Marina Tsvetaeva from Phaedra: a drama in verse; with New Year's Letter and other Long Poems
Pinche wey no lo entiendo
i need him biblically
Walt Whitman, “Song of Myself”, Complete Poems
[Text ID: “Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch’d from,”]
The generation gap between me and ppl of my own age
Mood.
february 22, @jegulus-microfic prompt: contrast. word count: 576.
Regulus slowly, groggily woke up, feeling warm and secure. He smiled, realizing James’ arms were wholly wrapped around him, cocooning him in something that felt close to love. Regulus picked up James’ hand, intertwining their fingers, admiring the contrast between them. Warm brown wrapped around pale skin—striking but stunning, and it was them. James and Regulus contrasted each other in the best ways—starlight and sunshine, nighttime and day bright. James’ warmth to Regulus’ chill,even their favorite colors, red and green—they contrasted and complemented one another—yin and yang, relying on the other for balance.
James stirred beneath Regulus, and he turned his face in to kiss James’ cheek. James hummed. “Baby,” he whispered, voice thick and slightly hoarse in the mornings. It gave Regulus goosebumps. He pushed his face into James’ neck, burying his face to hide his blush. “James,” he whined.
James tightened his hold around Regulus, bringing them closer until Regulus was fully settled on top of James’ chest.
James grinned up at him, eyes half open and looking sleepy. But his smile was bright. “Hi, Reg,” he said, breath skittering across his face.
“Hi, James,” Regulus said, hands traveling over James’ arms, soft in their exploration, just wanting to feel and touch and have.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” James asked, eyes falling shut as Regulus ran gentle fingers across his chest.
He pressed a kiss to James’ left side of his chest—right over his heart. Regulus could practically sense James’ smile.
“I think we balance each other well.”
He felt the hum in James' chest against his lips. “I agree. We’re different, but… a good different.”
“We contrast in almost every way.”
Regulus was snappy and he could be vicious. James was more patient, more kind. James was usually bouncing off the walls when he gets excited—but Regulus could go on and on and on, talking for hours about whatever he was interested in. If James was protective over someone, he’d be a helpful pressense, but also he’d fight whoever or whatever hurt his loved ones. Regulus would be silent in his helpfulness, reluctant when displaying his care outwardly, and he’d go behind the scenes to attack the thing that caused distress. They were just fundamentally different, in so many ways—in the ways they reacted, how they looked, their smiles, their eyes.
“Yeah, that’s true.” They were both silent for a moment until James continued, “But I think, really, we match in all the ways that matter.” He lifted a hand and traced along Regulus’ back, who leaned into it, always craving more of James, more of him in any way he could get. “We match each other’s care, our passion. I think a lot of the ways we differ are just different manifestations of our passion. We’re both very devoted, and it comes out differently sometimes, but it has the same root.”
Regulus warmed from the inside out. James was right—he was usually right, so strangely insightful, which irked Regulus to no end. He kissed him soundly. “Yeah, a lot of it is just different forms of love.” And neither of them lacked love—not in any way; it was practically bleeding out of them, they were pushing all of their love into each other and into everything they cared about. Their love was a privilege—a privilege in having and giving, they were lucky to be recipients of such a profound thing.
february microfics found on ao3: february, i'm yours.
im still obsessed with this video
Men will play tennis against each other for 13+ years just to avoid admitting they want to fuck.