yeah! here is fine, baby.”

he doesn't know but even his eyes are lit up, the violet of them beautiful and tinted gold in the light of the setting sun, and you can't help but cup his face and kiss him as he puts the basket down and sits on the blanket beside you.

“isn't this fun?” you giggle against his lips, and he hums in agreement, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss. the evening has just started, but he already knows that he'll remember this moment fondly, forever. “mhm, it is fun.”

“you sure?” you ask, tracing his cheek with your thumb, and it's almost a softer, warmer feeling than that of the sun kissing his face. “it's not your usual scene, i know. we can always go to a—”

”no,” reo cuts you off, taking your hand. the smile he gives you is prettier, brighter than any he's ever given you before. it takes your breath away. “it's not my usual scene, yeah.” he chuckles. “in fact, i've never had a picnic on the beach in my life until now. but it's... nice. i love it.”

he says it so softly, and it's rare, coming from your bubbly, bright and ever-so-forward lover. and that's how you know he's telling you the truth.

“alright then.” you kiss his cheek, pulling away and sitting back, dragging the basket closer so you can take the food out. it's just a little kiss, the same as any other kiss you've given his cheek — but somehow, it holds a different sort of warmth, and it comforts him. makes him feel so softly, gently beloved.

and he swears he'll hold this warmth to his cheek, to his chest, to his heart — forever.

° 𐐒𐐚 . michael kaiser + homemade spa date!

credit to anonymous! off days with kaiser are the nicest spent indoors. you go on outdoor dates (and on dates overseas) so often, that it's a nice change to stay at home once in a while and spend some sweet, domestic time with him instead.

“mikka,” your tone is scolding as you cradle his face in your palms, stopping him from wiggling around as you try to stay balanced in his lap. “can you stop moving? the serum is getting in your hair!”

kaiser laughs, the lift of his lips making him look all the more prettier, and hence all the more fucking distracting, as you try to wipe the residual bits of the face mask you'd just peeled off your boyfriend's face, replacing the thick, opaque cleanser with softly translucent moisturizer.

he taps your palmful of moisturizer with an index finger, and with a quick move of the digit he swipes the blob on your nose, making you flinch back and blink in surprise.

“mikka!”

ah, there it is. mission successful. kaiser almost wishes he could go to sleep forever and in his dreams, listen to you calling him by that sweet little petname for the rest of his life. almost.

because he wishes more than that to kiss you all the time. like right now. he leans forward, the smile stretching his mouth giving away his intention to you, but not in time for you to escape. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, kissing you with soft, sweet and swollen lips that you'd just finished exfoliating with sugar and honey.

“baby,” your eyebrows furrow, but you still kiss him back and it makes him chuckle because oh, for all the fuss you make and all the scowling you do, you love him so. “we'll never get to the manipedi by movie time at this rate.”

“movie time can wait, princess,” he sighs against your lips. “all i want right now is to watch you, anyway.”

and his words are romantic, suggestive, and they'd bring a blush to your cheeks for sure — if he hadn't accidentally tipped you off balance in that second.

“mikka!—” you yelp (to his delight) as he grabs you and tries to steady you — but even as he saves you, your hand reflexively flails upwards to curl around his arm for support.

and with a smack, the moisturizer is all over his bicep instead of lathered evenly across his face as it should be.

the upset on your face is apparent, but kaiser only grins expectantly as he grips your waist, adjusts your position in his lap again, waiting.

and you don't disappoint. “look what you've done! mikka!”

[annasfantasies]

Dates with Alex Turner

/alex turner x fem!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Credits to whoever took this photos

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Pairing: Alex Turner x fem!reader

Summery: my thoughts about what is Alex like on dates

Warnings: fluff, mention of teasing, my English, short

Word count: 356

ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

-He definitely takes you out for at least once a week

-restaurants, picnics, bookshoping dates, strawberry picking, walking in park

-‘going to concerts of your favourite bands and singers together’ kind of date

-He gives you flowers every single time

-He Gets inspired by you and writes his ideas into his old small brown notebook that he takes everywhere with him

-you take your camera with you to take photos of him and him stealing it from you to take photos of you

-a lot of sweet kisses - on your cheeks, nose, forehead, the crown of your head, jaw, the back of your hand

-if you’re having picnic he is definitely laying on your thighs and kissing them + if you’re wearing knee socks then is is definitely playing with them

-he stares at you a lot, doesn’t even look away when you catch him

-says “I love you” a lot and when I mean a lot I mean A. LOT.

-when you guys are walking he is either holding your hand or have his arm around your shoulders or waist or you are holding onto his arm

-a lot of sweet nothings whispered into your ears

-gives you small presents - Pandora bracelet and the pendants, necklaces (with his initial of course), books, bookmarks, love letters, short poems about you, keychain, rings, photos is you tee with something sweet written on the back of it, something like “I love you, my love” “to my beautiful girl/wife”

-makes sure he compliments you

-if you’re sitting next to him his arm is either around your shoulders, waist or he is holding your thigh or hand, whatever makes you comfortable

-flirts with you so much that you’re blushing all the time, he loves seeing you so shy

-teases you just as much

-cracks jokes just to see you smile and hear you laugh

-loves it when you flirt with him too, his cheeks are always painted in light pink

-when you’re walking he randomly stops you, grabs your cheeks and presses the most loving kiss ever onto your lips

-glares at anyone who even tries to check you out

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

A/N: hey guysss💗 wanted to thank you all for the love you showed to my previous posts, I really appreciate🫶🫶 if you find and mistake please let me know‼️

[lavandulawrites]

Hey can I get letters C, I, & O for Poe (bsd) 

Yandere Alphabet C, I and O with Edgar Allen Poe

Poe is one of my favourite characters so this was really fun to write<3 I think Poe is one of the “softer” yanderes, but he definitely can be really unsettling. (Yandere alphabet request here)

Masterlist

Word count: 479

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Once Poe abducts you he treats you like a princess. You have your own big bedroom decorated to your tastes. At first it frightened you how everything in you bedroom were exactly how you liked it. He even had gotten his hands on one of your childhood plushies. How he did get his hands on it, you would rather not know. Ignorance is bliss after all. In one of the antique chest of drawers, you found a deep purple leather bound album filled of photos of you. Some were old and some were recent. Underneath each picture Poe had written in his beautiful handwriting, either poems that described the picture or compliments. Poe would never mock you. He wished for you to love him after all. Nights were sadness consumed you, he sat by your bedside comforting you. With his slender hands he stroked away your tears and rubbed your back gently.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Poe wishes for you to love him back. Somewhere in the future he wants to marry you. That had been his dream since he first laid his eyes on you. He can’t wait for when the time is right to go down on one knee and ask if you want to spend eternity with him. Of course saying no is not an option, but he assures you that he would treat you like a queen. His love knows no bounds after all.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You would not be allowed to leave his manor, but rest assured the beautiful gardens as well as the interior is enough for you to forget about what you call freedom. He lets you play with. Karl as much as you want and his heart warms at the sight of you two together. Poe has a grand library filled with more books than you ever hope to read. He lets you roam freely inside the library, he knows all to well what excitement literature brings so he won’t restrict your access to literature. The same can’t be said about the internet. You are not allowed to keep your phone or other electronics that can be used to contact the outside world. He will however let you use the computer with him by your side if you wish to play some games that are non online. You have free access to the television and his various streaming services. He knows all to well what damage an under stimulated brain can do. He will take you out on different outings. He particularly enjoys taking you to luxurious restaurants and cozy bookstores. He loves to spend his money on you and spoils you rotten. It’s what you deserve after all.

[literaryvein]

A WRITING PROJECT: The Book of Strangers (pt. 1) is now available

A month ago, a phantom weight decided to make a home in my heart. For some reason, even writing couldn’t heal me this time around, so I asked strangers to tell me their story and I promised them a poetry/prose piece in return.

The concept of this writing collection involves a tea room. It involves strangers; another universe. Perhaps in this life, we won’t ever meet. But in another universe, we meet at the tea room where we aren’t strangers. You tell me your story as I make you a cup of tea. In this universe, I handweave poems and prose pieces using threads of your stories. In this universe, these written pieces are cups of tea I offer to you as my thanks for sharing your stories with me. I hope they help lift the phantom weight in your heart, even for just a moment.

A sincere thanks to everyone who contributed to this project. I have sent the link to you as well as those who have previously requested for it. If anyone else wants to read it, Send Me A Message. I will send you the link if: (i) you are following this blog; (ii) let me know what you think after reading it; and (iii) do NOT know me personally.

Also, if you sent your story anonymously, message me where I can send you the link.

I am currently working on Part 2, for those who submitted after the initial deadline. Submissions are open again for anyone else who would like to tell me their story in exchange for a poem/prose piece. Deadline for the second part is 17 May 2024. Tell me your story, dear strangers.

Tell me about the happiest version of yourself, your heartbreaks, the person you can’t stop thinking about, the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen, the day you realised you were right where you wanted to be, that moment in your life that you keep going back to in your head. Tell me about how it plays on a loop. About how you keep interpreting, reinterpreting, and misinterpreting all the things he said. About how you keep remembering and misremembering how she looked like in her favourite spring dress. Tell me what’s on your mind; what’s in your heart. The things you cannot tell anyone else. Tell me the things you desperately want to forget, but can’t.

- L. V., also a stranger confessing to strangers

[Photo: jeune fille à la tasse (girl with cup) by Léon François Comerre]

[soracities]

I just saw an ask about a poem with cinnamon in it and just felt this need to mention one of my favourite poems ever! It's called "cinnamon and cloves" and was written originally in polish by Tomasz Różycki. I know the poetry book this poem features in got translated to English (it's called Colonies) but sadly I wasn't able to find the english translation of the poem online, otherwise I would have sent it to you so Anon could read it. But hey, maybe you or they are better at googling poems and find it somehow - if you are interested, that is. Sorry, just got really excited about the chance to mention one of my beloved poems <3

i found it here and am absolutely adding this collection to my list of books to read, thank you so much anon <3

[wehangout]

So, the amazing Calli @callivich came up with this beautiful idea for DVD commentary, fic style, and the amazing questions that go with it. As suggested, I'll be indulging myself while talking about:

Thicker Than Forget. Summary: He blinks at you. “What was your first name?” “Erato.” “Erato,” he repeats. “No need to roll the r.” “Like the muse?” You grin. “Poet, meet muse."

AU. Ian is a poet. Mickey is his recently-corporal muse. They eat an absurd amount of stupidly named ice cream, try to find beauty in things, and fall hopelessly in love.

This was fun! Let me know if you want commentary on any other fics!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

So, I wrote this for the Shameless Big Bang in 2021. I couldn’t tell you how long it took me to write (Word is giving me conflicting info), but it was probably my easiest write to date. Word count sits at 30-ish thousand words.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

It was initially inspired by a novel. I don’t remember which one, but it was either Lament or Ballad by Maggie Stiefvater. The only similarity between that one and mine is that a character falls in love with their muse. The plot itself is very different.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

Mickey. Because it’s almost always Mickey lmao. I did try from Ian’s, but this had to be from the muse’s POV and Mickey had to be the muse.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The smut 👀 if you’ve read it, I hope you understand why lmao

How did you come up with the title?

From the poem, Love is Thicker Than Forget! It fits so well with Ian being a poet and the overall theme of the story.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I went a little meta on fanfic, fandom, and shipping in this, which was so fun. I think only one person seemed to really notice and mention it, though, haha.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I didn’t struggle to write it, but figuring out how to end it was tough. It took a long time for me to figure that out. When I originally came up with the idea it was for an original story, and did not have a happy ending.

Favourite line in the story?

I’m gonna go with lines, plural, because I have a couple

He kisses you and he kisses you and oh. Oh. This is what they were writing about. All the poets, every word of creativity they took from you … it’s this.

He closes his eyes and continues to sigh sonnets into your skin

Also, the last two lines of dialogue, and, I mean, “Fuck the connection” has to be right up there.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

The writing, actually. I’m not a poetic person, none of the poems in the fic are mine, but I’m pretty proud of the poetic nature of the writing.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

So, this is the fic that made me realise I needed to stop taking things so seriously lmao. @captainjowl can attest to the research I tend to do. In this case, every ice cream name was a legit flavour at the time, taken from a Baskin-Robbins website. The mural exists. The flowers and trees in the botanic gardens are flowers and trees found in that exact botanic garden. The hoodie! Taken straight from the Brooklyn Zoo website. The pasta they eat at the North Pond – I used Google Maps to make sure there was an Italian restaurant nearby and looked up ponds in Lincoln Park.

I've since tried to be more chill. Sometimes I fail.

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I’d make it longer, if possible.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

It’s a nice idea, because I’d love to write something pretty again, but I have zero inspiration for it.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

Uh, if you’ve read this and Suncatcher you might notice that I, like Ian and Sandy, have a thing for The Doors.

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

I don’t know if this is my most popular story, but I was definitely surprised by the intensity of the comments I received. It was one time when I knew I’d written something good, but the way it made other people feel definitely took me by surprise.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

I love that this was loved. I still go back and read it every now and then and just sigh.

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [46]

chapter forty-six, act six: be my mistake

masterlist

December 25th 2017

It takes Tommie forty minutes to stop staring at the front door as if he’s going to walk right back through. When she finally does leave the hallway her gaze settles onto the wrapped gift still untouched. 

She’s sitting criss crossed under her green Christmas tree with Button on one side and Allen the other.

The wrapping paper has little dinosaurs wearing cowboy hats, which upon further inspection she realises have been drawn on by hand. She tears it open, then folds it neatly and places it to her side. Her eyes tear up, her thumb traces the leather. 

It’s her book. 

Her lyric book she thought lost forever sits right there in her hands with a blue post it note on top.

‘ Don’t worry, I didn’t punch him, Ross did (again).’

She giggles to herself as she takes the post it note and slots it inside to a page in the middle of the book, the one with the first ever draft of her poem ‘show me yours’.

Beneath the old brown leather book is a very similar one. The exact same book instead this one is a dark green colour.

She flicks open the first page and finds a note has been drawn on the inside cover.

‘The day that I met you I started dreaming. Now I write them down if I remember in the morning

-Yours, Matty’

A few pages have been written on, he writes on one side of a double page then leaves the other blank so she can fill in her own thoughts or change what he has written.

They’re songs. Songs he had written in rehab. About her. For her. She’s not sure yet.

Her eyes scan the pages as she flicks through them all, taking note of the titles scribbled in red ink.

Inside your mind Love it if we made it Be my mistake Sincerity is scary If it’s not with you Mine In love Sometimes About you Playing on my mind

She reads them all. Over and over and over. She only adds to one of the songs he’s written. 

She finds inspiration, she writes. She writes a lot, poetry which turn into songs and songs which become poetry. She finds herself finishing songs from her old book that she’d begun writing years ago. Love songs she’d tried to write about Caleb seem to fall together with a new inspiration in mind.

Matty.

Even in the breakup songs she finds ways to reference him in some way.

She can’t help it. There’s a piece of Matty in everything she does. Not just in her writing, she finds herself gravitating towards clothes of hers that he’d once touched. Like her old The Stone Roses shirt he wore once, or the flannel shirt he’d always ‘borrow’ when he came into her room. She buys his favourite brand of tea bags and stocks the fridge with his favourite pop. She listens to his favourite artist and hums a few tones lower to match his usual pitch. She reads books he had recommended and watches True Romance over and over because she can still picture his happy grin as he mimed the words along to the cinema scene. She finds herself stroking the freckle on her collarbone he once kissed. Touching the part of her hairline he would rest his lips against when he held her close. She finds herself thinking of him. Consumed by him. It’s Matty. It’s always been Matty.

She doesn’t stop writing. The words seem to flow out of her unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. Her hand cramps and even then she continues on with ink stained finger tips delicately turning white pages.

She shifts the book from her knee to the coffee table and as she does something falls out from the back of it. Shuffling awkwardly across the floor and raising the heads of the two dogs who watch her, she reaches for the small photograph.

A smile stretches her lips. It’s of the band a few weeks after she first met them. She was young at the time, thirteen maybe if she remembers correctly. Matty is standing directly behind her with his hand on her shoulder and his chin on her head. She’s smiling so big. She misses it. She misses the band. She misses her boys. She misses her Matty.

July 30th 2007

“You’ll be fine.’

Her cousin's words do little to help sooth her nerves as she clutches his hand. “They’re my best mates,” He continues on as he holds the door open for her, “They’ll love you as much as I do.”

“I’m not sure, Ads.”

“It’ll be fine.”

He promises as he opens the door. Three sets of eyes are on her when she enters and she pauses at the doorway.

It’s the tallest one with a buzzcut that comes to her first with a smile. “Caroline?”

“Tommie.” She says quickly.

“I’m Ross.” He tells her, then with a hand on her back he guides her further into the room to sit on the small two seater they have. 

Before he can settle beside her the space is taken by the long haired guy, he throws an arm over her shoulder and places the other in front of her for her to shake. “I’m Matty. Hann tells us you can play guitar, wanna be in the band?”

Ross shakes his head and pushes Matty away from her by his forehead, “She’s like ten leave her alone.”

“I’m not… ten.” She says quietly. 

Matty shrugs, ignoring her quiet comment, “Well, let her decide, Ross.” He turns back to her then, brown eyes looking right through her, “Would you?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Leave her alone.”

The third guy who she hasn’t learnt the name of yet drags him to stand and pushes him away, Ross takes Matty’s spot while the guy in the beanie offers a shy smile. “I’m George.”

She nods back to him and lets her eyes go back to Matty who’s rocking back and forth on his feet, “I’ve always said having a girl in the band will do us better.”

“Better how?”

He sighs dramatically and Adam shoots a sharp look to George, “Really? You want him to give his whole speech again?”

George shrugs innocently as Matty clears his throat, “First of all, a girl can hit different notes than me, having one to harmonise-”

“Matty.” Ross interrupts, “The girl’s just got here. Let’s leave her alone, eh?”

He rolls his eyes then turns them back to Tommie, “Favourite song?”

She looks back to Adam, already hating her cousin for forcing her to meet his friends, “I don’t know, um.” She looks around at the walls of the little pool house they’re hidden away in. There’s posters and instruments all lying around, the floor is covered in wires and through a barely covered glass window she can see the pool. “I like that one of the new Arctic Monkey album.”

“Which one?”

“Brianstorm.”

He nods in thought, “Alright. Sit back, relax and enjoy, Thomas. We’re gonna blow you away.”

He ushers the guys up and Ross leans towards her, “This is him trying to convince you. Don’t give in, he’s pushy but he’ll give up eventually.”

Looking back, Tommie’s glad he didn’t give up.

She clutches the photo to her chest and leans back against her settee with a sob of solitude. 

With tears in her eyes she crawls across the floor to her sofa and grips her phone. With shaky hands she lifts it to her ear as the phone starts ringing. 

“Hello?”

“Can you come over? Please. I just-” She niffles and rubs the back of her wrist against her nose, “I really need you right now.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28, @plantinghobbies, @sinarainbows

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[enlitment]

Top 5 underappreciated historical figures!

Thanks for the ask! This one was super fun, but also super difficult to answer. I've purposefully avoided mentioning the ladies of the French Revolution, since I have another question specifically about them lined up.

With that being said, in no particular order:

Fulvia

Anyone in the classics circle likely knows much more about her than I do, but I'm so glad I've discovered her through Tumblr! All of the things I've learned about her so far have been so interesting. It's incredible to see how much political (and military) power a Roman woman was able to yield despite living in a deeply patriarchal society.

(also, the part of me that loves drama really appreciates the story about her stabbing Cicero's tongue with hairpins after the proscriptions and Octavian's atrocious poem about her)

2. Émilie du Châtelet

Also hardly a surprise for anyone who's been following me for a while. Again, the fact that I've only relatively recently found out that there was a female mathematician and physicist in the fist half of the 18th century with such significant contributions to the field makes me almost feel as if I've been lied to.

She is special to me both because she was incredibly smart (she was able to understand Newton like few other people in her time and she spoke so many languages!) but there's also something about her writing that makes her feel deeply human and relatable. I've read some of her texts, and not only are they written in a beautiful prose but they're also incredibly moving. Her view on how to achieve happiness in life is one of the best I've ever came across, and her arguments for the education of women always make me feel so emotional...

...when she says that it was only after she realised that the circle of (male) French intellectuals accepted her among themselves and treated her as equal that she realised she too "might be a thinking creature"... I don't know, there's something about it that always gets to me.

Okay, time to introduce some male historical figures as well! This one is a residue from the time when I was really into the American Revolution.

3. Peter Stephen Du Ponceau

He was probably the only one in Baron von Steuben's original group that was able to speak decent English when they first arrived in the US to join the revolutionary war, which a) makes him quite important b) is kind of funny to think about.

But what I especially like about him is that he was a talented linguist who seemed to have genuine respect for other cultures, which let's face it, was quite rare in his times. While taking part in the American Revolutionary War, he recorded and studied the languages of Native American People. How cool is that?

(He was also potentially queer and I do have a soft spot for queer history)

Okay, guess should bring up someone interesting from Czech history as well. I fully confess that my own country's history is not necessarily my favourite area of study, but for her, I'll always make an exception:

4. Milena Jesenská

Probably most well known as Kafka's (kind of?) girlfriend/pen pal, but there is so much more to her story!

She was a writer and a journalist during the first half of the 20th century. She was really talented and soon made a reputation for herself, which let's face it, wasn't an easy thing to do for women in her time.

After Czechia became occupied by Nazi Germany, she joined the resistance movement and helped Jewish families to escape. She was later transported to a concentration camp, where she worked as a nurse and was said to have been "a moral support for other prisoners". She unfortunately died there when she was only 47. Still, what a life!

5. John Polidori

He's not necessarily my number one favourite person but I'd argue he is one of the most unappreciated figures. Vampires in fiction are massively popular but he rarely gets credited as one of its first authors. (Also the theory that Lord Ruthven, the charismatic, immoral aristocrat featured in The Vampyre is heavily based off on Lord Byron is not only entirely plausible but also quite funny).

Whenever I read something about the Geneva Squad, I always end up feeling kind of bad for him. As a foreigner, someone who was of a lower social status and - since he technically came along as Byron's personal physician - a paid employee, it just seems to me like he was never actually fully part of the group. Maybe I'm wrong, but to me, he felt kind of like a perpetual outsider. Lord Byron also got the credit for writing The Vampyre that should have gone to Polidori.

He was of course far from a perfect saint, with his drug and gambling addiction, but I still can't help but feel that he deserved better.

[unanswered-stars]

Thank you so much for tagging me @jules-writes-stories @highlordofkrypton @achaotichuman

1. How many works do you have on AO3? I'm a but a wee babe in the ao3 world so just 7 but I have several WIP's that are on pause currently. I had originally had a fic planned for each day of Eris week but haven't been able to write in awhile so might be some time before those are published but once I start posting again you can expect Eris chaos to reign.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 36,487 I struggle to write long chapters and most of my works end up being around 2,500.

3. What fandoms do you write for? A Court of Thorns and Roses

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shadows of Regret and Redemption| Azris - My first published work. A oneshot that grew legs and started to run. I am not completely happy with it thus far but I have the end plotted and I'm excited to eventually bring that to life.

Daughter of Autumn | Azris - Now this one absolutely shocked me with its popularity. Started as a fun little drabble for Gwyn Week 2024 and of course turned into Azris central.

The Beginning and End of Friendship | Azris - So many people screaming in the comments at me on this one. More screaming to come when I post part two I’m sure.

Two Souls Entangled| Azris - A tiny part of my soul via a short poem for Azris Week 2024.

Heaven Help the Fool Who Falls In Love: The End | Azris - This is the first piece I wrote for fanfiction and it is my precious baby. Only one chapter posted but I have several in need of editing before I publish the remainder. It's very heavy and I haven't had the mental space to read through it again.

5. Do you respond to comments? Every single one! They bring me so much joy. I have currently stayed away from my comment section for my own mental health but when I start posting again I will get back to everyone's comments, promise.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? All of my works are fairly heavy on the angst. TBaEoF comes to mind but I think for published works I’ll go with The Ending of Darkness which is a short little piece about @jules-writes-stories OC Mithras x Sylvan which I have a part 2 almost completed which is equally as angsty (sorry). Unpublished works definitely The Burning of Leaves and The Death of Shadows which are two fics I had planned for Eris week but are currently on pause (poor Eris I was really putting him through the wringer for Eris Week).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Daughter of Autumn. Mostly because Cassian has the closing line and he just always says the darndest things.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have not, nor do I plan on it. Please don’t hate me 😅 Just not my writing jam. I love finding unique ways to explore a relationship and conveying those same emotions and feelings without the smut. That being said some of my favourite stories and authors use smut as such a wonderful exploratory storytelling device and it is delightful. I love reading others contributions to the smutsphere. So so many talented writers out there giving us all our smuttiest dreams. I truly do not think that my smut contribution is even necessary when you have things like To Become a Vanssera by @acourtofladydeath and Why Not Me by @thomasisaslut both absolutely rife with smut and use it beautifully to convey their story (albiet in very different ways).

9. Do you write crossovers? Not yet, and probably not ever because I can hardly keep up with writing ideas I have for one fandom.

10. Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it sounds delightful.

12. What is your all-time favorite ship? Azris most definitely for writing. I definitely have a big soft spot for Samwise and Rosie from LOTR (my husband is Samwise reincarnated and I am irrevocably in love with him). I have a WIP for Thesan and his lover and that dynamic and storyline has been so incredibly fun to explore as well.

13. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I started writing a Tarquin UTM oneshot that is incomplete and while I am still in love with the story I really struggled with writing the voice of Tarquin. This one will only ever get finished if I can finally figure out the right tone for this man’s internal dialogues.

14. What are your writing strengths? I have been told my writing reads like poetry which is one of the biggest compliments you could ever give me. I also love writing parallels but there’s definitely a lot of room for improvement there.

15. What are your writing weaknesses?  Editing haha. But actually, I find that my characters voices don’t feel very distinct and that there is a lot of overlap in the way they speak and think and it can be hard to distinguish who’s talking/thinking. I feel like my characters resemble a cookie cutter suburban neighborhood where the walls and trim might be a different colour but they’re all built exactly the same. If anyone has some tips please feel free to comment or message me!

16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I absolutely love reading it but unfortunately the only other language I know isn’t really a language at all. Pidgin, which is basically just native slang. I was playing around with it in my Tarquin fic a bit but seemed a tad too niche.

17. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR in middle school. I have a printed multi chapter booklet that is a rewrite of Sam and Frodo’s journey through Mordor that I made for my English class one year.

18. Favorite fic you’ve written? My favourite multi chapter by another author is undoubtedly A Court of Shadows and Ashes by @futurehunt Mother Save Us From Your Twisted fate by @chunkypossum which got a stunning part 2 for Eris Week this year! My favorite of my own published works is either HHtFWFiL:TE or The Ending of Darkness. Of my unpublished works honesty The Burning of Leave or The Death of Shadows are both strong contenders. For non Azris I have a Beron fic WIP for @sjmvillainweek day 1 that will probably get prioritized over the other two.

No pressure tags (and sorry if you've already been tagged): @the-darkestminds @born-to-riot @chairofchaos @thomasisaslut @chunkypossum @acourtofladydeath @shadowsandlint

[lovings4turn]

hi bee !! how r u? could u write some todd anderson hcs? thank you ily

hi lovely !! im good thank you,, i hope you're doing well too <3 of course omgosh,, ily too and thank you for the ask !! please enjoy some thoughts off of the top of my head ;

☆ dating todd anderson . . .

— todd is the sweetest, most caring boyfriend you could ever ask for. he's a little reserved and quiet to most people, sure, but once you two have been dating for a while, he truly starts to open up. and boy, does it make you fall harder for him.

— you're one of the only people - along with the poets - who get to see his wide, toothy grin that he can never control when he's too happy, or hear him dissolve into fits of genuine laughter. one of your favourite sights is when he's laughing so hard, his face is all scrunched up and his shoulders are shaking due to the force of his laughter.

— the boy is such a snuggler, especially when he's tired. if he's had a particularly long day of classes and his eyes are starting to sting with the strain of staring at his notebook for too long, he's quick to collapse on top of his bed and pull you into him quietly, just being thankful to feel your warmth next to him and be able to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

— because this is todd we're talking about, words of affirmation - especially when written down - is his main love language. todd will always leave little notes lying around for you to find, ranging from the classic 'i love you's and 'have a good day's to excerpts from some of his favourite sonnets and poems. whenever he thinks you're asleep, be prepared to hear him mumble some of the softest, most sincere compliments to you, brave enough under the guise that he won't be heard.

— on the one occasion that you're unable to hold back your smile, todd begins to stumble over his words as he attempts to 'explain' - though explain what, you don't know. when you reassure him that it's okay, and that it's okay for him to tell you these things when you're awake, too, they slowly start to slip into his everyday routine.