#its basically how i go about my poetry so

[faaun]

Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship

[quarterlifekitty]

Hey girly!!!

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYFDakF3/

I saw this cute tiktok post and thought that it could possibly work for Selectively mute reader x Simon (and Soap).

Maybe Simon surprises her with these magnets on the fridge on day and he leaves her a note/poem. And it transforms into this big thing that they do for each other.

When he’s deployed the fridge is filled with them and he sits and reads them and writes them in a little book he has so he can always have them with him.

To be forreal I don’t have a tiktok so I can’t view the whole video but this idea is so cute!! And I am so touched that you saw a video and thought of my silly posts 😭

I do think their fridge is fucking covered in so many things. Lot of saved takeout menus and tv guides and stuff. And you know these two quiet bitches are in a note writing household!!! They are a post-it family!! A memo pad relationship!!

And while Simon isn’t normally overly sentimental with physical things (he has much more attachment to ritual and routine), he never throws out any of those fuckin notes man. Not ever. Like some of them are so banal. “Low on oat milk” n shit. I imagine that she writes in cursive, and so he traces the words as a grounding technique. Keeps a note folded up in his wallet all the time, replaces it when the paper starts basically disintegrating from how much his thumb has rubbed over it.

And the rest of the 141 thinks it’s kinda fuckin funny. Ghost, who has made a reputation out of being silent, forming no attachments, and they go to his place and it’s like “Ye got a fridge under all this shite, LT?” Because it’s almost comical how many things are on it.

And you know a neurodivergent king and queen love the patented sitting on the floor doing a repetitive activity!!! So they use those word magnets together, sometimes it’s poetry, other times it’s stupid jokes, sometimes it’s about as dirty as they can manage with the words that came in the set (which is funny to them in its own right).

I think he does write them down, but he also takes some instant photos of them sometimes. How she arranged the words is just as important to him as the words she ended up picking. He likes noting that sometimes the magnets are aligned perfectly and pressed edge to edge, other times it looks more haphazard. It’s just more undeniable proof that someone out there is thinking of him, that he exists as an idea outside of his own mind, and that’s very special to him.

[matan4il]

Holocaust survivor Theodor Adorno never said that it's impossible to write poetry after Auschwitz, but he's often misquoted as if he did. I think it's because those of us who care about the Shoah, struggle with the idea of poetry after Auschwitz. The symbol of culture vs the epitome of violent cruel barbarism. Both connected to a nation considered highly civilized. The art dedicated to describing vs an absolute hell that is indescribable.

For me, the poetry that was written about the Holocaust is at its most authentic expression when the sentences break down, like in Dan Pagis' poem Written with a Pencil in the Sealed Train Car, whose one sentence never ends. Most of all, I feel it when I read Paul Celan's poem Death Fugue, where the sentences run on, and into, and away from each other. In such poems, the meaning is what survives the breaking down of this rather basic verbal structure.

It's October 7th again, which is weird because it marks an entire year of it being October 7th for Israelis and Jews.

On that October 7th, I wrote, I wrote facts because I had no words to describe all the things I was thinking and feeling, running on, and into, and away from each other inside me. A year later, I have even less words. And my sentences don't break down, to reflect what broke down for me, as I observed too many horrors perpetrated by terrorists, and too many out there celebrating the brutal rape, abuse and massacre of my people, and justifying it, and victim blaming civilian men, women, children and Holocaust survivors, and peddling antisemitic libels like their lives depended on how dehumanizing they can be to the Jews and the civilians of the Jewish state. My sentences don't break down, but a part of my heart and soul is forever broken.

And now, on top of everything else, the antisemitic mob is also appropriating October 7th, the day when we were massacred, making it all about another group. Despite the fact that the only Palestinians killed on Oct 7, 2023 were terrorists and not-innocent civilians who invaded Israel in order to loot, rape, maim, burn, torture and kill. Many Palestinians and antisemites were celebrating and spewing hate and falsely accusing the Jewish state of genocide on Oct 7, 2023 already (and for years before that. Their destruction of what that word means started way before Hamas' massacre). And on Oct 7, 2024 they won't even let us quietly break down, and run out of words, and try to find what meaning survives these atrocities and continued antisemitic global abuse, and remember our victims, the people butchered in the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, and those who died trying to defend us from that in this war which we did not start, and the victims targeted or raped or murdered in the many anti-Israel, antisemitic terrorist attacks and hate crimes that took place over the last year.

That's before we get into how on Oct 7, 2023 Jews were targeted and victimized, and for some reason, that translated into the horrific reality that on Oct 7, 2024 Jews are being warned to be careful, because we're going to be targeted today, too.

And I want to say something. I want to say so many somethings. With all the feelings and thoughts inside me. With the generational trauma that's had to witness 'Never Again' appropriated and weaponized against the people who first gave birth to this phrase out of the depths of the indescribable hell they survived.

But I just don't have enough - because there are not enough - words.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[enviedear]

hey Olivia talk about Jason and love letters pls

i can never say no to you, not like i'd say no to rambling about jason lmao!! link here to what inspired this <3

swing by my askbox 🧸ྀི

basically, i think believe that jason would be not only the best at writing love letters but also the most genuine about it. to him, they come from a place of utter devotion. in my hc, i think he'd just really struggle with getting his words out. he hates the way they sound, that they never fully convey what he means, that he stops himself more than he allows himself to speak, and mostly, he cannot handle the pressure of a time constraint. even if someone were to give him all the time in the world to open up, his chest would still get tight and his throat would feel scratchy and raw. jason todd is a victim of analysis paralysis there i said it.

no—he NEEDS another outlet, another form of communication. so he writes. he always loved reading, annotating in the margins—now he does it to his own words. At first, he doesn't even count what he writes as love letters. he's not waxing poetry, he's just explaining his fucked up perspective because you deserve to know. you deserve to be privy to whatever's going on in his head. he fails (for a while) to understand that is love, the very crux of it. the devotion to spend his free time explaining what his mouth refuses to say is love in its purest form.

his words are sweet too, no matter what he's writing. he knows his audience, you. his letters always start the same, with the salutation of 'sweetheart' and an "i love you." sometimes, all that's written is a long run-on about how he feels, how overwhelmed he is. other times, it's reminders of how much you mean to him, how happy you make him. and of course, quotes.

i am a firm believer that jason todd quotes his favorite books (modern and classic) so you better assume he's throwing in quotes that remind him of you. things like "what does money matter? love is more than money." from dorian grey after you had confessed to feeling bad about him spending money on you, or "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." from emma after an argument rooted in his apprehension for sharing, and "I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes." makes a common appearance. you're unsure as to why he quotes shakespeare so much, especially that line—but he's not. he knows it's the truest cohesion of words he could possibly find to explain to you just how crucial you are to him. detrimental even.

but it's not always super intense—a lot of the times it's simple letters. letters hung up on the fridge, on the dryer, in your car, even scattered little love notes in your purse/wallet. things like, "washed your clothes. you really need new leggings, i put money on the counter." / "changed your oil. remind me again in six months. i love you." / "missed you this morning. i'm coming home with dinner, your favorite. i love you."

where other men fail to find a form of communication that works for them, jason todd exceeds. besides, he's seen death once and he's not meeting it again without you knowing just how much he absolutely adores you. if he can't be here forever to give you the love he's practically overflowing with, at least the letters can outlive him. he'd like to be remembered that way—just by his saccharine sentiments for you

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @ 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 (𝐦𝐞)

[bitethedevil]

I swear, I’m minutes away from pulling out a giant bulletin board and covering it in pieces of string that connect Rafael to every single event in the game. I feel like a crazy person, but I know that he basically spiderwebbed most of the plot together.



Goddamn it, anon (said lovingly). Now I feel like making my own too. Because I swear, he pops up all over the place, even just for stuff that’s not even plot relevant.

Spot the Devil: Raphael's Involvement in the plot

I’ll start out with letters and books I’ve found that made me go “hmmmm”.

Letter in the Harpy Nest (Maybe)

When you’ve saved Mirkon he mentions something about a nest nearby. If you get to it there is a ring, a journal, and a letter. The letter is what made me go “hmm”. You can read the full thing here. Basically, a guy named Edmund tells wife/girlfriend that she doesn’t have to worry about someone named Maggie Two-Fingers anymore, because he has settled a debt. To pay off said debt, he makes a deal with a cambion and becomes a warlock:

”[…] I took the deal the cambion offered. I'm not going to say I had no choice, because that would be a lie. But I don't regret it. I'm a new man. I feel strong for the first time in my life. Aside from being awoken in the middle of the night by the smell of sulphur (he likes to drop by to 'see how everything is going') I have no complaints […]”

Now, there was a journal too, but I don’t believe the two things were related, even though the journal talks about a devil too. From what I can see, the journal is an easter egg for a campaign called ‘Tomb of Annihilation’. Besides, Edmund is going to Icewind Dale and the campaign takes place in Chult.

It just makes sense to me if its Raphael. We know he hangs out near the grove because we get jumpscared by him before going to this area. It could be our boy and with how much he pops up constantly it wouldn’t surprise me.

A Pleasurable Deal (Maybe)

You can pry this theory from my cold dead hands: Raphael was involved in making this play. It stinks of him.

So, A Pleasurable Deal is an erotic play. The plot isn’t completely written out, but a cambion, who is named Carlisle in the play, is involved.

“Carlisle: Weep not, young man, though free your wife has fled,

And comfort found in comrade's arms and bed.

She licks her lips and cries his name, oh my!

And now you seek to be the apple of her eye?”

Carlisle basically helps a man named Robert get a bigger dick, or…something along those lines. The ”apple of her eye” line is just so Raphael. The whole thing is, to be honest. In the A Pleasurable Deal: The Shocking Truth, it’s revealed that the author sold her soul to make it:

“Interviewer: So .. what was your deal?

Harp: I beg your pardon?

Interviewer: In fact, this was your directorial debut, wasn't it? You couldn't even get published in the tabloid 'Baldur's Bash' before this play came out. Did you honestly trade your soul for an erotic play?

Harp: I- all right, we're done here.”

I mean, come on. This is so him. It’s right up his alley.

Devil Don’t Rhyme

This is a book you can find in the Devil’s Den. Devil Don’t Rhyme is definitely about him:

“[This is a heroic fantasy in verse form, told in the first person by a bold poet who challenges a devil (clearly modelled on Raphael) to an improvised poetry contest to win back the soul of his lover. The following couplet has been circled in red ink.]

'If the line doesn’t scan,' the devil sneers, 'you forfeit your soul and end in tears.' / 'Ha! I’ll keep my time and make my rhyme, with vim and snap and no "down came the claw" crap.'”

Which is just so fucking funny to me. He has been seething and underlining the parts that prove it’s about him.

Alright, onto actual events: Netheril

Raphael was there when Netheril fell. He told us in the Devil’s Den. He has been searching for the Crown of Karsus ever since. He saw the entirety of Karsus’s fuck-up, but didn’t manage to snatch up the Crown of Karsus itself. We do know, however, that he has other Netherese artifacts (the Archivist says so). The Regalia of Karsus were three objects and Raphael has at least one, meaning that if Raph gets the crown, he has a much bigger chance at actually controlling it and using it like it's supposed to be used. This might also be why Mephistopheles hasn't used it: he doesn't have the other artifacts to properly harness its powers.

There are also theories that he has been skulking about and trying to find it after. There’s a really well written theory by @firlionemoontav that connects him to Lenore from the Arcane Tower in the Underdark. He has left no stone unturned.

Orpheus and Vlaakith

I learned about this from an amazing theory post made by @certifieddilfenjoyer

When you go to the Astral Plane, near Orpheus, there is this Githyanki slate that you can find. It depicts Vlaakith making a deal with a Devil, “his face twisted with wry charm”, for the Astral prism. Yeah, Orpheus’ imprisonment? Raphael helped with that. He even taunts Orpheus while he waits for us to approach him and says something about him looking good in chains or something along those lines (kinky old man yaoi).

And honestly, it makes perfect sense as to why he has the hammer then. The hammer has multiple purposes, but in About Creation of the Orphic Hammer he mentions it as “insurance policy”:

“The Hammer is not a weapon, it is an insurance policy. Its function is specific, but its utility is boundless. No chains forged by infernal hand can withstand its power, for its core is a metalifferous compound combining the purest of essence of all Nine hells. If I should ever need to liberate the prisoners held in the Iron City of Dis, to shatter the vaults of Nargus, or even to free the child of Gith, my hammer will be equal to the task.”

Makes good sense because what he has done with the Astral Prism is a pretty big deal and hard to undo otherwise.

Moonrise Towers, the Gauntlet of Shar and Astarion

So, Raphael makes a deal with the architect of Moonrise Towers, who you also see wandering around the House of Hope. The architect gives up his soul in exchange for Raphael ending Ketheric’s army.

To do that, he sends Yurgir who is tasked with killing every last justiciar. Raphael then makes a deal with one of the justiciars who he then turns into a bunch of rats so that Yurgir can’t fulfill his contract.

We then help Yurgir or kill him, and Raphael helps us with Astarion’s scars. (This is just me theorizing from here) I find it kind of interesting that Raphael seems to know so much about Astarion. You get the feeling that he has obviously done his research on all of the companions, but with Astarion he makes that nasty “you’ve kept your clothes on this entire time? How unlike you” comment. Astarion would be such an easy target to go after, which makes me believe that Raph definitely knew beforehand about Astarion AND Mephistopheles’ deal with Cazador, but he hasn’t been able to pettily do something about it before the things that happen in BG3. But he has kept an eye on it. He can’t be seen defying his father like that directly, after all. I just find it hard to believe that Raph wouldn't jump at the business opportunity of 7000 desperate vampires hiding in Baldur's Gate. Like he definitely knows.

Gortash

Raphael bought Gortash from his parents when he was a kid, and Gortash eventually got out. It’s quite possible that Gortash only knew about the Crown of Karsus because of Raphael. He even went through Raphael’s house to steal the crown (and probably took a portal from there to Cania).

Might also be the only reason that he would ever make a deal with Zariel. He knows the Hells and how they work. In a way its even more of a “fuck you” that he goes to Zariel because she is far above Raphael as she is the Archdevil of Avernus (and thus she is sort of Raph’s boss). We also don't know what Gortash gets in return for handing Karlach to Zariel. It's speculated that it has something to do with the construction of the Steel Watch, but it wouldn't surprise me if peace from Raphael was a part of it too.

A world without Raphael

So, basically: had Raphael not been there, Orpheus would be free and a whole people would have had very different lives under someone else than the Vlaakiths, because Orpheus would have rebelled and told everyone what she did to Gith (his mother). We wouldn’t have had the Astral Prism to protect us, but on the other hand, we might not even have had the whole tadpole business to deal with anyway if Gortash didn’t know where the Crown of Karsus was. The whole thing could literally have been avoided.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[nu1lst4rs]

doodled human designs for a few neutral aus! (pt.1)

(click for better quality)

can you tell i lost motivation... thank you to chandr for doing the last 3's lineart for me. legit couldn't get freshs colours to fit with the rest. eugh. its the best you're going to get out of us for these guys.

Nightmares gang, star sanses, neu au pt.2, extras

COLOUR, CLASSIC, PAPYRUS, EPIC and ANY REQUESTS will be in the next neu au post 3_^ so please please request me to draw neutral peoples... gonna open general requests in a separate post.

some hcs under the cut!

warning for alot... i mean.. alot of text..

> Ccino (he/they)

indian... ccino... mbghbgb. MAINLY BECAUSE I WAS EATING GULAB JAMUNS AND I WAS LIKE "huh this reminds me of ccino."

trans masc! you should be more surprised if someone wasn't trans at this point

just for individuality, i feel like he'd have cat features. toe beans, tail, but no ears. personal preference.

hopeless romantic. wants to fall in love so bad, like so bad. but doesn't have anyone to fall in love with.

his AU is a neutral where the player killed all bosses. because of this, ink had offered them a pocket AU with just their cafè. ccino still visits their old au from time to time, but otherwise lives in the cafè.

one of the youngest AU's/sanses, only a few hundred years old

> error (he/they/xe)

spanish + colombian

as a divergence from classic, he maintains a similar body shape. also the fact he eats nothing but chocolate.

^ similarly, his eye is covered by a star glitch. xe never equates this to the fact they were geno, and just see it as some weird cool glitch.

rocks an alliance with both NM and dream, so wears both the stars pin and gangs patch. he always choses the side of who benefits him the most in that moment. neither of the groups are happy about it, but see error as too valuable to deny.

has arthritis and bad joints. his strings usually dig into his fingers, causing scaring and pain. (bsp related: he gets taught how to relieve these pains by nms gang because they all have chronic pains of some kind)

taking strings from his eyes is PAINFUL. its basically his unraveled code and magic combined, glitching and stuttering.

illiterate. he cannot read anything but code.

brother of ink. annoying brothers that HATE eachother. but love eachother at the same time.

> cross (they/he)

spanish. it fits him. and its relatively canon.

cross is indecisive. they've jumped between nightmares gang and the stars several times, easily being swayed. as of my AU right now, they're with the stars.

they're colourblind! their AU was monochrome, and thats how they see everything. everything is just a shade of purple. he's never told people about it, but most people catch onto ir.

autism. cross has horrible sensory issues, and gets overwhelmed easily. also bad at social queues.

THIS MAN IS THE DEFINITION OF DOG POETRY. they would go on pinterest daily and cry about it.

is a great artist. ink taught him the basics when they were stuck in the void, so they built on it. they're really self conscious about it, and keep their sketchbook locked away tightly. (in their bedside drawer)

> reaper (he/him)

egytpian. i feel like he'd embody their idea of dying.

bird claws. bird wings. everything bird.

seen as a parental figure to dream and nightmare because of his extensive knowledge of the universe and balance n all that.

(THE GAY FLAG WAS A MISTAKE) he's bi. and loves his wife. (life)

aroace spec! completely ace, and demiromantic.

sorry guys i dont have the best hcs for him 💔

> geno (he/they)

spanish + colombian

needs a portable oxygen tube to breath. he can live without it, but its really painful to not have it.

some parts of his body are decomposed, while others are held together through determination. practically constant agony.

same reasoning as error for body shape.

> fresh (they/it)

parasite. its ass doesn't have a race nor nationality.

not the hotest with a few sanses. dream and nightmare don't like someone demeanour not being affected in the slightest by the amount of pain and agony they're in. error hates how the code overlaps and glitches. and overall they're just a bit crazy.

wears either heelies or rollerskates. refuses to EVER walk anywhere, and always rolls.

i don't got much for him.

eugh. i am so sorry if the hcs are lazy, i am not good hcing with aus im not familiar with. if anyone wants to input please do! i'd love to learn about them. <3 anyways i am sleeping because i need to stop staying up till 4am..

[sugaryplum]

broken ankles and middle names

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader summary: after a silly accident involving the hogwarts' infuriating moving stairs, you're found by a certain quiet boy (whom you not-so-secretly adore). warnings: no good exposition whatsoever, language mistakes, chaotic+flirty reader i want to be her!!! notes: this is part of a bigger story that i will probably never finish writing, let alone publish, so if it seems completely out of context, that's why. this is also the first thing on this tumblr blog and the first written thing i'm ever showing to tumblr besides poetry!!🤭 i hope you like it 🤍 let me know

“what on earth happened to you?”

the situation is silly and absurd, so you laugh, despite the sharp pain that almost makes your eyes water. theo is kneeling beside you with a confused expression on his face, looking from your swollen ankle to your face.

“can you help me to the hospital wing? i can’t walk.”

all you have to do is look at him and he carefully picks you up from the cold floor. you put your arms around his neck for support. “i was walking up the stairs. and then the stairs moved. and then i fell. you know, i’m glad you’re here, there’s not a single soul on the corridors at this time of day, i was just going to get some books, i have free period–”

“you should watch where you’re walking.” his voice sounds like honey and if you weren’t basically laying in his arms right now, your knees would definitely go weak. but you act unbothered. “maybe i should’ve. but then you wouldn’t carry me. maybe this is a win after all.”

“you’re infuriating.” the small smile that cracks on his face doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when you can see his lips from up close.

“infuriating is my middle name.” there’s a lot of things you can see from up close. his eyelashes are long and he has more freckles than you thought. you like how the ends of his hair twist and fall on his forehead.

“annoying.”

“middle name.”

“stop with the middle names.”

after no more than a minute of silence you speak up again. “you’re so quiet.”

“you think so?” a normal person who doesn’t talk to theodore on the daily basis, probably wouldn’t be able to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. but you are not a normal person. you pay way too much attention.

you come up with a response and giggle before you even get the chance to say it. “you could say that quiet is your middle nam–”

“if i dropped you right now, i bet you'd be whining like crazy.”

“there’s no need to test that.” you hold on to his neck a little tighter. “besides, you’re lucky i’m not whining right now. i’m in enormous amounts of pain.”

“i can tell. your ankle is twice its normal size.”

“you seem to know my ankles pretty well.” theo chuckles more audibly at your words and your heart flutters.

“that's my secret. i've been staring at them since fifth year.”

you gasp, pretending to be shocked. “i never knew my ankles were so desirable! now you got me worried, that fall might’ve been a threat to my beauty…”

“oh, very much so. you're lucky you had me there to carry you and take care of you in such a tragic moment.”

you never thought hogwarts' insanely big castle was exactly convenient. you’re constantly late for classes, walking takes up half of your daily life and you never know what is creeping around the corner. but now, when you’re being carried through it by the boy you like so much, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise?

“how far away is that wing?” you ask in a whiny tone just to get this attention, but in your mind and in your heart you thank merlin for the long corridors.

“don't you dare even start to complain now, after i carried you all this way.”

“i’m not complaining about you, i’m complaining about the castle. although i’m sure i could find some complaints about you…”

“oh?” he looks at you, slightly amused. “go ahead, do your worst.”

“well, for starters, you make weird comments about my ankles.”

“your ankles are my favorite thing about you.”

“that’s an insult.”

“you’re an insult.”

“MIDDLE NAME.”

he sighs and he calls you insufferable and you smile. you can expect the hospital wing right around the corner, but you wouldn’t mind staying in the pretty boy’s arms for a little longer.

[coeurcanelle]

Hold my heart even if it's cold pt1

pairing: surfer!ellie x reader

fluff,sad ending

masterlist

you want to try a new sport to fight boredom this summer. You meet Ellie who's a surfer. She teaches you how to ride the waves but not how to fight their embrace

The waves rose and fell, their rhythm steady like the beating of a heart. The sun kissed the horizon, spilling liquid gold across the ocean’s surface. Among the endless blue, she stood, a silhouette against the shimmering expanse, balanced gracefully on her board. Every movement was poetry in motion — the curve of her body as she leaned into a wave, the spray of water cascading like diamonds when she turned.

You watched from the shore, your toes buried in the cool sand.

The wind tugged at her auburn hair, and you squinted against the sun’s brilliance to follow the surfer’s form. There was something hypnotic about her, something magnetic. She wasn’t just riding the waves; she was part of them, as though the ocean itself had chosen her.

You gathered all the courage you could muster, determined not to let another boring summer slip by. Not when the sun above promised brighter days, and certainly not when the chance to meet someone as talented as her had just appeared before you.

She emerged from the water, shaking her hair free of droplets. A few specks splashed onto your swimsuit.

With your heart pounding, you finally asked, "Teach you? I've never taught anyone before. Are you a beginner? Never ridden a wave at all?"

Her emerald eyes locked with yours, searching for the reason behind your request.

"I know how to swim."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, her smile both warm and knowing. Not only was she amazing, but her voice had a melody all its own.

"I mean, we all start somewhere," she said, setting her surfboard down beside her, then scratching behind her neck.

Surfing was her passion, but she’d never shared it with anyone. Too precious, too personal.

"Please, I can pay you if you want. 10 per hour?"

She caught the hint of desperation in your voice, and you winced inwardly, realizing the first impression you were giving this cool surfer.

"10?" she laughed. "That’s all I get?"

"That’s all I have..." you lied. Of course, you had more, but you hadn’t expected to spend so much of your money on surfing lessons when you woke up this morning.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

"15?" you suggested, but she crossed her arms, unimpressed.

Was she really that thirsty for money?

"20?" you sighed, mentally counting how much would vanish from your wallet by the end of the afternoon.

"Deal."

A weight lifted from your chest in relief as she extended her hand. You shook it firmly.

It wasnt a waste of money. It was the promise of good times and new timeless memories.

You waded in together, the waves curling around you like curious whispers.

She told you her name was Ellie. She talked you through the basics, her voice a soothing cadence against the crash of the surf. You wobbled on the board, your balance shaky, but Ellie was always there, steadying you with a hand on your arm or an encouraging smile.

A wave was forming a bit further out ,Ellie's eyes sparkled with excitement. The adrenaline rushing through her veins and her heart plumping with anticipation. She never got enough of this feeling.

"Ready to do this one ?" She turned to you with a smirk.

The wave wasn’t going to get too big—perfect for a beginner like you to put the theories she’d taught you into practice.

You nodded and shot back a smirk,matching her energy.

"Remember,just relax and dont think about it too much."she laid flat on her board and began paddling toward the wave,you mirrored her,your heart beating with anticipation and a tiny bit of nervousness. "And if you don't succeed now you can....succeed later than originally planned"

You could tell she wasn’t sure how to ease the weight pressing on your chest, but the intention behind her words made your heart feel lighter, warm against the chill of the water.

"It’s just a small wave, not a tsunami."

She chuckled, her smile growing wider. "I know, I’m just saying."

You paddled harder, the rhythm of your strokes matching the beat of your pulse. As the wave came closer, you could feel the swell beneath you, a force of nature that was both thrilling and intimidating. Ellie surged ahead, her body leaning into the wave with confidence. She was a perfect blend of grace and power, carving through the water like it was second nature.

You followed suit, catching the wave, your board gliding smoothly as it picked up speed. The water rushed beneath you, the world narrowing into just you and the wave. For a split second, you felt the magic of it—like you were one with the ocean, the wave supporting you as you moved with it.

But then, as the wave began to crest, you lost your balance, your feet shifting too late. The board wobbled beneath you, and before you knew it, you were tumbling into the water.

You resurfaced, breathless but okay, your arms floating back to the board as you admired Ellie. She was still on the wave, her movements fluid and effortless, carving her way down the line like she owned the ocean.

It felt so natural for her, feeling the force of the waves beneath her feet propulsing her forwards. No matter how much she's lost in her life,she still believed in the unbreakable bond she had with the ocean.

She finished her ride, then paddled back toward you, her grin wide. "Just a small wave, huh?"

The hours slipped by effortlessly, and you wouldn’t mind if they stretched into days. Ellie gave you more tips, sharing everything she wished she had known as a beginner.

Watching you struggle to stay steady on the board reminded her of her early days surfing, when each fall made her swear she’d quit. But seeing you laugh, your unwavering determination to learn, made her want to teach you everything she knew about the ocean.

One day, she'd take you to her favorite spots on the beach, but for now, it was time for you to go. Every great moment had its bittersweet end.

"That's gonna make 60 for you. For three hours," she said, grinning.

You stopped in your tracks, turning toward her. "What?"

"Twenty bucks an hour, you said." You thought she was joking about that earlier.

"Oh, right—the money." You walked back out of the water, sitting down on the beach before reaching for your bag and pulling out your wallet.

It was filled with an unnecessary amount of coins, but the bills were another story.

"Are you sure that’s 60?" you asked, looking up at her with an apologetic smile, hoping for a discount.

"Well, two times three equals six, and if you add a zero, that makes sixty." You rolled your eyes at her teasing tone.

"Five-year-old math," she shrugged, her smirk returning.

You didn't know she could be such a tease.

"Isn’t that too much money for you?"

Her smirk widened into a smile as she laughed.

"Too much?"

It was short, but it sounded so good—light and soothing, like wind chimes in a summer breeze.

Her eyes dropped to your hand, still holding your wallet. "Just say you wanted to steal from me."

Your eyes widened. That wasn’t your intention at all. All you wanted was to have fun and learn something new. And Ellie had been so kind in teaching you. Getting into trouble now, when you’d just met her, was the last thing you wanted.

"Noo, I just don’t have that much right now. I promise I’ll pay you back," you said, hoping she wouldn’t press the issue or, worse, tell you to never come back to learn surfing again.

She looked at you, and this time, you couldn’t read her expression.

Did you mess up that badly?

Then the silence broke, and she laughed again.

"What’s so funny?" you asked, your confusion only making her laugh harder.

"I don’t care about money," she said, a playful glint in her eyes. "I was just messing with you."

She finally stopped laughing, and you met her gaze, searching for any trace of sarcasm or mischief.

"You weren’t laughing at my misery?"

Ellie blinked in surprise. Her? Laughing at you being broke?

"What? No—I'm not like that. Really, I was just messing with you. It’s free. You don’t owe me anything," she reassured you, noticing the way you were studying her. It seemed you were falling harder than she had expected.

"For real?" you asked, still unsure.

"Yeah, you don’t need to pay me." Ellie shrugged. Usually, people would get her jokes easily but if you were that easy to fool, she won't stop with you.

You sighed in relief and put your wallet back in your purse. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun for free. But now, the sun was dipping low, making way for the moon and a fresh night.

Ellie stood there, waiting until you were ready to leave. She didn’t want this moment to fade too quickly into a memory. She wanted to see you again.

"Tomorrow? Same time?" she suggested, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

You smiled, realizing you’d get to spend time with her again.

"Only for free."

You winked at her as you said goodbye, leaving her standing there.

To Ellie, this wasn’t really free. Your charm, the way you made her heart flutter, cost more than anything.

And that was enough for her.

♧°♧°♧

It quickly became a habit—the thrill of riding the waves and the quiet joy of spending time with the freckled-face girl.

Afternoon after afternoon, Ellie would offer little tips to help you improve your balance, and once you had the basics down, she'd teach you how not to let the waves carry you away.

Each day, you learned more—not only about mastering the surf but about the ocean itself. She showed you how to listen to the whispers of the water beneath you, how to sense the ebb and flow of the tides before they even began to form.

“See that?” she asked, her voice calm but excited. “The waves are forming closer together, and the water’s pulling back faster than usual. That’s a sign of a high tide coming in.”

You furrowed your brow, trying to see what she saw. She smiled happy to freely share her passions knowing you wouldnt judge her in return. Seeing the pure interest shining in your eyes filled an empty spot she didnt know existed in her heart.

“Feel this?” she said dipping her hand in the water. “It’s cooler here, near the surface. That means the tide’s pushing deeper currents upward. And see how the waves get steeper, almost like they’re rushing to the shore? That’s because the water level’s rising. It’s like the ocean’s inhaling.”

You tilted your head, amazed by her ability to read the water like a book. “How do you know all this?”

She chuckled softly, her freckles catching the golden light. “I’ve been watching the ocean my whole life. It talks to you if you’re willing to listen. The way it moves, the way it feels—it’s like it’s letting you in on a secret. You just have to pay attention.”

From then on, every wave, every pull of the current, felt like a story waiting to be told. And with Ellie as your guide, you began to understand that the ocean wasn’t just a force to conquer—it was something to connect with, to respect, to love.

Soon, your laughter shifted into sighs of exasperation. Normally, you would have packed up your things and left the beach, thanking her for the private lessons before heading home.

But when she saw you pulling your clothes over your swimsuit, gathering your towel and bag, ready to go, she felt the sting of missing you already.

So, she offered to buy you a drink at the beachside bar—anything to keep you there just a little longer before the day slipped away into memory.

You didn’t even notice when the moon began taking the sun’s place as you sat with her, listening to stories of her early days as a surfer—the shadows of her struggles and the light of her triumphs. You forgot the soft, rhythmic crash of the waves, their sound melting into the melody of her laughter, or the way her voice would rise with excitement and pure delight.

You never imagined someone could be as beautiful as the ocean, as radiant as the sun, and that this same person would take an interest in someone like you.

Ellie was both a talker and a listener.

She’d rest her head on her hand, listening intently as you spoke about life beyond summer, the weight of your studies, and the dull rhythm of university days. Then, she’d watch your eyes light up when you talked about the hobbies that kept you going.

She’d lift her head, her smile reaching from ear to ear, as she shared that she loved the same things.

It wasn’t hard to make her smile.

But it was almost impossible not to let your heart melt when you saw it.

And soon, you found yourself lost in it—lost in her words as she wandered off into stories about her collection of PS4 games and the list of new ones she still wanted to play.

You could listen to her talk for hours. You weren’t exaggerating. She had that rare ability to talk about anything and somehow make it sound fascinating. But soon, Ellie ran out of things to say, and she didn’t want the silence to settle between you like an awkward wave.

Then, out of nowhere, a joke she had heard long ago popped into her head.

You raised an eyebrow as you watched her suddenly turn away, her body shaking as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your hand instinctively finding its way to her back.

She turned back to you, meeting your concerned and confused gaze. She bit her lip, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Yeah, I just thought of something. Sorry."

You pulled your hand away, crossing your arms instead. "Are you going to spill the tea or keep laughing like a psycho who forgot to take their meds?"

And then you heard it again. Her melodic laugh, this time louder and a bit goofier. You couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about your ridiculous falls earlier, every time you wiped out on the smallest wave.

"It’s really stupid," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "I don’t even remember where I heard it."

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile,wanting to hear the stupidest sentence slipping through her lips.

"Okay..." she said, finally calming herself down, clearing her throat as if gathering every ounce of willpower to keep her words from turning into gibberish.

"Why did uranus start a diet?"Her smile was widening by the second.

You heard something else.

"My what?"you asked.

She couldn't hold it back any longer, and the genuine confusion on your face only made it worse.

"The planet ! Oh my god" she corrected, and this time, you joined in the laughter. You really should head home and get some sleep—tomorrow’s instructions would be hard to understand if you kept this up.

"The planet," she repeated, still chuckling, determined to finish the joke. "Uranus. Why did it start a diet?"

You wiped a tear from your eye. "I don’t know..."

"Because it was tired of its gas-tronomic problem!" The pitch of her voice rose, and the effect was immediate.

You both couldn’t stop laughing. Her laughter was so contagious, and the whole scene played back in your mind like a loop. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the alcohol, or just her, but your laughter blended together, unstoppable.

This caught the attention of the bartender and other random people, who were quietly enjoying their drinks. You stopped, feeling their eyes on you, whispers rising as you disturbed the quiet atmosphere.

Ellie gradually calmed herself, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"Why, of all things, were you thinking about this now?" you asked, earning a final chuckle from her.

"At least I’m keeping the conversation going," she said, finishing the last of her drink. You couldn’t help but notice the graceful movement of her neck as she swallowed.

"You have terrible jokes," you teased.

"It only gets worse," she replied, reaching for another bottle. She poured both your glasses, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Wanna hear another one?"

This was going to be a long night.

♧°♧°♧

You were a fast learner—Ellie herself had told you so. With each day, you grew more confident on the board. Your falls became rarer, and the number of waves you rode successfully increased steadily. You might not be as skilled as Ellie yet, but it was enough to convince you to take surfing seriously.

So, instead of renting surfboards by the beach, you decided to buy one for yourself.

"Does green go better with blue or pink?" you asked, eyeing the display of surfboards before you. Ellie’s board was green, and you wanted to match with hers.

"I don’t know… blue?" she replied, standing beside you. She hadn’t been so picky when she bought her own board. To her, it was all about durability and the ability to flow with the water.

But she noticed you were considering more than just practicality. The boards now seemed to carry a higher standard in your eyes.

"I'll get pink, then," you decided, grabbing the pink surfboard in front of you, already imagining the rush of riding high with her by your side.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Why’d you ask me if you already made your choice?"

"Just wanted to see if you had good taste," you smirked, turning toward the cashier.

"Green goes with blue. I’ll die with that on my grave," she said, shaking her head.

You paid and left the shop with Ellie, mentally noting not to rely on her color advice in the future.

With a teacher like Ellie, there was no room for regression—your skills grew steadily, carving a flawless path of progress.

You finally understood why she loved it so much.

In just a few weeks,surfing had become your own kind of addiction, a rush you couldn’t imagine leaving behind when summer ended. The roar of the waves, the electric pull of their power, and the art of dancing in their embrace—no matter how often you did it, it never lost its magic.

As excitement rushed through your veins,you grabbed your handbag and your towel,parking your car near the beach and walking to your usual spot with your surfboard in hand.

There she was,right where she belonged.

Ellie floated above the water as though she were part of it, her auburn hair catching the breeze and glowing under the sunlight.

She’d just conquered a high tide, her board slicing through the foam with precision, and now the ocean was building something bigger, something grander.

Her eyes swept over the beach, briefly searching. She didn’t need long to find you. You were always there, never late, planted firmly on the sand, captivated by the freckled-face girl who seemed born for the waves.

Spotting you, Ellie flashed her trademark smirk, the one she knew kept your gaze locked on her. With practiced ease, she stretched out on her board, her movements deliberate and smooth as she began paddling toward the rising wall of water.

As the wave loomed behind her, its crest curling into a powerful arc, Ellie positioned herself perfectly. The water surged forward, and she caught it effortlessly, standing in a smooth motion. Her balance was flawless as the wave seemed to rise around her, towering and mighty.

Ellie moved with it as if she were one with the tide.

She carved sharp turns into the water, each motion sending sprays of foam into the air, the sunlight catching every droplet.

For a breathtaking moment, she disappeared into the wave’s barrel, only to emerge flying out the other side, her board skimming the surface like it had wings.

She rode it all the way to the shore, coming to a slow stop just in front of you, careful not to splash your swimsuit. Water glistened on her skin as she shot you a playful grin.

"are you gonna join me or what?"she asked the thrill of her ride subsiding with the soft crushes of the waves behind her. Her eyes trailed down your body,before landing on your hand.

She took it, fingers intertwining with yours, pulling you toward the water, but you stopped her. "C’mon."

"The water's cold. Gotta wait"you protested

"Seriously?"She groaned rolling her eyes her impatience growing by the second.

The small waves reached your ankles, their cold touch sending a shiver through you.

But Ellie didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, she pointed behind you with her free hand. "Seagulls!"

You turned around, but there were no seagulls. By the time you realized, she had scooped you up in her arms and was running toward the cold water.

"Ellie! Wait, plea-"

Bubbled came out of your mouth as she threw you into the water.

It was cold,enveloping you instantly, stealing the warmth from your skin in a shocking embrace. For a moment, everything was muffled—your gasp, the roar of the waves—but as you resurfaced, the sound of Ellie’s laughter broke through, loud and unapologetic.

She was doubled over, clutching her stomach as she pointed at you.

“What the fuck, Ellie?!” you sputtered, water streaming down your face.

“You said you had to wait,” she teased, barely able to speak through her laughter. “Figured you’d wait less if you were already in!” With that, she sent a playful splash of water your way.

Cold water.

"I'm gonna kill you"

"Woah im so so sca-"

Before she could react, you lunged, grabbing at her arm. She shrieked and laughed as you pulled her into the water with you, the two of you tumbling into the waves in a chaotic splash.

Ellie broke free, scrambling and half-swimming away as you burst into laughter.

The chase brought you deeper into the waves, where your feet could no longer touch the sandy bottom. The cool water tugged at your legs, a mix of resistance and freedom, as you propelled yourself toward Ellie. She glanced back, her grin widening as she realized you were closing in.

“got you !" you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around her waist.

Ellie let out a startled laugh, struggling to stay upright as your combined weight threatened to pull you both under.

Your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably as you both wrestled, a tangle of arms and legs, splashing and twisting to stay afloat. Every time you tried to find balance, another wave would crash over you, dragging you apart for a moment before you reconnected with a grip on her arm or shoulder.

“Ellie, I swear—” you sputtered between breaths, fighting to keep your head above water.

“I’m trying to breathe!” she choked out, laughing so hard she had to tread water just to stay up. “This is your fault!”

“My fault? You threw me in!”

The banter dissolved into giggles that turned frantic as your legs began to protest the effort. The ocean wasn’t forgiving to tired muscles, and the playful thrashing became slower, less coordinated.

“Okay, okay, truce,” Ellie said, her voice tinged with exhaustion but still light.

“Agreed,” you replied, feeling your legs give out beneath you.

Ellie grabbed your hand, and together you turned toward the shore, letting the waves push you gently forward. It wasn’t far, but each stroke felt heavier, the promise of solid ground pulling you on.

Finally, your feet brushed against the sand. Relief washed over you as you staggered out of the water, Ellie following close behind. The two of you collapsed onto the shore, the cool breeze contrasting with the warmth returning to your bodies.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just staring up at the clear sky, catching your breath. Then Ellie turned her head to look at you, her freckles standing out against her sun-kissed skin.

"Can't believe I almost died today because of you," you muttered, not tearing your eyes away from the vast sky above you.

"Dude, I just saved you. Would it kill you to say thanks?"

You didn’t respond—just to annoy her.

"Come on," Ellie whined, nudging your shoulder. You turned to her, her emerald eyes burning into yours, a challenge in them.

"Fine. Thank you. Just don't push me in the water when I’m not ready okay?" you said slowly, sitting up and brushing the sand from your body.

Her gaze lingered over you, taking in the soaked swimsuit, the wet strands of your hair, and the way your skin caught the light, glistening like something out of a dream. Only the tail was missing, but in that moment, she believed in mermaids.

She had to force herself to look away before she realized just how much you enchanted her. "Okay, okay. I won’t anymore. Promise."

She almost sealed it with a touch, reaching for your hand, but the moment she saw the soft smile tugging at your lips, a sudden shyness swept over her.

You didn’t need to be a mermaid to have her heart. And even if she lived in a world full of magic and fantasy, no alchemist’s strongest elixir could undo the way her heart raced for you.

Clearing her throat, she glanced away, trying to mask the spark dancing in her eyes. "Wouldn’t want you to drown and make me do mouth-to-mouth or anything."

A soft laugh escaped you, and she joined in, the sound blending with the rhythmic roll of the waves. The water, now gently lapping at your feet, wasn’t cold anymore—it was warm, almost comforting.

"Still cold?" she asked, standing and brushing the sand from her legs. Her eyes shone with impatience, a flicker of excitement dancing in them.

The waves weren’t going to ride themselves, after all.

"Nope," you replied, grabbing your surfboard and wading deeper into the water, following her as she paddled away from the shore.

You wouldn’t mind at all. If she had to do mouth-to-mouth to save you, you’d let the water pull you under willingly—just to feel the softness of her lips against yours.

But did she feel the pull too?

Maybe it was too soon to know.

Holding her heart felt like diving into the unknown, so for now, holding her hand as you both sailed through the waves was enough.

[hijackalx]

ASTARION NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

hes such a dick if ur a one night stand LMAO understandably tho. understandably..... but yeah if hes not really feeling u he just kind of dips out after coming up with some wack ass rehearsed excuse to protect ur feelings. totally different story if he loves u though. i feel like he gets sooo lovey-dovey post nut OMG like soo much praise and so many kisses. post nut clarity with his S/O consists of him enjoying the many wonders of the world 😭😭  that shit will have him watching the sunset

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

i think he likes his hands. i mean its one of the things he can see so like. but they are really nice. long and nimble fingers and smooth palms. his hands look like poetry lowkey. anyway if ur AFAB he loves titties. any titty. loves to mark them up and watch them bounce while u ride him. if ur AMAB its ur shoulder/collarbone area especially if its dainty and delicate looking but regardless he wants to bite around there. youll see him looking at them a lot

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he wants to come on ur face or inside u. his two go-tos. if hes about to nut he'll ask u really quick which u want and u have like 3 seconds to answer LMAO. takes a while to get to that point tho so u have some time to think about it beforehand 😭😭

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he got hard asf the first time u let him drink from u LMAOO he walked away and jerked off IMMEDIATELY

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

hundreds of years of experience is enough for me yeah

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

oooooooooooo gurl. ugh hold on theres so many it could be. ok so theres two. 1. he likes to sit u in his lap (the back of ur head on his shoulder or maybe even sitting sideways with ur legs off the side ??? idk however yall want) and finger/jerk u off. it makes him feel sooo in control 🤤 and 2. he lovesss eye contact so any positions where he can stare into ur soul 👁️👁️ yall why am i only seeing missionary rn...... or planking i guess lol

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i think hes pretty serious. he might even get pissed off if u start acting too goofy lol like hes playful but not going to start cracking jokes 😹😹

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

this pains me to say...... but i dont think elves get body hair if any (like canonically)....... but i think its weird to be completely bald so im going to say hes got a little bit of pubic hair, armpit hair, and of course leg/arm hair. its just not very long or thick. he basically never has to trim or anything

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

my boy is a romantic at heart yall. will kiss u a lot and hold u very close. i think its rlly important for him to have some sort of emotional connection thru sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

honestly dont feel like he ever does normally LMAO when u reject him or push him away during the first romance scene and he says he'll go beat off i think hes just saying that to make u feel bad 😹😭  when u let him drink from u it was probably the first time he jerked off in a longggg time. i can see him thinking hes above doing something like that lol so its an ego thing

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ok did u guys see the little church looking building at the first campsite in act 3??? i think if yall were to smash there he'd never forget it. like something about that turns him on so much. probably bent u over the altar. even after u guys are long gone he still thinks abt it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

suck on his fingers omg. but also really likes to use sex to put u in ur place so if u guys argue or just dont get along at some point he will use that as a build up to sex. so he will purposely push ur buttons A LOT. cuz its like, how dare u raise ur voice at him ?? 😤

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

if u dont go along with what he wants to do he kind of gets pissy after a while. he only ever really wants to be in control and thats it. also wont do anything extreme or ridiculous either 😭😭 anything that makes him feel humiliated is a big no

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

for AFAB like ive said before he is the self-proclaimed coochie eating champion of faerun. sooooo good at it its not funny. will also kiss it and leave more kisses/bites on ur thighs. makes u feel like ur coochie is the most divine coochie in the world LMAO omg also will want to eat u out every time ur on ur period......... i think thats like one thing he will absolutely beg for OOP

if ur AMAB its basically the same just with a dick lol

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he can do both. probably likes to be a little rougher than most people though

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

yeah if hes in the mood i can see him scouting the area for a place to smash LMAO which probably happens pretty often. doesnt mind giving up the romantic aspect as long as yall still fuck for real every once in a while.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i think he would need to be convinced. willing to hear u out at least

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

TOO LONG. HE LASTS WAY TOO LONG. i mean after u been suckin and fuckin for that many years how do u not take forever to nut 😭😭  u will get urs tho dont worry. also perfect situation for u to have multiple orgasms so dont get discouraged besties 🤘🏻

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

allllll the timeeeee. he wants u to need him more than anything else before he fucks u. u need to need this man like u need oxygen. like a fish needs water. like a plant needs the sun. like a

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

grunts and groans but when he gets closer to finishing he'll start moaning. he doesnt make an effort to stay quiet but also wont do anything embarrassing 😹

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

emmmmm i wanna say he can go a pretty long time without sex. but if he has a partner he is sexually attracted to his libido can be pretty high. but lets remember he is getting into his erectile dysfunction years ☝🏻 JOKINGGGG LMAO

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

well he meditates technically. but he gets into that lil meditation pose fast as fuck boy 🧘 do not interrupt him either he'll be grumpy 😭

[sotiredimbored]

mutual appreciation post

what i would get everyone for the holidays(not christmas bcuz holidays)

if this is basic asf i apologize i am currently exploding <3

also if i forgot you i am so soryr i forgive me please i am afraid(maybe im afraid of you and youre too cool)

@sweetest-thing-in-hell ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you an album (soryr i dont know you well but sabrina carpenter)

@mintbecrazy ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a camera like a vintage one

@woahg-i-am-thoroughly-confused ˋ°•*⁀➷ its your bday soon !! sorry mention of bdays anywho i would get you alien stage merch because i think you like that

@apjofan ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a mug that says "it will all be ok"

@emdabitchass ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you pjo merch

@just-another-starry-dreamer ˋ°•*⁀➷ at the comis store in the mall i always go to theres a litlte sign that says i am an unpaid therapist and id get you that

@that-willowtree ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you bsd things

@starkissed-mars ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a fucking hug bc i fele as though you need one(if ur ok with hugs)

@here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a book of robert frosts poetry because yes

@asters-tempo ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you art supplies(praying you dont think this is basic)

@stars-taylorsversion ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you marauders things(soryr i dont know you superly yet)

@rins-batcave ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a wallows album

@deadatthealtar ˋ°•*⁀➷ ride the cyclone merch

@circe-butbetter ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you fanfiction

@emilem-forevermore ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a hoodie that says "all my friends think im amazing"

@racc00ning ˋ°•*⁀➷i would get you something from epic(idk if theres merch but)

@aidens-ocean-galaxy ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you yellow jackets things and let you rant to me more about them because yes

@calypso10191 ˋ°•*⁀➷ CAL MY FRIEND i would get you airplane tickets to visit anyone you want

@seekmemystar ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a greek painting(the vibes trust trust)

@thestrawberryapologist ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you that ring that expands into an angel

@planetjinko ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you all the tbhk books

@a-t1r3d-b1s3xual ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a laptop bcuz i know you want one

@moku-and-his-madness ˋ°•*⁀➷ getting you merch of tsuchigomori(i spelled it wrong didnt i)

@serialkilluh-1996 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a red button that screams(trusttrust)

@arandombiped ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you alice oseman merchandise

@demigod-jack-hearth ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you hestia paintings

@blizzardtheartisticfox ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you hermitcraft things

@choucon ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a star pin(badly drawn) that says "your did it"

@xx-neuro-xx ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tally hall album

@kermit-the-fag-official ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a kermit puppet

@pearl-div3r ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would write you epic shit

@fishcow99 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you newsies stuff

@hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe ˋ°•*⁀➷ i woud get you arcane shit

@kunikisss ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you call of duty things because i think you like that

@kawaiibarty ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a record player idk trust

@butch-marauders ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a girl in red album

@sunsets-are-my-universe ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a break(you need one lets be real)

@mun-urufu ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a mug that i made

@raeprise ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you spn things

@k-is-for-potassium ˋ°•*⁀➷i would get you a banana for the funny

@yourlocalbadgerscales ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you taylor swift merch

@stqrgirl3 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a star mirror

@you-will-never-be-satisfied ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a hamilton advent calender

@whydousernamesevenexist ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you one of my old peanuts comic books from like the 1950s n shit

@aesthetic-writer18 ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you WRITING MOTIVATION WOO

@klondyke-the-bearˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a stuffed animal

@funz1es ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you oil painting sets becauz i think it would be good for you

@themortalityofundyingstars ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you sunflower seeds

@lifegoalsofafish ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tcgf things( i hope thats how it works)

@garden-of-runar ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a cotton candy machine(its off vibes)

@gasolinehornet ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you tickets too a movie you want

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would give you a childrens book

@definitionoffuckup ˋ°•*⁀➷ i would get you a tea packet(trust is this a shit gift perhaps)

if youd like to be removed from this lmk !!

[genderfluid-culture-iss]

for the baby genderfluid tips!!

this could just be me lmao, but DO NOT donate your fem clothes if you feel masc for longer than usual. or vice versa.

keeping a gender journal is something that can be really helpful to actually look back on and see how it changes (and also have proof of fluidity for when you begin to think "hmm actually im just a trans girl. nothing else." no, you probably aren't. you felt completely boy/nonbinary/etc just a month ago, and thats okay.)

basically it can be really hard to embrace that your gender is not static, especially if your gender stays stable for a slightly longer period. it took me so long to stop rotating between "im a girl always" "no, im a boy always" "actually, im nonbinary always" to just admit im genderfluid.

also, make genderfluid content. you don't have to show it to anyone, but sometimes it can really help to make poetry or art or write a story about being fluid and your experience in particular. i have an easy avenue for this since i write fanfiction (haven't published any of it yet lmao) and i just hit my favorite characters with my genderfluid beam and go nuts

follow people who are genderfluid, read genderfluid books, maybe join a genderfluid discord server (there are barely any, so actually maybe make one), try to make genderfluid friends. you are not alone, even though it sometimes feels that way.

if you have plushies or anything similar, make them genderfluid. i have a genderfluid squishmallow who i use she/they pronouns for, and a little husky that switches between he/she. idk it just helps sometimes lol

some of us change gender daily, or multiple times a day. some of us change gender only a couple times a year, or even less. we're all different and that's fine.

tips for presentation:

if you have a day when you can't figure out gender, go neutral clothing-wise

take little things to ease dysphoria if you switch when you're out somewhere (ex. lipgloss, eyeliner, leather bracelet, etc)

if you can, get pronoun pins. seriously, get pronoun pins (or a colored bracelet for subtlety or if you're not out). you can wear multiple at a time, you can switch them whenever you need to. you aren't a burden if your pronouns change. you don't have to stick to they/them to be easy for people.

if you can, get a versatile hairstyle that you can make suit your gender no matter what. if you cant, try to get a hairstyle that makes you the least dysphoric overall.

if you are organized enough, separate your clothes based on gender/what you feel comfy wearing on different days. do not pressure yourself to fit stereotypes. some people can only feel comfortable in skirts when theyre boys, so they only wear skirts on boy days. do what works for you.

it's kinda complicated, but if you can expand your vocal range to sound more fem or masc depending on how you feel, it can help. alternatively, vocal train to make it more androgynous.

keep makeup wipes with you in case you need to take it off part way through being out. basically, make it as easy as possible to be able to change/tweak your presentation if necessary.

this could just be me, but having lots of hoodies in different colors and styles will save your life

sometimes you might have "blender days", which is what i call it when your gender feels like its in a blender in a bad way and you can't tell at all what it is, everything feels wrong, it's changing like every 10 minutes, etc. tbh on these days all i can do is put on sweats and a hoodie and feel dysphoric. listen to music if it helps. do a hobby.

non-clothing items can help a lot. a blue tshirt and jeans can be whatever you want it to be based on what you wear it with. (ex. sneakers/ballet flats, leather bracelet/sparkly necklace, baseball cap/eyeliner)

and lastly: YOU ARE AMAZING. keep being you, keep being incredible, and know that being genderfluid is a gift. be proud to be who you are, have fun, know that you are unique and special and wonderful!! we're ever-changing, and that's awesome. you are precious. i love you.

🩷🤍💜🖤💙

dont wanna link my tumblr, but my name is kiley if you want to attach a name to this!

Okay this is a lot more than I was expecting LMAO /pos

Thank you so much for this Kiley <33 I’ll start working on a masterpost with links to all this.

[ravengards-rogue]

im sure everyone is familar but i just noticed this and Man...when you're romancing astarion and you've already slept w him before the tiefling party (and u have high approval i think) - you can get this line where you can basically goad him into shooting pickup lines at you. and through the different dialogue options, at one point - he'll say i love you insincerely.

you have like several ways of going about this dialogue, and my tav (this time) chose the option to say "having fun are you?" it was really... interesting... astarion in general has a really tonal way of speaking. and he has a line after you ask this of him, where he says he is and its hard not to with you. and he sounds... genuine.

when astarion is trying to get something out of you, he's always really theatrical but when he's being sincere that quality really Mellows. the pitch in his voice is higher and he speaks less smoothly. ike its hard to get the words out almost. he still has the same like delicate quality in his voice, the same airiness but its noticeably sounds more touched.

but its. interesting. that by that point (in act one before anything happens) that astarion knows really little about you other than you tend to look out for him and that you're capable. but when i consider it from astarions perspective, being with you even in (im)mortal peril and the connection you share is probably the first genuine, tangible connection with another being that he's had in his life or at least for 200 years. completely and entirely his outside of being a spawn.

its by a truthfully fucked up metric, but. he really does have fun with you. like he means that part. something about that is So devastating. because at that point, im sure astarion considers it temporary. he's manipulating you and he's trying to take advantage of you and its not real (so he tells himself over and over.)

except. sometimes it is. and sometimes you tell astarion you'll have each others backs. and sometimes you come back to camp covered in blood and you'll laugh with karlach trying to get it out of your hair and the fireplace is nice and crackling and it smells like smoke.

sometimes you'll trek through the forest and mountains and gale will say something and maybe you'll tease him. and you'll laugh. and so briefly he forgets what he's running from.

astarion will offer you his body because he's hoping you don't realize that's all he has to offer, but you're not expecting anything. there's no price to pay for laying under you except maybe his own guilt.

and even still. even with all the caveats. well its fun. maybe his standards are low, but its fun to be with you in some way. and its masked with so much of his usual poetry but maybe that is more meaningful than an i love you. you make him remember so basic, fun. genuine, silly fun.

he doesn't love you there. not yet. but maybe it is more meaningful for astarion at that stage, to simply admit that he doesn't want to be surrounded by unpleasantness forever. that there is more to getting his freedom than survival being easier. maybe he wants to have fun in ways that aren't drinking himself sick even when he can't taste the alcohol.

you're fun for him to be with..that means more than anything for him there. how do you teach someone who's suffered so much anything other than teeth-gritted, matted fur survival is unfamiliar? except trying to show them that it is fun, and good to be alive?

even if its all a sham. a mirage. well it was fun for astarion. he couldn't even forget that. you have so many of his firsts.

[starberry-cupcake]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN: CHAPTER 33 PEOPLE, WE'VE MADE IT!!!

previously, on harrowcita del 9:

this was the last recap update

this was my recap of where I left off

this is the post about camilla's reappearance which I can't reproduce in its entirety in this post but I suggest you look at

CHAPTER 33:

harrowcita is hanging out in a nice planet that sounds very pleasant

we've been so long in the emperor's bolthole and canaan house that this feels like heaven, actually

let's build a cottage and live here forever maybe

even better, as previously established, camilla is here

there's nature, there's little bugs, there's camilla, what else do we need???

maybe gideon would be nice

camilla shows up like "hey, loser, I need you to do me a solid" and pulls out palmolive's reconstructed skull

harrow is like ???????????????????????????

and here's where things get complicated for that 3D model I was building

harrow remembers camilla and palmolive dying the way they died in the gideon-less au

like, shot in the face repeatedly

her memory of them is the memory of the gideon-less au: not knowing them much, not remembering their faces much, seeing them shot to death by a slasher villain

and I'm like...huh????????????????????

because, as previously established (5 months ago), in the gideon-less au, dulcinea isn't not!dulcinea

she's real!dulcinea and protozoa is alive

he's reciting poetry and ortus doesn't like him coming for his gig

however, harrow does remember not!dulcinea being a threat and yandere twin has repeatedly talked about how she took off her arm and all that

so...which is it????

camilla is like "look, I don't care about your lack of memory or the fact that you're currently bleeding out of every perceivable orifice in your head, I got a job for you"

harrow is, as usual, skeptical of everything, especially of camilla being real, because 1) they're like in the orbit of the emperor's supposedly top secret bolthole, 2) camilla was supposed to be dead and 3) she's too perfect to exist

well, that last one was mine, but still

and harrowcita is dealing with this thing in which she can't trust her mind because, for all intents and purposes, she has an emotional support apparition trailing her

so harrow starts attacking camilla to try to figure out if she's real and camilla is slaying all her constructs because she's that bitch

so harrow accepts to listen and then camilla gives her palmolive's skull that's all glued back together with a lot of care, love and patience

camilla says they planned stuff in case he died (Sixth house winning points with me every single day, they came PREPARED, not like you SECOND HOUSE, YOU JUDGMENTAL ASSHATS)

in case palmolive kicked the bucket, he'd tether his soul or energy or whatever incorporeal thing that makes him himself to his remains

his remains blew to bits though

sometimes it doesn't matter how much you plan, things just blow up and explode in a million pieces

like my plans of reading this book in less time

so camilla found some palmolive scraps and put them together but if whatever bit of him he's tethered to isn't there, she has to go back and look for more bits

basically, camilla needs harrow to tell her if palmolive's force ghost is in the collected bits

harrow is both bleeding from every orifice and also very confused with everything that is happening

those are the two things she's been consistently experiencing all book long

but she's harrowcita nonagesimus and she's no quitter so in she goes to the river to see if indeed palmolive sextus has managed to cheat death, so to speak

she's expecting to have to do this

but she finds herself here

there's a nice little room with a cushion-y bed, some books, a window, a chair, etc

and there's also my reluctant bestie palmolive (I'm growing attached to him against my initial intentions)

palmolive hugs harrow and harrow is even more confused than before because affection????? care???? in this economy?????

so my reluctant bestie palmolive was able to create a sort of bubble in the shores of the metaphorical ghostly river

he created a space in the nothing, so to speak, a space in which he can remain without being pulled away from the same spot

he tethered himself in a cellular level in a spiderweb-like form to his pieces and was able to craft an unmoving reproduction of the place where he died, with what he could see at that time

that includes one romance book he's in the midst of writing fanfiction of

as one would

palmolive is also very upset at harrow taking approximately 8 months to get to him

harrow is like ?????????

palmolive goes "how did you get separated from cam?"

harrow is like ???????????????????????????

and when harrow starts with the lyctor spiel...

(is anyone impressed by that? ever? the emperor is a clown)

...palmolive says "tell me you did it correctly"

harrow tells him she slurped her cav

which we all know might not be entirely true because 1) harrow thinks ortus was his cav (brother in being blown to bits to palmolive) and 2) she's lyctor lite

but palmolive doesn't know this

he's very disappointed in god, and aren't we all

palm, my reluctant bestie, if you knew the guy you'd be even more disappointed

BUT THERE'S NO TIME FOR ANY OF THAT BECAUSE THERE'S SOMEONE AT THE WINDOW JUST IN TIME FOR HALLOWEEN

IT'S THE SLEEPER/WAKER/SLASHER

palmolive thinks harrow brought him there but he doesn't know who tf it is because he's the real palmolive and not the gideon-less au palmolive

the slasher villain is trying to get at them

if harrow leaves palm's apartment, the waker/sleeper/slasher will leave too, according to him

he kisses harrow's brow and drops a funny one-liner, as he does, because he's a nerd

harrow reluctantly leaves and shows up in a dark corridor

but it's not a corridor and it isn't dark

and most shocking of all

THERE'S A "ME"

THERE'S A NARRATOR

"you never could have guessed that he had seen me"

WHO'S ME?????? WHO IS NARRATING????

and that's it for chapter 33, I'm glad I stopped halfway 5 months ago because idk if I would have been able to do what I did if I had read until the end

happy halloween fam! I'll post my costume later but it isn't locked tomb related although maybe next year???

[midnightkolrath]

I've woken up on this day with a few quick thoughts on this scene from DMC5

Some things ppl (maybe myself in the past) have noticed and stated probably before but I'll throw my thoughts in anyway.

So, after Dante and Vergil knock back Nero, to keep him from following after him and establishing him as the protector of the human world while they go on to the demon world to cut down the Qliphoth tree. You can see Vergil's gaze linger on Nero for a good moment.

And I mean for a hot minute, too. He's gazing at the one he just found out is his own son. After witnessing the kind of strength his son displayed. He's thinking, and you can tell.

What about, you may ask?

About giving Nero his poetry book, of course. A personal belonging of his that he's personally cherished. And you know...this is actually the most affectionate Vergil has been towards Nero, in his own why. Let me elaborate real quick on why that is.

In Visions of V, its established that Vergil sees his poetry book as his 'heart'. Its tied to all the trauma he's suffered at first, but lamenting with his younger self, he realizes that he no longer needs to run from it and instead face it. His Heart will protect him.

He goes on to say to himself that he doesn't have to toss away what he has left. It goes on, in this moment, to show how Vergil eventually believes deep down that he and Dante can be twins again. It twists the deep sibling rivalry on a more positive spin.

I say positive, because all this time Vergil's been very keen on proving his strength into defeating his little brother who he's lost twice to by this point. As himself (3) and as Nelo (1). Its why he splits himself to gain more power and laments over the whole thing as V.

Its why Urizen is so quick to bring up how he's stronger than Dante and no longer has to 'see him as a threat'. He doesn't even have to spare the effort.

Getting back on track, though. Its funny how its stated V's poetry book is his heart, because of how much its tied to not just him, but Urizen. He named Urizen after one of Blake's works after all, the 'Book of Urizen'. Both halves of him are tied to that one book. His heart.

So Vergil spending a moment to ponder and consider giving Nero that same book? Him having a taunt that involves asking himself if he should entrust it to him? And he does? He's giving Nero not just something personally cherished, but essentially a piece of himself as well.

I think the nice bow on top is that Nero picks up the book, very likely recognizes that its the one V was carrying around all the time and realizes just how important it is. Thus, he's actually reading it by the end of the game to maybe understand personally how it was cherished.

Vergil took a minute to decide on giving his son his 'heart', followed through with it, and now Nero is holding onto and 'protecting it' until the day they can one day meet again. Its basically Vergil's own way of displaying a sort of affection towards Nero, the way I see it.

Its the little things I like about these games, ya know...just the things you can potentially pick up when you think about it. Its a shame alot of added context is in a media that you can only read through fan translation (thankfully) and not accessible traditionally, but its a good thing the community has come around to getting a hold of and translating such things for others to read.

[greynatomy]

daydreams

leah williamson x reader

little something that i’ve had in my drafts for a while.

i also just hit 500 followers, so thank you all for that. i appreciate every single one of you and i’m happy that you’ve loved what i’ve written.

let me know what you think!

-grey

———

“I got one last song for tonight.” ‘Awe’s’ can be heard through the room.

“I know. I know. Now. This song. Its one of my favorites that I’ve written and I wrote it in like two hours, right after some alone time with the Mrs… if ya know what I mean.” Y/N said with an exaggerated wink, making the room laugh.

“She’s a very inspiring woman. Most of my songs are about her, so, without further ado, this is Daydreams.”

She's all I read She's all the literature that I'll ever need She's poetry

But she's like the good kind that doesn't make me sleep Her eyes are porn and she knows it Won't shut her eyelids 'til she gets invited We're not keeping score, but she's winnin' Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her

You do tend to get lost in her eyes, especially when you see nothing but love and lust in them.

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air She knows I'm weak, yeah I Daydream every day about the things we do at night

———

In the crowd, three friends came to watch the show together.

She likes the word, "Please" But not the polite kind, the one in the sheets She knows she's a tease She's here for a good time then she's gonna leave

“Whoever her wife is must be real freaky in them sheets.” One friend states, unaware of how one of her friends’ cheeks were turning red.

She'll start a war and she knows it Won't stop her fighting 'til my flag is rising We're not keeping score, but she's winnin' Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air She knows I'm weak, yeah I Daydream every day about the things we do at night

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air She knows I'm weak, yeah I Daydream every day about the things we do at night

“That was Daydreams, It will be release soon. For now, thank you all for coming to hangout. Until next time. Bye everyone, get home safe.” Y/N closed her show off, waving to the crowd, walking offstage.

“She’s so dreamy.” Lia Wälti stated to her friends.

“So hot.” Both Lia and Beth looked at Leah with a teasing smile. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yup. I would say to get with her, but apparently she’s married now.”

Leah’s cheeks burn red. “Shut up. Let’s just g—”

“Leah Williamson.” Leah was interrupted by a security guard.

“That’s me.”

“You’ve been requested backstage. If you and your guests would just follow me.”

“Leah?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are we following a random person? He could be kidnapping us.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Following the security guard into a room, they were told to wait there and left, closing the door.

“Is this is the part where we die?”

“Lia!”

“You’re basically manifesting it to happen.” Beth stated, with a roll of her eyes.

“I promise I won’t kill you guys.”

The three of them turn around, seeing the one and only Y/N Y/LN. Two out of the three appear in shock.

“You- you’re Y/N Y/LN.”

“I am.”

“OHMYGOD I LOVE YOU!” Lia yelled in excitement.

“Thank you!” You turn to Leah and give her your biggest smile. “Hi, Leah.”

Leah quickly goes to you and wraps her arms around your neck, yours going around her waist.

“Hi, darling.” Leah leans up to give you a quick kiss.

“YOU KISSED Y/N YL/N!”

“Okay, Lia. Let’s go outside to calm down for a bit, yeah.”

“I’ll meet you guys outside. Let me get showers and changed first.”

The two footballers walk out the room, Leah closing the door.

“Wait, if Y/n Yl/n is married and you just kissed her, does that mean you’re married to her and she wrote a song about your sex life?”

“LIA!”

[poetrysmackdown]

what makes a poem a poem? does it have to be written in a certain way? is this question a poem if i want it to be?

Fun question! This is just my personal sense as an avid reader and less-avid writer of poetry, but for me it’s useful to distinguish (roughly) between poetry as a genre and poetry as an attitude or philosophy through which language and the world can be understood. And of course these two go hand in hand. I see poetry the genre as essentially a type of literature where we as readers are signaled, somehow, to pay closer attention to language, to rhythm, to sound, to syntax, to images, and to meaning. That attentive posture is the “attitude” of broader poetic thinking, and while it’s most commonly applied to appreciate work that’s been written for that purpose, there’s nothing stopping us from applying that attentiveness elsewhere. Everywhere, even! That’s how you eventually end up writing poetry for yourself, after all. There’s a quote from Mary Ruefle floating around on here that a lot of folks have probably already seen, but it immediately comes to mind with this ask:

“And when you think about it, poets always want us to be moved by something, until in the end, you begin to suspect that a poet is someone who is moved by everything, who just stands in front of the world and weeps and laughs and laughs and weeps.”

Similarly, after adopting the attentive posture of poetics, there’s plenty of things that can feel or sound like a poem, even when they perhaps were not written with that purpose in mind. I’ve seen a couple of these “found poems” on here that are quite fun—this one, for example. The meaning and enjoyment you may derive from the language of a found poem isn’t any less real than that derived from a poem written for explicitly poetic purposes, so I don’t see why it shouldn’t be called poetry.

That said, I do think that if you’re going to go out and start looking for poetry everywhere, it’s still important to have a foundation in the actual language work of it all. Now, this doesn’t mean it has to be “written in a certain way” at all! But it does mean that in order to cultivate the attentiveness that’s vital to poetry, one needs to understand what makes language tick, down at its most basic levels. It will make you better at reading poetry, better at writing it, and better at spotting it out in the wild.

Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook is an extraordinary resource to new writers and readers, and a great read for more experienced folks as well. Mary Oliver’s most popular poems are all to my knowledge in free verse, and yet you might be surprised to find her deep appreciation for metrical verse (patterns of stressed/unstressed syllables), as well as for the most minute devices of sound. In discussing the so-called poetry of the past, she writes,

“Acquaintance with the main body of English poetry is absolutely essential—it is the whole cake, while what has been written in the last hundred years or so, without meter, is no more than an icing. And, indeed, I do not really mean an acquaintanceship—I mean an engrossed and able affinity with metrical verse. To be without this felt sensitivity to a poem as a structure of lines and rhythmic energy and repetitive sound is to be forever less equipped, less deft than the poet who dreams of making a new thing can afford to be.”

In another section, after devoting lots of attention to the sounds at work in Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, she writes,

“Everything transcends from the confines of its initial meaning; it is not only the transcendence in meaning but the sound of the transcendence that enables it to work. With the wrong sounds, it could not have happened.”

I hope all this helps to get across my opinion that what makes a poem a poem is not just about the author's intention, and not just about meaning (intended or attributed), but also about sound and rhythm and language and history, all coalescing into something that rises above the din of a language we would otherwise grow tired of while out in our day-to-day lives.

I'll always have more to say but I'm cutting myself off here! Thanks for the ask