discussion of poetry

It was like the moment when a bird decides not to eat from your hand, and flies, just before it flies, the moment the rivers seem to still and stop because a storm is coming, but there is no storm, as when a hundred starlings lift and bank together before they wheel and drop, very much like the moment, driving on ice, when it occurs to you your car could spin, just before it slowly begins to spin, like the moment just before you forgot what it was you were about to say, it was like that, and after that, it was still like that, only all the time.
—  Marie Howe, “Part of Eve’s Discussion,” The Good Thief

(As always, you can find all my fic recs in my FIC REC MASTERPOST) 

- you don’t have to play the part, by @lookslikefairytales : Louis knew that this should be the part where he admitted defeat. Told funny, adorable, gorgeous Harry Styles that he wasn’t actually exchanging flirty Twitter messages with three time Grammy winner Zayn Malik, that it was just Louis, ordinary guy, who was nothing more than the guy who handled Zayn’s social media. But Louis had never been someone who prided himself in making the best decisions, and there also was a tiny (very, very big) part of him, that couldn’t let Harry go just yet. or the one where Harry is Britain’s new pop sensation, Louis is R&B star Zayn’s sassy social media manager and things get confusing.

Larry famous/not famous AU (17k) : nicely done and angsty ! a lot of texting and songwriting, no smut .

- Check Please , by @zedi-omega : Louis has a shit date. Harry offers to cover the bill. They maybe fall in love.

Larry aU (2k) : this is so cute !! Also now I want the same with 20k thank you ! :p (no smut)

- Riptide , by FlyingAlwaysInColor : AU in which Louis loses his amazing mum, and is sent on a forced holiday to a luxury spa resort where he meets a green-eyed butterfly-angel and an adventurous Irishman who help him start to heal by administering equal doses of love and laughter.

Larry AU (91k) : OMG I love this fic so much. Like .. love at first sight, really. This is about grieving, a lot. And also amazing smut (mostly bottom Harry but not only). And it’s angsty too, a bit. and it’s awesome. That’s all. Read it.

- We’re Going Down Swinging  , by @hazandlouwho : Everyone knows that revenge plots never work. Liam, Zayn, and Niall have told them as much, but Hell hath no fury like Louis Tomlinson scorned. His new friend Harry takes a bit of convincing but, once he agrees to help, Louis is sure his ex will regret the day he decided to cheat. That is, if Louis can stick to the plan and stop falling for his co-conspirator. Or, the one where Louis and Harry fake it til they make it, so to speak.

Larry fake relationship AU (21k) : I love the plot !! It’s a very nice fic, perfect to cheer you up, with some pining, great smut (bottom Harry) and a awesome epilogue :))

- I Found A Love   , by @lululawrence : Louis adjusted his suspenders a bit and picked up the next book when someone cleared their throat behind him, making Louis jump.  He spun quickly around, hand on his chest and just barely remembered to not drop Diana Gabaldon’s newest thousand page hardback that would definitely have done damage to Louis’ feet.Standing in front of him was someone who looked like he had just walked out of a motorcycle commercial.  He had his hair pulled up in a bun, was wearing what looked to be an expensive as fuck leather jacket over a ratty Rolling Stones t-shirt, and were those sparkly boots?  Louis wasn’t quite sure how to take him, but he certainly had a presence.  He was also likely confused about his location and was clearly about to ask where the DVD section was.Or the one where Louis is a nerdy English major who may just run into his happily ever after while working his shift at the local library.

Larry Famous-not Famous AU (4k), aka yes, poetry discussion and nerdy Louis are my kink. (no smut)

- From My Heart Flow , by @adifferentkindofson  :  The crowd begins to murmur, and Harry wonders if he’s somehow stumbled into an open mic night. His eyes scan the room looking for instruments and musicians but there’s … well, not an acoustic guitar or keyboard in site. His question is answered when just a moment later, none other than the cute boy in the beanie with the blue eyes walks up to the mic, the journal he’d been scribbling in all afternoon clutched to his chest. And suddenly it clicks. Louis’ a poet, Harry’s failing Econ, and sometimes all it takes is one poorly timed boner to ruin everything.

Larry strangers to lovers and Uni AU (8k): what did I say about a poetry kink ? Yeah, that. :) It’s great ! A lot of songwriting, some misunderstandings , and no smut.

- Zero to Sixty in Three Point Five , by @realitybetterthanfiction : Harry bumbles himself out of a bind…and into a boyfriend. It’s Niall’s fault, of course. As it always is.

Larry AU (2k) : online dating and drunk Harry. That’s all, read it. :)) (no smut)

- Safe and Sound (You’ll Always Be) , by Rearviewdreamer  : When a failed case and a guilty conscience leaves Harry more than a little lost, his boss presents him with a new, less taxing assignment to help him cope. An escape from all the madness is just what Harry needs to get his life back on track. It’s just too bad his new client has a grin like the devil, a pair of electric eyes that Harry simply can’t get over, and no intention whatsoever of letting him catch a break.

Larry Bodyguard AU (58k) : just because it’s always a good time to read a good Bodyguard AU :) (famous Louis, and bottom Louis for the smut)

[ the first ] — remember, the rising brings out the beast in you. be terrified of nothing, your blood is starsung and your heart is godly gold. you’ve got the wind in your name and the earth will always follow you home. 

[ the second ] — you are not a creature made but reborn. those fingers trying to pull the threads of your heart apart are only moths against your skin. brush them aside. step out of your ashes. the dead can only comfort the dead. 

[ the third ] — spit those words out of your mouth. they’ve already been lost. their bitterness will sink into your teeth and you will be sucking venom out of your own created wounds. drink a glass of water. find another word. 

[ the fourth ] — if you continue to pull yourself out of the ground, more and more of you will be left behind. those tiny roots left to rot in unknown soil. sink your fingers into the dirt and breathe. you will know when it’s time to leave. 

[ the fifth ] — it is the moon in your breastbone that makes you glow, heart-proud and weary. the entirety of an entire celestial body against your bones is sometimes too much, the universe is a profound ache. it is okay to rest. the moon will still rise.

[ the sixth ] — spread your fingers out across the sky and select your favorite stars. feel that cosmic pulse shared, fingers to wrist and waiting. tell them that secret you’ve placed between your bones. the heavens will start to hum. 

[ the seventh ] —cicadas rise and fall in the heat, a drawn out heartbeat. it will slow within you but remember to curl your hands into fists and beat against the earth. she loves you. she loves you. she loves you. she’s there for your broken bones and your withering heart. anything can grow in the earth. 

[ the eighth ] — exhale and do not immediately breathe in old toxicities. your body will know when to inhale again. it knows you well and your dark blood is real. in those seconds, remake yourself different. exhale. remake. inhale. you are never a mistake. 

[ the ninth ] — the water may not always agree with you but it’s still a conversation worth having. step out into the river’s bank and let it hiss and roil over your bones, against your skin until you’re red hot and angry. then let it take that heavy stone heart and bury it in the mud. explore the possibility of being. 

[ the tenth ] — go for a moment without your name. let it drift unknown on the sticky breeze. you can fall apart in those moments, dismantle your bones and dust them off. wash them with soap and water. when your name comes back, listen to the stories it holds. 

[ the eleventh ] — the heaviness of the midnight hour rests inside the thirty-three vertebrae but that is not where it lives. you’re a thing of heat and heartbeats and those unsilent stars are threaded through your dna. scream louder. they miss you so much.

[ the twelfth ] — hollowed and hallowed, rid yourself of the empty bones that have failed to recreate. cast them in gold and reset them. leave a vacant mortality behind you, throw yourself into the heavens, and scream — because, remember, the universe was created with only a word.

@nosebleedclub​‘s discussion for the new zodiac for 6/9/17

the types as teachers

the mom teacher: ISFJ, ESFJ, ENFJ

the graduate professor because people under the age of 22 don’t deserve to be alive: INTJ

the nerdy (in an endearing way) computer programming teacher: INTP, ISTP

the english teacher who nuts every time the class discusses poetry: INFP

the art teacher: ISFP, ESFP, INFJ

the math teacher who everyone loves: ENTP

the math teacher who everyone is scared of: ENTJ, ISTJ, ESTJ

the teacher who is knowledgeable but a complete mess: ENFP

the gym teacher who wears the same tracksuit every single day: ESTP

anonymous asked:

Starkquill where somehow Drax was the first one to notice that Tony and Peter were into each other, but he's been around humans for a while now and he understands that if you tell them things directly they'll just do the opposite and ruin everything for everyone, so he's going to get them together using... metaphors

Tony Stark Is The Alyssa Milano

“He was kidnapped by aliens,” Drax stated as he watched the earthling known as Tony Stark dance along to the music Peter had declared awesome and that Rocket had grown fond of. Drax found Tony Stark’s dancing to be lazy–a simple roll of the hips and thrusting his arms above his head. It was something Groot could do while he was still potted.

Despite regaining his mobility and being capable of far more intricate dance, Groot mimicked the earthling’s movements and danced beside Tony Stark.  

“He wasn’t kidnapped, Drax. He was accidentally relocated.” Peter huffed as he leaned against the wall. His eyes wandered over Tony Stark’s body and rested on the man’s ass. The corner of Peter’s mouth quirked up as he admired Tony Stark’s rear end. “We’ll get him back home soon. Assuming we can get rid of him. He seems to like space.”

“Kidnapped, enjoys space, likes your music, and can dance,” Drax listed off.

Peter grinned. “Yeah, pretty cool dude. I might actually miss him by the time we get him back to Earth.”

For a man who had been in search of a partner for as long as Drax had known him, Drax was surprised that Peter was unable to see his perfect match right before him.

Earthlings could be quite stupid sometimes.

(Mobile Users, read more line)

Keep reading

If I could,
I would turn girls into dragons.

Girls whose skin
has been stained by filthy hands,
girls who are forced
to face those familiar hands
day after day,

give them armor.

Girls who are told
that womanhood means duty,
who dig
and sweat
and carry
and labor,
girls who break their backs
on someone else’s burden,

give them spiked spines.

Girls trapped in cycles:
cycles of abuse
cycles they can’t even name,
down the drain
and thrown out with the bathwater,

give them claws.

who chomp down on fear
hiding behind their teeth,
who swallow it whole
because it’s the only nourishment they’ll get,

give them razor fangs.

who thirst for knowledge
in the middle of a drought,
girls whose minds
are considered as real as their suffering,

give them fire
to burst from their mouths
in place of the words that no one hears.

whose bodies are not their own;
who are meant for decoration
and cannot decorate themselves,
who are meant for pleasure
and cannot pleasure themselves,
who are meant to be examples
and cannot exemplify themselves,

give them wings
to fly far, far away,

taste freedom in the sky,
and see it for what it should be:
a right, not a privilege.

Every girl
who is considered a possession
or a prize
or a plaything,

who lives
confined by people
who call condescension “love”
and manipulation “compromise”
and fear “respect”
and silence “consent,”

give her eyes
that strike terror into the heart
of anyone who would call her weak.

Gift girls with dragonhood
when personhood is a myth.

—  Dragonhood by Sarah C.
Mutual pining/Getting together


On Monday, Dex has an early class. This leads to him being awake very early, and ten times more tired than everyone else in the evening.

Its not fair, Nursey thinks, no one that tired should be that cute.

Dex wraps himself up in a soft blanket, and hides his yawns behind his hands so no one comments on it. Sleepy, soft Dex is a weakness of Nursey’s, and he isn’t sure he can hide his crush much longer.



On Tuesdays, Nursey has a study group over. Dex has given up on being in the Haus between 5pm and 7pm without being distracted. It wasn’t the study group itself, or the people in it, it was Nursey.

Nursey was in his element discussing philosophy and poetry. His face lit up, and he got excited debating different points with his classmates.

It was too distracting, and Dex had resigned himself to either studying at the library or getting nothing done.



Thursdays allowed them to study together in the library. Dex was less likely to get distracted by Nursey when they both had to stay quiet.

Nurdey was distracted by Dex. The way he completely focused on his work, so much so that he didn’t even notice Nursey staring at him, the way he ran his hands through his hair, even his messy handwriting was distracting as Nursey tried to decipher it, occasionally allowing himself to daydream that Dex practiced writing “Mr. and Mr. Poindexter-Nurse” and “Mr. and Mr. Nurse-Poindexter”.

That was when Nursey realised just how far gone he was on his best friend.



Thursday allowed them the same lunchtime, and it had become habit to head to the canteen and meet up.

It had also become a habit of Nursey’s parents to ring him before he headed back to class.

The Thursday they rang early was the day Dex realised how in love he was with Nursey. The stress left his features completely, and he sounded happier and calmer than Dex ever heard him.



Friday was when neither of them could handle the crush anymore.

Nursey said it first, at 3am in the morning. He couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, and told Dex about his crush.

Dex didn’t exactly tell Nursey about his feelings for him then. His kiss gave away his feelings though.

Shit I Still Think I’m Right About

So a few months ago in this poetry class I took we were discussing the poetry of Ocean Vuong (who btw I HIGHLY recommend I think he’s great)

And his family moved from Vietnam to America when he was 2 and he grew up here and got a degree in Nineteenth Century English Literature (hashtag majors I wish my college offered) and got down to writing poetry

And in the book we read (Night Sky with Exit Wounds) he references Greek mythology a lot

And in my class (which was 11 white students, 1 black student, and a white professor) people were discussing that and people were saying that like it symbolized or was trying to say something about some East vs West tension or how the poet felt about the immigrant experience, because since he isn’t “from here” and specifically because he’s Asian, and because Greek philosophy influenced Western thought so much more than it influenced Eastern thought, that his use of Greek mythology was basically him using mythology that didn’t “belong to” him and that this somehow signified something

And I was like

Well first of all if he majored in nineteenth century English literature…those people were OBSESSED with Greek mythology so he would have had to study it a LOT so it probably comes up sometimes when he’s doing the poetry and trying to think of things to compare to other things

Second of all HE HAS LIVED IN AMERICA HIS WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE FOR AS LONG AS HE CAN REMEMBER, I’m pretty sure all of Western culture “belongs to” him if he wants it

Thirdly we just read some white poet who used the haiku form a lot and we never breathed a word about WHY he was using an Eastern poetry form when he’s a Westerner or whether or not haiku “belonged to” him

Fourthly like, oh my god, seriously though, HE LIVES HERE!!!!

Idk it’s just still on my mind a lot bc like…I felt like everyone was trying to be really progressive and understanding and it just ended up sounding racist to me and when I gently raised my objections everyone looked at ME like I had TWO HEADS!!!!

anonymous asked:

I'm just currently a little confused about some information going around about Sappho? Some members of the lesbian community are saying that Sappho's bisexuality was fabricated by men as a way of erasing her lesbian identity and I'm just wondering if there are sources to support this or if it's just another case of biphobia?

Short Answer:

Here is the deal: No one knows the exact truth about Sappho.  What we have is fragments of poems and some very flattering words from the Alexandrians.  Besides having a ballpark of when she lived (600’s BC) and where (Lesbos), we know almost nothing about her. 

But that’s really not the point.  

Sappho wrote lyrical and romantic poetry about men and women because it was her job.  She got PAID for this, presumably.   We don’t know how she really felt about any of it.  It certainly seems like she cared about the people she wrote about, and maybe she did.  Or maybe she was just a really good writer.  

Our culture is full of generalizations about history and historical figures.   But it is only when Sappho is claimed as bisexual that people wring their hands about how we don’t know for sure.  Applying any label to a historical figure is technically dicey, but it is only the bi ones that have to prove it 100% beyond a shadow of a doubt.   The word lesbian, used to refer to women who are attracted to women, didn’t even exist in her time, but you don’t see people interrogating lesbians over historical inaccuracy. 

Longer Answer with Historical Context (or, Ellie finally gets some use out of her Classical Studies degree):

The context of Sappho’s relationships with women is kind of complicated. Sappho ran a  thiasos, a sort of informal finishing school for young unmarried women. Upper-class families would send their daughters to these academies for instruction in proper feminine behaviors, as well as music and poetry recital, before they transitioned into married life (Krstovic). Aphrodite, the goddess of love, was the patron deity of the thiasos, and Sappho frequently used symbols of Aphrodite -  flowers and garlands, perfumes, incense, and outdoor scenery – as part of her love poetry to the young women under her tutelage (“Sapphos”). Many of Sappho’s poems were actually marriage songs for these girls when they left to marry men.

Sappho’s thiasos may be considered the female counterpart to the male education system. In the Athenian Greek world, it was common for older men to take a younger boyfriend, and this was an important part of training the boy for his adult public life , providing him with connections he would need to operate in a democracy. In Plato’s Symposium, Pausanias (himself an older lover), describes the relationship in terms of education. “When the former (the older lover) has the power to contribute towards wisdom and distinction, and the latter (the younger beloved) needs to acquire education and accomplishment” (Klink p.196-197). So if you want to talk about cultural differences, and how you can’t apply modern definitions to people in history, there’s your first point: When we talk about Greek homosexuality or Sappho, we’re talking about pedophilia, not the adult relationships that define modern gay/lesbian, bisexual relationships.

So Sappho was probably writing to under-aged girls. Athenian Greek readers would have probably seen an echo of their own pedophilic system in Sappho’s poetry. Whether or not they respected it the same way they respected their own male system is debatable, and given that women had such a poor role in Athenian society, they probably didn’t. But they would have recognized it as the same system, even while believing it to be “inferior”.  Greek men saw female forms of the pedophilic system elsewhere. By 100 CE, Plutarch described Spartan women taking girls as lovers, as the explicit female counterpart to the male practice (Klinck 197). This may be late archaic Greek idealization of the past, but it introduces the idea that men would have been aware of women following similar homosexual practices. In Plato’s Symposium, Aristophanes talks about women who love women and equates it to heterosexual love, in that both heterosexuality and lesbianism were inferior compared to male homosexuality. He treated lesbianism as a joke, but he is clearly drawing parallels between it and male homosexual practices of the time (Klinck, 196-197).

But for all her same-sex love poetry, Sappho didn’t seem to have a queer reputation until 100-200 CE, nearly 800 years after her death.  The earliest reference to Sappho’s sexuality doesn’t come until the second or third century CE, from a papyrus based off the earlier work of Chamaeleon. “She has been accused by some people of being licentious in her lifestyle and a woman-lover.” (Klinck, 194-195) “Woman-lover” is pretty clear, but take a minute to look at the word “licentious.” The verb is ataktos, meaning “not properly regulated,” “out of line,” or “unmanageable.” This word is important because it tells us about her sexual reputation.

By the Athenian period, women from Lesbos may have has a reputation for “unmanageable” sexuality, in much the same way the modern Western world stereotyped certain races and nations as more sexual. They may have especially had a reputation for oral sex, a more “slutty” act than ViP intercourse in the ancient world. In Wasps, a play by the Athenian comedian Aristophanes, the character Philocleon says he snatched up a flute-girl when she was going to “lesbianize” a man at the party, meaning she was going to perform oral sex with him (Klinck, 195). The effect is to equate the country with “unmanageable” sexuality. Other references to lesbian actions are less clearly oral, but definitely sexual in nature. The joke seemed to be that women from Lesbos were so sexual, they’d even do anything, even each other.

So Sappho’s reputation was one of “unmanageable” sexuality, whether she was writing homoerotic poetry about girls or lusting after younger men.  When people imply that Sappho’s male relationships were made up in order to make her seem “straight,” they are forgetting that those stories did nothing to improve her reputation, but just made it worst. In one of the most popular stories about Sappho’s love life, told by Ovid and comic poet Menander, Sappho falls in love with a beautiful young male sailor named  Phaon who will not have her. Finally in despair, she commits suicide by throwing herself off a cliff into the sea. The point in making her fall in love with a man was never to make her seem safely straight. The point was to make a joke at her expense, about how she was so sexed up, that even as an ugly old woman she was throwing herself at young men who would never be interested in someone like her. Ovid and Menander weren’t saving her reputation; they were painting her as a slut. As 21st century bisexual women, the stereotype parallels seem obvious to us.

The later focus on Sappho’s licentiousness, either towards women or men, may also be the product of shifting sexual mores. After all, there are nearly 300 years between Sappho’s life in (circa 570BCE) and her appearance in Athenian comedies and philosophies circa 300BCE, and nearly 800 years before she is discussed in poetry treatises in (200 CE). Research Anne L. Klinck observes, “Attitudes towards sexuality changed in the fifth and fourth centuries BCE, and perhaps the poetry of female passion came to be regarded as unseemly” (196).

No one knows how Sappho’s poetry was originally published while she was still alive, but by the Era of Alexandrian scholarship in the second and third century BCE, her works were collected into a standard 9 volumes, none of which exists today, but we know that the whole first volume was made up of heterosexual marriage poetry, family, and religion. Because of her lustful reputation, her works were targeted for censorship first by Bishop Gregory Nazienzen of Constantinople in 380CE, and again in 1073 by Pope Gregory VII ( Krstovic). Most of Sappho’s work exists in fragments and scraps, and only one full poem still exists. Many of these came from Alexandrian textbooks of poetry and style, in which only short pieces were quoted as examples, because it was assumed the reader would have access to the full poems. These Alexandrian textbooks were not re-discovered until the renaissance. Other Sappho fragments come from 19th century discoveries of papyri scraps preserved in the Egyptian desert, and early 20th century discoveries of scraps used in the paper-mache liners of Egyptian of coffins (Krstovic), and more recently a lengthy portion of a poem about her brother was discovered on another  papyrus scrap (Romm).

In the 19th century, Sappho became a symbol for a growing movement of women-loving-women, even giving them her name. In the 19th century, women who loved women were frequently described as sapphic women, even if they also had relationships with men. The distinction between lesbians and bisexual women wasn’t nearly as important as our culture makes it out now. Later the sapphic movement took its name from Sappho’s homeland, the island of Lesbos. The association came about because of her love poetry written towards the young women she taught at her school.

But the ultimate question: did Sappho write love poetry to men? The answer: not many, but yes. . Because of  Sappho’s association with lesbians over the last few hundred years, modern writers tend to ignore her bisexuality. When discussing her supposed lesbianism, author’s will ignore evidence that she wrote of love between women and men, such as the epithalamia (marriage poetry), and many of the fragments are ambiguous, but clearly lack feminine endings. Some translators will purposely translate these ambiguous fragments with  feminine pronouns to imply a female love interest, even when those endings are not clear in the source material. When translating Sappho in her study of homoerotic elements, Klinck gives an example of a fragment that is frequently translated as the feminine participle when the actual word is optative, and another example of a fragment with a masculine ending that “may not be significant” (Klinck 201). Translators can sometimes be forgiven for this oversight – many of them are trying to strengthen the argument that Sappho really was as queer as her reputation – but it is not necessary to risk misinterpretation to do that.


If there is a conspiracy afoot to fake Sappho’s poems about men to erase her lesbianism, we’ve never heard of it.  But we have heard of a lot of lesbians whine that in honoring the full spectrum of what we DO know about Sappho, we’re taking something away from them.  This is bullshit and biphobia talking.

We may never know the exact truth, but what we do know looks pretty damn bisexual to us.

 - Ellie and Sarah

Works Cited

“Sappho.” Encyclopaedia Britannica. Encyclopaedia Britannica Online Academic Edition. Encyclopædia Britannica Inc., 2014. Web. 27 Feb. 2014.

 Krstovic, Jelena. “Sappho: Overview.” Gay & Lesbian Biography. Ed. Michael J. Tyrkus and Michael Bronski. Detroit: St. James Press, 1997. Biography in Context. Web. 21 Feb. 2014.

 Klinck, Anne L. “’Sleeping in the Bosom of a Tender Companion’: Homoerotic Attachments in Sappho” Journal of Homosexuality. 49.¾ (2005) :193-208. Database name. Web. 20 Feb 2014.

 Romm, James. “Scholars Discover New Poems from Ancient Greek Poetess Sappho.” The Daily Beast. 28 Jan. 2014. Web. 27 Feb. 2014. http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/01/28/scholars-discover-new-poems-from-ancient-greek-poetess-sappho.html


An Imagine on what it would be like to date him! <3 Lordy I had fun writing this one! Fluffy - a tinge smutty.

  • Long slow kisses.
  • Coffee dates, with deep discussions about art, poetry, music, literature, travel, deep thinking, and staring intently into your eyes… and down your cleavage.  He thinks he’s being all sneaky sneaking glances at your boobs. ;)
  • Speaks foreign terms of endearment and other filthy things in the many foreign languages he knows!
  • Likes for you to be the Lady in the streets, and the Whore in the sheets!
  • He is the perfect gentleman, and your parents and friends adore him!
  • He is your protector.
  • Going to museums together, The ballet, the Opera, musicals, and acting right in public -  or giving the illusion of such - when actually he whispers naughty things in your ear, or secretly gropes you!
  • Sweet shit, those bedroom eyes!
  • You can feel his presence from across the room, and suddenly the world just stops and it is just the 2 of you. Very Hot!!
  • He likes to spoil you in various ways. Handwritten love notes and cards, Perfumes, lingerie, jewelry.  He likes it when you wear that black lace panty and bra set. The sheer see thru lace gets his mouth watering!  You are his Queen, his Goddess, his world and he will not let you forget it!
  • Anniversaries are a big deal to him, and you celebrate whenever he is in town. Yes he is cheesy and celebrates monthiversaries - the anniversary of your first date together!
  • You both make Sheamus gag because you two are so damn cute!  Sheamus always tells you two to “Get a fookin room, ya fookin lovebirds!”
  • He likes for you to be beautiful, so he is always sending you to the spa for all day treatments, or to the salon to get your hair and nails done.
  • He likes taking you shopping. Michael Kors, Burberry, CoCo Chanel, there is no place he won’t go with you.  He also wouldn’t dream of letting you carry all those heavy bags by yourself!
  • Fine dining. Nothing but the best for you, his ladylove.  Loves for you to get all dressed up to go out on the town. You are the IT couple. Screw the Miz and Maryse - it is Cesaro and Y/N!
  • He is also one HELL of a barista!  He likes making yummy coffee drinks at home for the two of you. He also is a wonderful baker and chef, and treats you to candlelit dinners at his place all the time.
  • Making out in the Hot tub.
  • Stargazing.  He knows all the constellations and planets and the Mythology that goes along with them - but his favorite stars are the ones he sees in your eyes.
  • Lots of romance.  Flowers, gifts.
  • Slow dancing under the stars.
  • Very passionate. Loves soft kisses that gradually build up to lip biting, and wrestling tongues. Loves to tease and deny you your release a few times, before he finally allows you a release - and LORDY what a release!  The 2nd time around is for his release! Always the gentleman.
  • Loves for you to stroke his body all over - loves being petted. He feels so good under your hands as you rub his chest and down his tight stomach. You both worship each other’s bodies. That “Happy Trail” tho… damn!
  • In bed, likes  very much to be in control - as in using silk neckties to bind you to his will!!  
  • Passionate lover.
  • Loves PDA, hugs, hand holding, pecks to the cheek, on top of your head, forehead, hand kisses..
  • He is competitive, but not above stopping his weight lifting to be your spotter as you are lifting weight in the gym with him.  He always gives you tips on how to enhance your workout and be the best you can be.  He is proud of your accomplishments, and never slacks in giving you lavish praise.
  • He has a very dry sense of humor, but you two are always laughing and smiling.
  • The best hugs.
  • He loves it when he can take you to have a new experience in dining or travel - he actually gets off seeing the wonder and joy in your eyes as you experience things he has experienced many times.
  • Selfies together. That goes without saying. 
  • The tear away suit isn’t just part of his ring gear - he has used it on you in the bedroom a time or two. IT. NEVER. DISAPPOINTS.

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

My tagged beauties: @wwesmutdonedirtcheap @deidrelovessheamus @helluvawriter @laochbaineann

In Dreams She Comes

Summary: While discussing poetry, the Doctor remembers Rose.

Characters: Twelfth Doctor, Bill Potts, Nardole

Rated G


Author’s Note: This is a departure for me, because I am no poet, and I frankly know nothing about poetry beyond a college level poetry class I took a million years ago, but She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron got stuck in my head this morning, and this is the result. Obviously, Lord Byron’s poem, which I’ve quoted here, does not belong to me. The Doctor’s opinions on Lord Byron’s works are his own, and are not necessarily shared by the author.This is intended as a one-shot, and I’m marking it complete, but I may change my mind. Who knows.

Read on AO3, FFNET

She comes to him in dreams, more often now than she has for centuries. No, that’s a lie. He’s very good at it, lying, particularly to himself; it’s a skill he’s honed over millennia after all. In truth, not a day has gone by that he hasn’t thought of her, at least once or twice, sometimes with the twinge of nostalgia brought on by fresh loss and old age, sometimes with a terrible longing he hadn’t believed this incarnation capable of. It was an ironic gift of the blindness, the ability to see her face more clearly now than he had for centuries: on a space station, glowing with the energy of the Vortex; under a black hole, kissing the helmet of his space suit; lying on the floor of the console room, laughing with the sheer joy of living; and most often, in a darkened, war-torn street her lips slowly curling up into a smile, her light blonde hair falling loose upon her shoulders, her brown eyes twinkling as she spotted him.

In his dreams that scene ended differently, with a long-awaited kiss, exuberant because that was who he had been in those days, a kiss filled with the joy of reconciliation and passion for the girl whom he’d believed he’d never see again.

He shut his eyes for a moment, savoring the false memory, and absently traced a finger over his lips. Different lips to be sure, but still his own.

“‘She walks in beauty as the night,’” he quoted softly.

“That’s Shakespeare, isn’t it?” Bill asked from somewhere to the left and slightly behind him.

He started, startled by the sound of her voice. He’d thought himself alone.

“Nah, that’ll be Robert Browning,” Nardole responded. Ahead of him, six paces. Other side of the console? Possibly. When had they come in, and how had he not noticed? Too lost in his thoughts, he expected. “All that lovey dovey stuff’s a bit too sentimental for my taste.”

The Doctor reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sonic sunglasses. He slipped them on with an air of nonchalance.

“You’re both wrong. It’s Lord Byron,” he corrected. “One of the greatest poets who ever lived.” With the aid of the sunglasses, from his position sitting on the stairs in the TARDIS control room, he could now *see* in front of him the console, its glowing time rotor reaching up to the ceiling, and two humanoid life forms, one standing on the side of the console nearest the door, the other walking across the room towards the console. As he had predicted, Nardole was the one on the far side of the console, his life readings humanish rather than strictly human.

As Bill came to a stop in front of the monitor, the Doctor stood. He tugged at his jacket to straighten it before crossing unerringly to join her. He was getting better at this, he thought, pretending to not be blind. Of course, the glasses helped.

“One of the greatest human poets, maybe,” Nardole responded, the skepticism heavy in his voice clearly indicating he didn’t think much of Lord Byron, or of human poets in general. Given his attitude on humans in general, it wasn’t surprising.

“One of the greatest poets, and not just of humans,” the Doctor corrected.

“If you say so,” Nardole said dubiously.

“I do say so, and I am the world’s utmost authority on poetry.”

Keep reading

five short poems about “what if people call themselves toasters now”


is this a problem in your life

toaster people

do you know many toaster people

do they cause you many problems



a woman says she is a woman

a man says he is a man

a person says they are neither

and your thoughts turn to toasters




okay, maybe some people are toasters now

this is okay

hi toasters



i am not sure how to talk to a toaster, what they will want?


not bread?

but i am ready to listen



Calling people “toasters” is a really cheap and frivolous argument when there are actual lives at stake here.  It might make sense to pull out in some shooting-the-breeze theoretical debate, but trans people are not theoretical creatures of whimsy.  We’re real people whose needs are human and include such extravagances as “peeing” or “being able to go to the doctor.”  What fucking kind of person do you have to be to hear that people who come out as trans are losing their families and livelihoods and lives, and to think your fucking toaster joke is relevant commentary?  Fuck.

All you need to know about Call Me By Your Name

Call Me By Your Name is a captivating novel written in English by a Jewish Egyptian-born, French-speaking literary theory professor who lived in Italy when he was a teenager and later on in the US. This gives you a taste of the multi-linguistic, academic capacity of the novel, where the characters discuss language, art, poetry, philosophy and literature from one culture to the other.

The movie is also directed by a gay Italian-Algerian man, Luca Guadagnino, and written by another gay man, James Ivory. Armie Hammer and Timothée Chalamet, chosen by Guadagnino, play two Jewish, bisexual characters (I’m saying bisexual and not gay because while I’m not totally sure about Oliver, Elio has spontaneous sexual relations with Marzia, and that’s enough for me).
Them both being Jewish is what makes Elio feel connected to Oliver and it’s an important part of the book. So, while Hammer and Chamelet are apparently(?) straight, they’re both of Jewish descent which hopefully gave them enough insight when playing Elio and Oliver.
While this is my main issue (I think minorities should be played by minorities) Armie and Timothée are 1) how I have exactly imagined Elio and Oliver to be; 2) were chosen by Guadagnino, a gay man, who made it a point to make the movie not a movie about being gay and coming out, but what the book was originally written like: a story about loneliness, sexual awakening, and find someone who connects with you on a physical and spiritual level regardless of their sex (this is better explained by Elio’s father’s speech and one of the reasons why I encourage everyone to read this book).

Now, about the age difference thing and why it’s basically irrelevant regarding this book: Elio is 17, which is above the age of consent in Italy, while Oliver is 24. Oliver in no way dominates or manipulates Elio into doing stuff with him. He likes him, tries to let him know by touching Elio’s back once, and when Elio gets away (bc he’s developing feelings on his own but can’t control them) Oliver backs away immediately because he felt like he had almost molested him. And avoids Elio for the first half of the book. Every touch, every action is initiated or encouraged by Elio. (Oliver PANICKS after their first time together. He’s aware of his position and is terrified to do anything against Elio’s will). Now, I’m really wary when it comes to relationships with a significant age difference and I have myself been with someone 7 years older than me when I was no longer a minor and it wasn’t a good experience. And this is why it’s irrelevant in CMBYN: [spoiler] they don’t have the chance to be in a relationship, because Oliver leaves and returns to the US, marries and has a family. Which totally changed the book for me. There’s not a happy ending, but they’re not doomed to have an unbalanced relationship either, and it’s the point of the book.

tl;dr: your concerns are valid BUT READ THE BOOK


Your favourite HP m/m ships 2/?: Regulus x Barty Jr

uhm, this might not be one of your favourites, since this is requested by, well, me. i just really have a thing for young soft death eaters and a lot of angst and sorrow, so regulus black and barty crouch junior will always be one of my favourite pairs. (tag me in EVERYTHING that exist on this couple, please)

  • barty is a ravenclaw student the year below regulus.
  • they could’ve gone through they’re lives without ever even spoken to eachother, but they don’t.
  • because barty happens to beat an old record of regulus in transfiguration and regulus can’t believe it.
  • so he seeks barty up, corner the one year younger boy when he’s alone just to get a look at mcgonagall’s new little wonder child.
  • and barty is arrogant and besserwisser, but he’s also charismatic and has that kind of strong presence and fire in him that makes regulus think about sirius.
  • and in regulus, barty for the first time sees an equal, someone who’s really worthy of his time, someone who’s not childish and dumd as his classmates.
  • they discuss philosophy together, they read poetry for each other and they talk about their families, they share their deepest secrets and their biggest dreams. they talk about a future. they laugh and they cry.
  • they taste each others lips, feel each others soft skin, let their fingers caress each others hair.
  • it’s all a big secret. their family’s would never understand and regulus can’t loose his family, not like sirius did.
  • so they always meet in secret, never speak in public.
  • times get darker.
  • it’s regulus fault that both of them join the death eaters.(at least regulus will for ever blame himself for dragging barty in to that crap)
  • one does it because it’s what expected of him. the other one because it’s the last thing that’s expected of him. really, both do it because all they really want is their parents to notice them, finally pay some god damn attention to them and love them.
  • maybe they also do it because of the tense somewhat exciting electricity that’s in the air. because time’s are a changing and they want to be a part of something, something bigger. and they want to do it together.
  • if it’s regulus fault that they join, it’s bartys fault that they stay.
  • it scares them, because they both know that they’re on their way to lose each other. they’re slowly growing apart and they no longer tell each other everything.
  • however, they never stop loving each other. both clinging to old memories, old versions of the other. clinging to the hope that things soon will change, and that the other will change with it.
  • but they never get time for any change, because regulus died.

send me your favourite m/m hp pairs (and maybe a headcanon) and i’ll make aesthetics for them!

actually what if instead of reading my anthropology books I would simply make black-out poetry out of them all? the process is just so enthralling and relaxing. will it count as a scholarly pursuit? will I still get my grants? and imagine the presentations that I’ll do! I can make a revolution in anthropology. I see it already: admittance to grad programs in black-out poetry, qualification exams, dissertation defenses, international conferences—black-out poetry! discussions of a new work of a certain professor So-and-so: have you seen their black-out of Maliniwski’s pages?! that was hilarious! and so instructive! the whole page was marred except for the word “Chthulucene.” wait I think it was not Malinowski’s.