#and if they want a discussion then they can dm or send an ask

[poetrysmackdown]

hi hiii i wanted to say that your account is so refreshing to see, esp with the passion you have for the arts. as someone who's been meaning to read (and write) more poetry, do you have any recommendations? some classics that everyone and their mothers know? perhaps some underrated pieces that changed you? or even just authors you like, I'm very open to suggestions :]]

Hi! Thank you so much for this kind ask :) So exciting that you’re looking to delve deeper into reading and writing! I had to take a little time to answer this because my thoughts were all over the place lol.

For a review of notable/classic poems/poets, I honestly just recommend looking at lists online or, hell, just binging Wikipedia pages for different countries’ poetry if that’s something you’re into, just to get a sense of the chronology. I read one of those little Oxford Very Short Introductions on American Poetry and thought it was pretty good, but online is quicker if you’re just searching for poets or movements to hone in on. Poetry Foundation also has lots of resources, in addition to all the poems in their database. I guess my one big classic recommendation would have to be Emily Dickinson (<3), but really the best move is just to find a poet you already enjoy and then look around to see who their peers were/are, who they were inspired by, who they’ve maybe translated here and there, etc. and follow it down the line as far as you can.

For some personal recs, here are some collections I’ve really enjoyed over the past two years or so. Bolded favorites, and linking where select poems from the book have been published online. But also, if you want a preview of a couple poems from another of the books to see if they interest you, DM me and I can send them over! You can also feel free to pilfer through my poetry tag for more stuff lol

Autobiography of Death by Kim Hyesoon trans. Don Mee Choi

Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings by Joy Harjo

DMZ Colony by Don Mee Choi

Hardly War by Don Mee Choi

Whereas by Layli Long Soldier

Geography III by Elizabeth Bishop

Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha

Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine

Mouth: Eats Color—Sagawa Chika Translations, Anti-Translations, & Originals by Sawako Nakayasu

The Selected Poems of Osip Mandelstam trans. W.S. Merwin and Clarence Brown

The Branch Will Not Break by James Wright

This Journey by James Wright

God’s Silence by Franz Wright

Duino Elegies by Rainer Maria Rilke (the translation I read was by Alfred Corn—I thought it was great, but idk if there are better ones out there!)

DMZ Colony, Hardly War, Dictee, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely, and partially Whereas are all book-length poems with some prose poetry and varying levels of weirdness/denseness/multilingualism—if you were to pick one to start with, I’d say do Don’t Let Me Be Lonely or Whereas. Mouth: Eats Color is some experimental translations of Japanese modernist poet Chika Sagawa, with other translations and some of Nakayasu’s original stuff mixed in—it's definitely a bit disorienting but ultimately I remember having such fun with it, as much fun as Nakayasu probably had making it. It’s a book that emphasizes co-creation and a spirit of play, and completely changed my attitude towards translation.

If you’re less interested in that kind of formal fuckery stuff though (I get it), can’t go wrong with the other books! Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings is the one I read most recently, and it’s great—Harjo also featured in Round 1! Franz Wright also featured, and God's Silence is the collection which "Night Walk" comes from. James Wright (father of Franz) is one of my favorite poets of all time, though his poetry isn’t perfect. Even so, I’m honestly surprised he’s not doing numbers on Tumblr—Mary Oliver was a big fan of his, even wrote her "Three Poems for James Wright" after his death.

I mentioned in another post that one of my favorite poets is Paul Celan, so I’ll also recommend him here. I read Memory Rose into Threshold Speech which is a translated collection of his earlier poems, but it’s quite long if you’re just getting to know him as a poet—fortunately, both Poetry Foundation and Poets.org have a ton of his poems in their collections. There’s also an article by Ilya Kaminsky about him titled “Of Strangeness That Wakes Us” (!!!!!) that’s a great place to start, and is honestly kind of my whole mission statement when I’m reading and writing poetry. Looking at the books I’ve recommended above, a lot of them share feelings of separateness or alienation—from others, from oneself, from one’s country, from language—that breed strange, private modes of expression. That tends to be what I’m drawn to personally, and that’s some of what Kaminsky talks about.

Sorry of the length of this—I hope it's useful as a jumping-off point! And if you or anyone ends up exploring any of these poets, let me know what you think! If folks wanna reply with recommendations themselves too that'd be great :)

[sea-buns]

not really, but I suppose that’s just a difference of opinion. I do think that gorgug’s nightmare sequence was one of the weakest, especially with how it shifted topics (being dead, small spaces, not being able to escape a stereotype, because if any of these had been expanded on that would’ve been great), but I do think a lot of gorgug’s character revolves around feeling in-between, or too much one thing and not another and trying to close that gap. The best one for me was deffo the sphinx tho, I interpreted it as not *just* about him being dumb, but rather like. You’re big and dumb and strong and your main job is getting angry and hitting shit with an axe. You went to a community of gnomes and they gave you a better axe, and you loved it. You are uniquely dumb, unlike those who have come before you, because you cannot solve a specific kind of puzzle while a sphinx talks at you. You are the reason your parents cut contact, and from the beginning you were unsuited for their home. Your extended family predicted that you would grow to know only rage, and here you are, a barbarian. You, from this perspective, are not proving them wrong.

I do think that that whole sequence does reveal that he’s afraid of like. Being that stereotype? And then going yeah sure I’m stupid eat me, then moving forward and clawing your way into understanding anyways

Ahhh I see. Yeah I think I did misunderstand your first ask a bit lol

I did really love a lot of the topics his sequence brought up. Like I've read some incredibly well-written fanfics that covered the ways that claustrophobia, and imposter syndrome, and being dead have affected him. But like you said, if they had just honed in on at least one, rather than hopping back and forth, it could have done so much for that section. Cuz, personally, I don't feel like we saw Gorgug be significantly affected by any of those. At least not in a way that felt complete and satisfying.

I really like what you said about his character being "in-between". I totally agree. Kinda circles back to how his parents trying to help him calm his rage was actually stifling him.

Your family needs you to calm down; you've broken another bedchairdoorappliance. Your teacher wants you to rage; he says anger is good but you don't understand. You sing to try and calm yourself, you're always trying to be kind to others; they only use it to hurt you more and all you can do is get angry back. Your friends need you to rage. You don't have the power to protect them socially, but this you can do. You try not to rage outside of a fight, but.... they don't seem to be that bothered when you do. In fact, you watch them provoke physical confrontation when they're mad on many occasions.

(Oops dipped a biiiit into the pot of how important friendship is to his character. Did not mean to lol it's just one of my fav things about him so it's kinda subconscious I guess)

But yeah! He's also in such a limbo this season as well! You can't do this you're too angry, you're not smart enough for that, you don't rage right.

Also realllyy like your interpretation of his trial. The angle you described it at was really interesting.

I don't think stereotype is the right word, though. I would say... he's afraid of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy? I'm assuming based on your own "stereotype?" that you weren't sure about the word either.

I don't think Gorgug is, or would ever be, afraid of being a "stereotype". Like I don't think he gives a shit about the stereotype that orcs/half-orcs/barbarians only know anger and destruction. I think he's afraid of being a self-fulfilling prophecy of all the things people say that he is. Stupid, mindless, destructive, etc. To pull from what you said here (which it wont let me copy paste on mobile god fucking damnit)

"Your extended family predicted that you would grow to know only rage, and here you are, a barbarian. You, from this perspective, are not proving them wrong."

"Stereotype" for sure applies to his racist extended family. They fucking breathe stereotypes like oxygen. But the bit where his afraid of becoming what everyone says he is, I think "self-fulfilling prophecy" suits that much better. He believes he can be more than that, he knows he can, but it doesn't change the fact that they are technically right.

Okay and the giving in but then "clawing your way into understanding anyways" actually goes so hard lol. Anon, you are so right. From that pov, it's not so much a give up as it is an acknowledgment before he essentially puts the subject on ice.

Rings back a bit to the start of fhjy to me. That dread of seeing the email of school starting back up again, and the terrible sinking pit in your stomach of avoidance, because the time has come to really unpack all that. There was something specific Zac said in his little Gorgug recap before the season started that was about, like, the dread of having to figure out who the fuck you're gonna be when everyone around you seems to have their shit together. That. That hit hard lmao but the experience that he's covered is very true to Gorgug, I think.

I totally misunderstood your first ask! Though I'm happy you sent another cuz I understand a lot better, I think. And tbh I've never had the opportunity to discuss that section of fantasy high with anyone? I wasn't on tumblr or watching d20 when it first aired so I missed these specific topics. Always been v interested in what others thought of his part. Maybe I should put the vods on in the bg next time I'm play sdv. Give em a relisten. And man. The fact that I'm out here quoting your message brings me back to english class so hard. Shocked I don't hate it. Actually having a topic you give half a shit about does wonders huh lmao

Thanks for the ask! You have altered my perspective and I appreciate it. It's like how sometimes you gotta read something out loud to understand it. If all I have is the walls of my own skull, I can only get so far.

[porto-rosso]

there is so much aggressive misinfo abt toxic shock syndrome out there its a nightmare

[coldresolve]

So I've read a lot of your posts and replies about torture apologia and I wanted to ask you what you think the best way to educate people is without throwing books at their faces and how best to signal to readers that you're writing unrealistic torture.

I'm asking this as someone who is moderately educated on torture and its effects. But I do enjoy reading and writing some of the more outlandish tropes like brainwashing in over-the-top settings for a variety of reasons I'm not going to mention here because explaining that would take ages and risk my anonymity.

Because there is a way to tell people that you're writing erotica that shouldn't be used as educational material for safe sex or bdsm etiquette (because its purpose is to be fantastical and unrealistic) and while it's going to be way harder with torture since people are less educated on it, there should be a way to go about it, right?

for the record i'd prefer the torture discussion sorts of questions to go over to @dark-audit, but im too tired to copy this over rn lol

i'll say this: if you're going to knowingly perpetuate myths and/or make themes that inadvertantly justify the use of torture, a good handful of which are so accepted in public discourse and fiction, a good portion of your audience believes they're factual long before they read a single thing you've written - you better make sure you signal that that's exactly what you're doing, and systematically shut down any suggestion that treats your depiction of torture as realistic, or, yknow, thematically moral in the context of real world politics. one thing is disclaimers, another is having regular conversations with your readers about how torture actually functions, which means you're gonna have to dip your toes into reading up on the topic. this is the bare minimum for handling this sort of thing responsibly imo. the current conventions for depictions of torture are misinformation and justifications. if you want to change that status quo while sticking to harmful narratives "for a variety of reasons I'm not going to mention", you're gonna have to put some serious effort in out-of-text. apologies but you dont get the good boy points for free lol

the better option would be to maybe perhaps not indulge the myths, no matter how compelling they are to you? it requires a bit of effort but if the alternative is turning a blind eye to apologia, maybe it's worth that effort. imo torture is an interesting and cathartic thing to write about even if you stick to depictions that are in line with reality. there are so many facets to it you could dive into, i don't really see the point in engaging with war on terror/reeducation rhetoric. but maybe thats just me

[supernovaa-remnant]

I genuinely wish Shubble nothing but the best

[vang0bus]

hi!!! this is all in good faith and please dont take this as an attack (also sorry for my english LOL its not my native lang). i’m /gen curious about your response to this, im open to all any opinions that can push me to change my mind.

right, i just want to start off by saying that fundamentally bipartisan system in the us sucks and i get it. i also know its scary to think about republicans being the main power in electoral politics.

anyways… be it the congress or president, you are not really voting for people, you are voting for some kind of lobby. political system in the us is a money machine.

and whereas social issues (lgbt, abortion, feminism) are only used as chess pieces and can be pushed all over the board, left or right, and be freely used to create propaganda and keep fearmongering in order to gain more voters (as republicans certainly do), that’s not the case with anything that has to do with the economy or us financial and political interest internationally.

every president, and every party wants to preserve the position of the us as an empire. and that’s required of them. they need to preserve the empire, in order to have more influence, to stimulate the economy, to get cheeper natural resources.

the current genocide going on in palestine is a matter of million (billion? idk u guys use the numbers name in a diff way) of dollars. it’s not a matter of not supporting the genocide for them, its a matter of investment for them, thats will make them a LOT of money.

that’s why the only way to make sure democrats will never again support genocide again is to take away the electoral support! that’s the only way! because otherwise, the polls will show that the support of a genocide cannot stop them from making money!

and i’m sorry, i don’t mean to sound insensitive, but there isn’t a genocide going on in the us. not in a literal sense at least.

shit sucks, and i know that, but i think you guys HAVE TO survive a couple of years of a shithead in the office if that means showing a huge decrease of support for democrats, the only thing that will make sure that democrats elected in the future will not take actions to support a genocide lol.

anyways, i hope u have a good day <3 take care

you have some good points! and i want to establish that i'm not actually from the USA at all, so this is coming from someone whos looking at US politics from the outside. i agree that threatening to withdraw electoral support might be the only way to push democrats left -- my problem isn't with people telling politicians they're not going to vote blue unless they change their stance on israel. my problem is with people on this website encouraging other leftists to abstain and saying voting does nothing. let's be real, politicians don't look at tumblr dot com. joe biden isn't seeing what anyone says about him here. the only effect this discourse will have is making people unwilling to vote democrat even if the situation changes. even if it becomes clear that that would be the best strategy. not only that, but i'm already seeing people who claim to be leftist defending trump and claiming biden is infinitely worse just based on him supporting israel, as if trump would be any less pro-israel if he was president. let's be realistic, please. you know trump would be just as bad if not worse. vote for better candidates in the primaries; absolutely do threaten democrats with loss of electoral support. but if it comes down to biden VS trump or biden VS desantis again, i really do think it would be irresponsible to abstain or to vote third party considering the current political environment in the united states.

[goodnesssound]

READ!!!

Hi! Welcome to my blog! I love posting new content daily, I won't DM you or ask you to buy ANYTHING. That's completely up to you. Reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

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[spread-the-influence]

OH COOL ! A MASTERPOST !

a horror-comedy fan comic based on The Amazing Digital Circus where ragatha's the host of a parasitical virus and it becomes everyone's problem ! neat-o beans !

* this is also a VERY buttonblossom / pomni x ragatha-centric AU so if you don't enjoy that ship i don't recommend engaging with this sorry

[DISCLAIMER!] while this comic is mostly lighthearted in tone , this comic and au will contain topics that could disturb sensitive readers ! this includes ; graphic violence , depictions and discussions of emotional abuse , depictions of mental health issues , self-harm imagery , obsession , and discussions of suicide . any more specifics will be tagged in the pages , but these are the ones that encompass the Entire comic basically !

( also i hope it's a given that i'm not romanticizing the toxic yuri in this au , )

if any of these topics make you uncomfortable , it's alright to click away or block the #tadc influence au tag .

!! if you want to support this comic , try sharing and talking about it in other platforms OR throw some money at my ko-fi page ! it'll be radical either way !!

LINKS

>> READ THE BEGINNING !

or , if you prefer ...

* TABLE OF CONTENTS ( returning reader or just someone who's not up for scrolling through the tags ? here's the table of contents ! contains links to the comic pages all in one place , any extras , and possible relevant posts in the >>info; tag ! )

* FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ! ( questions that i have constantly been asked ! )

* AU POST ! ( for those who have read the comic and are curious about the au — and people that want to spoil the first half of the comic for themselves . i don't judge ! )

* INFO CARDS ! ( info cards for the characters , just for funsies ! will contain blank templates for any ocs (: )

TAGS

[ highlighted are those of relevance + may be interesting ! ]

>>COMIC; - the comic ( be warned things will be out of order )

>>INFO; - specific asks about the au answered !

>>ASK; - old roleplay posts if you want to see em

>>MISC; - answered asks / non-comic stuff

WARNING: ESSAY - mod rambles

>>DOODLES; - doodles from yours truly

>>PRE-FLUENCE; - stuff before the horrors

>>POST-FLUENCE; - stuff after the horrors

>>ANIMATIONS; - ... animations

>>OFFICE LORE; - pre-circus

>>REBLOGS; - ... reblogs !

>>EXTRAS; - some extra or ' ambiguously canon ' comics !

GUIDELINES & BOUNDARIES

READ THE FAQ , PLEASE ! there are some questions that are , well , frequently asked ! so please read the faq and only send an ask if the question's not there

this is NOT an ask blog ! i will sometimes play along with ask blog-esque asks , but that's only just once in a while — so just please only ask me , the mod , for anything about the au !

you can call me mod bee . i go by she/her in this account

keep it impersonal please ! i would prefer if the asks are related to the au , my art , or tadc . i'm fine with being asked about my interests or what i think of something but otherwise , i appreciate if you do not ask about my life or what timezone i'm in .

my art is free to use ! feel free to use it as an icon , in an edit — anything really as long as you don't sell it or it's not used to spread hateful messages ! my only condition really is to credit me

reposts are fine ! just please make it clear that you did NOT create the art and LINK the account . i gave the free rein to repost the art , all i'm asking is to please respect these conditions !

please do not dm me . i do not like dms . any form of communication is only through the ask box .

i am uncomfortable with nsfw asks so please don't send them . i am fine with suggestive humor , though

remember to spread the influence.

[rootedinrevisions]

Too Late: Part 3 (Final Part)

SUMMARY: You find yourself at a crossroads, reflecting on your fears and the love that once defined your relationship with Tyler. After a heartfelt conversation with your mother, you reach out to Tyler, who agrees to meet, unsure of what to expect. What begins as a casual meal at the local diner evolves into a candid, emotional discussion where both of you confront your past mistakes, vulnerabilities, and hopes for the future. As walls come down and trust begins to rebuild, an unspoken connection blossoms once more.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support this story/series has received! This is the third and final part of the story that I have planned. I hope you guys enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: None really. Mentions of past trust issues (what happened in the 1st part)

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The last of the plates clinked as Tyler set it into the drying rack. His hands moved automatically, a practiced rhythm that mirrored yours as you worked side by side in the kitchen. The early morning sunlight streamed through the window above the sink, casting soft golden streaks across the countertop. The silence between you was no longer heavy or awkward. Instead, it felt easy, almost peaceful—an unspoken truce forged over breakfast and stolen moments.

You rinsed the final dish, turning it over in your hands to ensure it was spotless before passing it to Tyler. He dried it with deliberate care, his fingers brushing the edges of the plate before placing it neatly in the cupboard. Neither of you spoke, but the weight of unspoken words lingered between you, quiet but persistent.

When the dishes were done, Tyler folded the towel and hung it neatly on the oven handle. “I can drive you over to your mom’s if you want,” he offered, his voice low but steady. “So you can grab your car.”

You nodded, wiping your damp hands on the front of your jeans. “Yeah… thanks.”

The drive to your house passed in near silence, the faint hum of the truck’s engine the only sound between you. Tyler kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting casually on the wheel, the other draped across the armrest. You found yourself stealing glances at him, your gaze lingering on the set of his jaw and the way the morning light danced across his profile.

It wasn’t until Tyler pulled into the driveway of your mom’s house and shifted the truck into park that you realized how tightly you’d been gripping your seatbelt. The familiar sight of the front porch with its white railing and your mom’s potted plants brought a strange mix of comfort and unease. You stared at the door, your stomach twisting with a sudden, inexplicable knot of anxiety.

Your thoughts drifted to your mom. The doctors had said they’d call if there was any change, and there hadn’t been. No news is good news, you reminded yourself, but the knot in your stomach refused to loosen. Something about stepping into that house, uncertain whether your mom was going to make it, left you frozen with hesitation.

“You okay?” Tyler’s voice was quiet, but it carried enough concern to pull you out of your thoughts.

You blinked and glanced over at him. His steady gaze was on you, his brows slightly furrowed as he tried to read your expression.

You took a deep breath, nodding once. “Yeah,” you said, but the tightness in your voice betrayed you.

Tyler didn’t look convinced.

Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve as you stared back at the house. After a moment, you turned to him again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Would you... come inside with me? I don’t really want to be alone in there right now.”

The words hung in the air, and you braced yourself for some kind of resistance. But Tyler just nodded, his expression softening. “Of course.”

He turned the truck off and climbed out, waiting for you to join him before the two of you walked to the front door together. You unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar creak of the floorboards under your feet stirring a wave of memories. Tyler lingered just inside the doorway, his hands shoved into his jean pockets as his eyes scanned the room.

“I’ll be right here,” he said gently.

You gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Climbing the stairs to your old bedroom felt surreal, like stepping back into a time capsule. The walls were still painted the same pale yellow you’d chosen in high school, and the mismatched furniture you’d left behind was exactly where it had always been. 

You grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the dresser, quickly changing out of the borrowed clothes. After running a brush through your hair, you tied it back into a ponytail, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired—more tired than you wanted to admit—but there was no time to dwell on that now.

When you made your way back downstairs, Tyler was still standing by the door, just as he’d said. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his shoulders relaxed, but his eyes were fixed on the floor as if lost in thought.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached, his voice quiet but steady.

You nodded, offering a faint smile. “Yeah.”

He held the door open for you as you stepped outside, the morning air crisp against your skin. Something about his presence steadied the unease still twisting in your chest. For now, it was enough.

The two of you stepped outside, and you locked the house behind you. Tyler was already back at his truck, standing by the driver’s side door. His hand rested on the handle, but instead of climbing in, he turned to look at you.

There was something hesitant in his expression, like he was trying to muster up the right words but couldn’t quite find them. His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak.

You took a deep breath, hugging your arms across your chest as the morning air nipped at your skin. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but having Tyler at the hospital yesterday had been comforting. He’d been a steady presence in a moment when everything felt like it was spiraling. And the thought of walking back into that hospital room alone right now made your chest tighten.

Your dad’s last update replayed in your mind. The earliest he could get there would be later tonight. He’d been out of town on business when the accident happened and was scrambling to book last-minute flights and make the long journey back.

You hesitated, the rational part of your brain warning you this was a bad idea. But you couldn’t help it. You glanced over at Tyler. 

“Would you…” You paused, swallowing hard. “Would you come sit with me at the hospital? Just until my dad gets there?”

You braced yourself for some kind of resistance, but Tyler didn’t even hesitate. He nodded without a second thought. “Of course.”

Relief flooded through you, and though you tried to hide it, you were pretty sure he saw it in your face. You climbed into the truck, and Tyler started the engine, pulling out of the driveway. The hum of the tires on the pavement filled the quiet between you, but this silence felt different—less heavy, more comfortable.

When you reached the hospital, Tyler parked and cut the engine. You both made your way through the sliding glass doors and up the elevator to your mom’s room. As you reached the floor, Tyler slowed his steps, glancing at the small waiting area near the elevators.

“Do you want me to wait out here?” he asked, his voice quiet and careful, as if he didn’t want to overstep.

You hesitated, looking back toward the hallway that led to your mom’s room. For a moment, the idea of walking in alone made your stomach churn.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “You can come in.”

Tyler nodded, falling into step beside you as you walked down the hall. His hand brushed yours briefly—not intentional, just the way the two of you moved in tandem—and the fleeting contact sent a strange mix of comfort and nerves through you.

When you reached your mom’s room, you hesitated again, your hand hovering over the door handle. Tyler didn’t say anything, but his presence at your side was enough to make you feel steady.

You and Tyler stepped into the room, the soft hum of machines filling the air. Your mom’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door, and when she saw you, a tired but genuine smile spread across her face.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

You moved to her bedside, leaning down to give her a gentle hug. As you embraced her, you felt her gaze shift over your shoulder.

“Tyler,” she said warmly, catching sight of him lingering near the door. “Come in, honey. Don’t just stand there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler replied, nodding as he stepped further into the room. 

He seemed hesitant, unsure of how much space to take up. After a moment, he settled into a chair in the corner, his broad frame somehow making the small hospital chair look even smaller.

You pulled a chair closer to your mom’s bed, taking her hand in yours. Her skin was cool and fragile beneath your fingers, but her grip was surprisingly strong.

For a while, the room was filled with quiet conversation between you and your mom. You told her about the house, reassured her that everything was in order, and avoided bringing up anything that might worry her further. Tyler stayed silent, his presence steady but unobtrusive, watching the two of you with a quiet attentiveness.

When the nurses came in to administer pain medicine, your mom began to fade into drowsiness. You smoothed her blanket over her, watching as her breathing evened out and her eyes fluttered shut. The room grew quiet again, a stillness settling over everything.

You glanced over at Tyler. He’d leaned back in his chair, his phone in hand, occasionally responding to a text or scrolling through something. But for the most part, he just sat there, a calming presence you hadn’t realized you’d needed.

Hours passed in that comfortable silence. At some point, you noticed Tyler’s head start to dip forward, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He crossed his arms over his chest, his head tilting slightly as he drifted off to sleep.

It was around then that your mom stirred. You turned your attention back to her as she opened her eyes and smiled at you.

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” she asked softly, her voice still a little groggy.

You hesitated before nodding. “I’m okay,” you said, though the words didn’t feel entirely convincing.

Your mom glanced past you, her smile growing a little wider when she saw Tyler sleeping in the corner. “Are you two talking again?” she asked, her tone light but curious.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Not really. He’s just… trying to help right now.”

Your mom let out a quiet laugh, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and knowing. “Which one of you is being stubborn?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She raised an eyebrow, the kind of expression only a mother could manage, equal parts teasing and serious. “I mean, Tyler’s here, isn’t he? Sitting in a hospital room with you for hours, even though you two aren’t together anymore.” She tilted her head slightly, studying your face. “That boy cares about you. He always has.”

You shook your head, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “Mom, you’re forgetting why we broke up in the first place. He was never around. He missed birthdays, holidays… even our anniversary once. How do you think that made me feel?”

Your mom sighed, her expression softening. “I know it hurt, sweetheart. I know it did. But have you ever thought about why he worked so much? Why he was gone so often?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Because his job was more important than I was.”

“No,” she said firmly, her tone gentle but unwavering. “Because he wanted to give you the world. Tyler would do anything to make you happy, and the way he thought he could do that was by working hard and making sure you had everything you could ever want.”

You started to argue, but she held up a hand.

“He wasn’t gone because he didn’t care,” she continued. “He was gone because he cared too much. That YouTube channel, the storm chasing—it��s how he made his money. It’s how he provided for the two of you. Do you know how many times he called me, asking what he could do to make things better for you? How many times he worried he wasn’t enough for you?”

Her words hit like a punch to the chest. You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself at a loss.

“I’m not saying he was perfect,” she said softly. “And I’m not saying it didn’t hurt you when he missed things. But he wasn’t doing it to hurt you. He was doing it because he thought it was the best way to take care of you. And maybe he didn’t always get it right, but his heart was in the right place.”

You looked down at your hands, her words circling in your mind.

“Don’t let fear or pride keep you from giving him another chance, sweetheart,” she said gently. “People make mistakes. They grow. And from what I’ve seen, that boy would do anything to make things right with you.”

You glanced over at Tyler, still asleep in the chair, his head tilted at an awkward angle. Despite everything, his presence here—just being here—had been more comforting than you’d expected.

Your mom gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Sometimes love means letting go of the hurt and giving someone the chance to show you they’ve changed.”

* * * * *

Over the next few days, Tyler proved to be a steady presence in ways you hadn’t expected. It started with small gestures—things that felt almost too thoughtful to be coincidental.

The first time, it was coffee. You’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning as you worried about your mom, your dad still trying to make it home, and the ever-present weight of Tyler being sort of back in your life. You’d shown up at the hospital bleary-eyed and running on fumes, only to find Tyler already there, leaning casually against the wall outside your mom’s room.

“Morning,” he’d said, holding out a cup of your favorite coffee. “Figured you could use this.”

You’d blinked at him, caught off guard. “How’d you—”

“You’ve been ordering the same thing since I met you,” he said with a small smile.

The warmth that spread through you at his thoughtfulness was immediate, but you tamped it down, nodding as you took the cup from his hand. “Thanks,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

But that wasn’t the only time.

The next day, you’d mentioned offhandedly that you needed to grab a few groceries before heading back to the hospital. By the time you made it to the store after your visit, Tyler was already there, leaning against his truck in the parking lot with a bag in hand.

“Saved you a trip,” he’d said simply, handing you the groceries you needed.

“Tyler,” you started, a mixture of gratitude and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his tone calm and even. “But I wanted to.”

And then there were the texts.

How’s your mom doing today?Did you get some rest last night?Let me know if you need anything.

They came consistently, never pushy but always there, like a quiet reminder that you didn’t have to go through this alone.

At first, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that he was just being polite, trying to make up for the past. But the more it happened, the harder it became to ignore.

One evening, after another long day at the hospital, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, Tyler’s latest text lighting up your phone.

Did you eat today?

You stared at the screen, your chest tightening. He wasn’t asking out of obligation. He wasn’t trying to win points. He was just… there. Consistent.

It felt foreign—this version of Tyler who wasn’t promising the moon and stars but showing up in small, meaningful ways instead.

You typed out a quick reply, trying to keep it casual. Yeah, grabbed something at the cafeteria. Thanks for checking in.

His response came almost immediately. Good. You need anything?

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Part of you wanted to tell him no, to keep him at arm’s length where it felt safe. But another part of you—the part that had started noticing the way he remembered your coffee order, the way he didn’t hesitate to pick up groceries, the way his presence made the weight on your shoulders feel a little lighter—wanted to say yes.

Instead, you settled on something in between. I’m good. Thanks, though.

You set your phone down, your emotions swirling in a way that felt impossible to untangle. You could see the effort he was making, the consistency you once doubted in him. And yet, the fear of repeating past mistakes loomed large, a wall you weren’t sure you were ready to let down.

As you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but wonder: Could you let yourself trust him again? Or was holding back the only way to keep from getting hurt?

The answer felt as distant and elusive as ever, but one thing was clear—Tyler wasn’t going anywhere. And that scared you as much as it comforted you.

* * * * *

You weren’t sure what had compelled you to say yes when Tyler offered to have you over for a few hours. Maybe it was his reasoning—that you needed a break after days at the hospital. Maybe it was the fact that your dad was finally back, sitting with your mom as she started to regain her strength. Or maybe, deep down, you knew you wanted to be here, in his space, no matter how much it scared you.

Tyler’s house was just as you remembered—cozy, and filled with small touches that made it unmistakably his. The scent of cedarwood lingered faintly in the air, and the shelves were dotted with framed photos and little souvenirs from his storm-chasing adventures.

“Make yourself at home,” he’d said, heading into the kitchen to grab drinks. “I’ll be right back.”

You wandered aimlessly, trying to ignore the familiar warmth that settled over you. It felt too easy to picture yourself here again, and that thought sent a pang of unease through you.

As you drifted toward the small desk in the corner of the living room, something caught your eye. The drawer was slightly ajar, and within it, a glint of gold and a small velvet box peeked out. Your curiosity got the better of you, and before you knew it, you were reaching for it.

When you opened the box, your breath caught.

It was the ring. The family ring. The delicate gold band with the intricate etching you’d admired since you were a little girl. The one your mom always said she’d pass down when the time was right.

Your fingers trembled as you held it, a dozen emotions colliding in your chest—shock, confusion, hurt. You didn’t hear Tyler’s footsteps until he was already in the doorway.

He froze when he saw you, his expression unreadable.

“What…” Your voice came out in a whisper, shaking as much as your hands. “How do you have this?”

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “I—” He stopped, as if weighing his words. “I didn’t think you’d find that.”

“That’s not an answer.” You looked up at him, your voice sharper now. “How do you have this? This is my family’s ring. My grandmother’s ring.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened. For a moment, you thought he might deflect or brush it off, but then he sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had it because… I was going to ask you,” he admitted quietly. “Before we broke up.”

The room felt like it tilted beneath you. “You… what?”

“I’d talked to your parents. Asked for their blessing,” he continued, his voice steady but softer now. “Your mom gave me the ring. She said it was tradition, that it would mean something to you. And I thought—” He swallowed hard. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I loved you enough to want to make you mine forever.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “Tyler… why didn’t you tell me?”

His brows furrowed, his frustration evident. “How was I supposed to bring that up? ‘Hey, by the way, I was planning to propose before you ripped my heart out’? It wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation we were having when you left.”

Your chest tightened at the bitterness in his tone. “I didn’t just leave for no reason, Tyler. You were never there. You were always off chasing storms or working on the channel. I felt like I was just… waiting for you to choose me over everything else.”

Tyler’s expression hardened, but his voice didn’t rise. “I wasn’t gone because I didn’t care. I was gone because I was trying to build something for us. To give you the life you deserved. Do you think I wanted to spend all that time away from you?”

“You could’ve told me that!” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Instead, you just kept pushing forward like I was supposed to read your mind. How was I supposed to know you were doing it for me when you never said anything?”

“I thought you knew!” he countered, his voice finally rising. “I thought you understood. I thought what we had was strong enough to get through it. But instead, you walked away without even giving me a chance to explain.”

The room felt unbearably small, the air thick with unspoken pain. Tyler took a step closer, his eyes locking with yours.

“I didn’t know how to fight for someone who had already made it clear she didn’t want me,” he said quietly, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, regret—left you feeling raw and exposed.

Tyler reached for the ring, picking it up from where it rested on the desk. He held it out to you, his hand steady despite the tension in his jaw.

“Take it,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “It’s yours anyway. Keep it, or take it back to your mom’s—I shouldn’t have it anymore.”

You stared at the ring, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of his words, the pain in his eyes, the ring that symbolized everything you’d lost and didn’t know if you could get back—it was all too much.

“I can’t do-,” you whispered, stepping back. “I… I need time to think.”

Tyler’s hand lowered, and for a moment, he looked like he might argue. But then he nodded, slipping the ring back into the box and tucking it away in the drawer.

The argument had left you both emotionally drained, the air in the room thick with all the things unsaid. Tyler had retreated, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone with the silence. You could hear his footsteps as he made his way out the front door and onto the porch. After that, there was only the quiet hum of the house around you. It felt like a heavy kind of stillness—almost suffocating in its weight.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the drawer where the ring had been returned, now hidden away again. Your fingers reached out, pulling open the drawer and picking up the box. You didn’t open the box or look at the ring. You just quietly put the box into your purse. You told yourself you’d give it back to your mom.

Tyler’s house had always held a special place in your heart. The old farmhouse, weathered but sturdy, had been his dream long before you moved in. He’d poured himself into this place, building it up, making it his own. His grandparents’ house, the land that had been in his family for generations—he’d often told you how much it meant to him. The memories of the two of you walking through the fields, sitting on the porch at dusk, talking about the future… it was all a part of him. And yet, it didn’t feel like home in the way it used to. Not anymore.

You’d moved here together once, a promise of a new chapter, a future side by side. And in many ways, it had been your home. A place where you’d shared laughter, arguments, and everything in between. But now, as you stood in the familiar space, everything felt different.

You moved through the house slowly, almost instinctively, as if searching for something—some sign that the past could be healed, that the love you once had could still be found in the cracks of this place. But every room seemed to hold its own kind of sadness, a reminder of what had been lost.

When you reached the kitchen, you ran your hand over the counter, feeling the familiar grooves of the old wood. This was where you used to stand while Tyler cooked dinner, teasing him about his “experimental” dishes, laughing at how he always burned something. He’d smile and tell you that’s why he had you, to make sure you guys didn’t starve. Then he’d pull you into a kiss, the kind of kiss that made you forget about everything else. The kind of kiss that made you feel like nothing could ever tear you apart.

But then, as you stood by the window, your gaze naturally fell outside. The view from here was familiar, the long stretch of land with the barn at the far edge of the property. 

And that’s when you saw him. Tyler.

He was standing outside by the old barn, the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up, the axe gripped firmly in his hands. You watched, your heart dropping a little in your chest. He was splitting wood—heavy, deliberate swings with a rhythm that seemed almost mechanical. You had seen him do this before. It was his way of working out whatever was on his mind, his way of channeling anger or frustration. It was a pattern you knew all too well, one that had been there even before you left.

When he split wood like this, you knew better than to interrupt. It was his space, his time, his way of dealing with things. He didn’t want anyone there. He didn’t want to talk. It was his silent, solitary method of pushing everything down, of pretending that the world around him didn’t hurt.

You felt a sharp pang in your chest as you watched him swing the axe, each strike carrying the weight of things unsaid. Your eyes burned slightly, the tears you hadn’t realized were threatening to fall welling up. 

The sight of him like this—the man you still cared about, the man who had been so much a part of your life—hurt in a way you hadn’t prepared for. You’d hoped that seeing him here, in this space, would make things clearer. But instead, it made you question everything.

Was this your fault? Was he out there, splitting wood because of you? Because of the things you’d said, the things you’d walked away from?

You could almost feel the tension in his every movement, the frustration he was releasing with each swing. He wasn’t angry at the wood. He was angry at everything that had happened between you two—at the distance that had grown, at the things left unsaid. He was angry at himself for not being able to fix it, and maybe, just maybe, angry at you for walking away.

You stood there for a long time, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter, your breath shallow. You wanted to go outside, wanted to talk to him, to ask him to stop. But you knew better. You’d learned that lesson a long time ago. When Tyler was like this, the best thing you could do was give him space. He would come to you when he was ready. But that didn’t make it any easier to watch.

You blinked, trying to clear your eyes, but the image of him out there—alone, working through his pain in silence—stayed with you, heavy and haunting.

You sighed, picking up your bag and making your way to the door. As you stepped out into the cool afternoon air, the weight of the ring seemed to grow heavier in your bag. Walking down the front steps, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything you had with Tyler was still there, just waiting for you to reach out and claim it. But you were scared. Scared of reopening old wounds, scared of trusting again, scared of letting yourself believe that it could work out this time.

As you drove away from the house, the ring resting silently in your bag, you couldn’t help but think about what Tyler had said. For the first time, you started to wonder if you’d been too afraid to face your feelings for him. 

* * * * *

The house was quiet when you finally got back to your parents’ place, the weight of the past few days pressing down on you. The hours spent at the hospital, the conversations with your mom, the raw argument with Tyler—it all swirled in your mind, and you couldn’t seem to escape the echoes of the past.

You were sitting in the living room now, curled up in the old armchair. The dim light from the lamp beside you cast long shadows on the walls, and the soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the house. Your mind was running through everything that had happened. Your mom’s voice rang in your head, reminding you that you were likely pushing Tyler away because you were afraid of getting hurt again. But even as you replayed her words, it was hard to shake the feeling of uncertainty.

It wasn’t love you were lacking. That much was clear to you. The memories of your time together—both the good and the bad—flooded your thoughts, and the love you once shared was still there, even if it was buried under layers of hurt. You could still feel the way your heart had raced when Tyler kissed you, the way he had held you close on the coldest nights. You had loved him with everything you had, and a part of you still did. But now? Now, it felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, too scared to take the leap, too unsure of where it might lead.

Your thoughts drifted to the last few days—Tyler’s quiet presence when you needed him, the way he had shown up, consistently and without hesitation. He brought you coffee when you needed it most, offered to run errands, texted you just to check in. Every little thing he did was a reminder of the person he had become, the one who wanted to be there for you, no matter how hard it might have been for him.

You couldn’t ignore the changes. He wasn’t the same as he had been before. He’d made mistakes, but he’d also shown you that he was willing to work on himself. The way he had apologized, the way he had acknowledged his faults—it was all part of the healing process.

And yet, even now, as you sat there in the silence, your heart was heavy. You were scared to trust again. Scared to believe that this time, things would be different. The fear of repeating past mistakes loomed over you, a constant companion in your thoughts. How could you know for sure that Tyler wouldn’t hurt you again? 

You thought back to the day you broke up—how Tyler had tried so hard to be what you needed but had failed, leaving you to feel abandoned. You remembered the words he said, the frustration in his voice as he admitted he didn’t know how to fix things. But now, you knew he was trying. He wasn’t perfect, but he was showing you he cared in a way that mattered.

Maybe it wasn’t about being perfect. Maybe it was about being willing to try. And for the first time in a long while, you started to wonder if you were ready to take the risk.

As you sat there, you felt the weight of the ring in your pocket, still a physical reminder of what could have been. The family ring. The one Tyler had almost given you. He’d wanted to give you everything, to make you his forever. It stung, thinking about how close he had been to doing that, and how you had walked away before you could even see what might have been.

But maybe now was the time to face what had been left unsaid. Maybe now was the time to acknowledge that you weren’t as afraid of him as you were of what it would mean to trust him again. Maybe it was time to stop holding onto the past and to start letting yourself heal, to start letting him back in.

Your thoughts lingered there for a moment, wondering where things might go if you took that next step, if you allowed yourself to be vulnerable enough to take the chance on him again.

* * * * *

You took a deep breath, staring at the screen of your phone, your finger hovering over the “Send” button. You’d thought about this moment a hundred times, but now that it was here, the weight of it was almost too much.

Tyler. You hadn’t really spoken since that painful argument over the ring. But something in you had shifted. The clarity that came after your reflection—the understanding that your hesitation wasn’t about love, but about trust—had led you to this point. You weren’t ready to give up on him, not yet. You needed to talk, to lay everything out, and to figure out if there was a way forward.

With one last deep breath, you typed out a quick message: Can we talk?

You stared at it for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, and then hit send.

The response came a few minutes later, fast and blunt: Sure. What about?

You hesitated, your mind racing. Can you meet me?

There was a long pause before his reply. You could almost feel his hesitation through the screen: Why can’t we talk now?

You chewed on your bottom lip, heart racing again. I just think we need to talk in person.

Okay. Where?

You agreed on a quiet spot at a local diner, one you used to go to together when things were easier. The diner was just as you remembered it—faded red booths, a flickering neon sign in the window, and the faint smell of coffee and fried food hanging in the air. It had been weeks since you’d sat here with Tyler, sharing laughs over milkshakes and fries. Now, as you pushed open the door, the memories hit you like a wave, bittersweet and unrelenting.

Tyler was already there, seated in the far corner by the window. His back was to you, his shoulders hunched slightly as he stared out at the parking lot. He didn’t look tense—just tired, like someone who had long since stopped hoping for something he knew wasn’t coming.

When he turned at the sound of your footsteps, his expression softened, and he offered a small, polite smile. 

“Hey,” he said, standing as you approached the booth.

“Hey,” you replied, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Thanks for meeting me,” you added, unsure of how to start.

Tyler waved a hand dismissively. “Of course. Everything okay? Is this about your mom or... something else?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by his assumption. He thought this was about your mom—or maybe something unrelated entirely. You realized he hadn’t even considered that this might be about him. That hit you harder than you expected.

“No, she’s fine,” you said quickly. “It’s not about her.”

A waitress appeared with two menus, setting them down before taking your drink orders. Once she walked away, Tyler leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed loosely. “So, what’s on your mind?”

You traced the edge of the menu with your finger, searching for the right words. “I’ve just... been thinking a lot lately,” you started, your voice steady but quiet. “About everything. About us.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t speak right away. When he did, his tone was careful, like he didn’t want to assume too much. “Us?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. Us.”

For the first time, you saw a flicker of something in his expression—hope, maybe, though he tried to mask it. “Okay,” he said slowly, leaning forward now, his elbows resting on the table. “I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “I’ve been thinking about why I’ve been so hesitant... why I haven’t been able to just move on or figure out what I want. And I realized it’s not because I don’t care about you. It’s not because I don’t... love you.”

Tyler’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. 

“It’s because I’m scared,” you continued, pushing through the lump in your throat. “I’m scared of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again. And I know that’s not fair to you, because you’ve done so much to show me you’ve changed. But it’s the truth.”

Tyler leaned back slightly, his hands dropping to the table. His voice, when he spoke, was soft but firm. “I can’t blame you for being scared,” he said. “I don’t. And if I could go back and change the way I handled things back then, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t. All I can do is try to show you now that I’m not that guy anymore.”

You nodded, your heart pounding. “I see that,” you admitted. “And I want to believe it. I do. But this is going to take time, Tyler. If we do this—if we try again—I need to know we’re on the same page.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, his voice full of sincerity. “Whatever you need. Time, space, anything.”

The words hit you with a mix of relief and fear, but you pushed past it, meeting his gaze. “I need honesty. Communication. Consistency. If I’m going to trust you again, I need to know you’re not going to disappear or pull away.”

Tyler reached across the table, his hand stopping just short of yours, as if waiting for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he covered your hand with his, his touch warm and steady. 

“You have my word,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke something open inside you, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—this could work.

“I’m willing to try,” you said softly, your voice trembling just enough to give you away. “But we have to start over. From scratch. No rushing, no expectations. We figure this out one step at a time.”

Tyler’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, the kind that reached his eyes. “One step at a time,” he echoed.

The conversation between you and Tyler drifted into lighter topics as the waitress returned to take your order. You both opted for the diner’s signature cheeseburgers, a choice that made Tyler chuckle.

“Some things never change,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You always did love their fries.”

“And you always managed to steal half of them,” you shot back, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

For a while, it felt easy—almost normal. The tension that had weighed so heavily at the start of the conversation seemed to fade as you reminisced about old times. Tyler told you about the farm and the projects he’d been working on, and you found yourself laughing at his stories about the chickens escaping their pen and wreaking havoc in the garden.

When the food arrived, Tyler immediately reached across the table and snagged one of your fries, grinning mischievously as he popped it into his mouth.

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Consider it interest,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

As the meal wound down, the check arrived, and Tyler reached for it without hesitation.

“Oh, no you don’t,” you said, grabbing for the small black folder.

“I got it,” Tyler said firmly, holding it just out of your reach.

“Tyler, I can pay for mine,” you insisted, leaning across the table in a futile attempt to snatch it.

He shook his head, his grin widening. “You can get the next one.”

“Next one?” you echoed, your cheeks flushing slightly.

He froze for a split second, realizing what he’d said. But instead of backtracking, he leaned forward, his expression softening. “Yeah. Next one.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t argue. Tyler slid his card into the folder and handed it to the waitress, who returned moments later with a receipt for him to sign.

As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, the world felt quieter. The neon sign buzzed faintly above you, casting a soft glow on the sidewalk.

Tyler walked beside you, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. You fell into step together, the sound of your footsteps the only noise between you.

When you reached your car, you paused, turning to face him. He stopped too, standing so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the chill in the air.

“Thanks for dinner,” you said softly.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, Tyler reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before curling gently around your hand.

The simple gesture sent a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in years. You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling at the unspoken promise in his touch.

As you started to pull away, Tyler hesitated. His other hand lifted, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, and when his eyes met yours, they were filled with something quiet and certain.

“Can I—” he started, his voice catching, but you didn’t let him finish.

Instead, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if you were both testing the waters. But as Tyler tilted his head, his free hand moving gently to your waist, it deepened just enough to make your heart race.

When you finally pulled back, your faces were still close, your breath mingling in the cool night air. Tyler’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mixture of wonder and relief.

“Drive safe,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, though it carried the weight of so much more.

“You too,” you replied, your voice steady even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

As you climbed into your car and drove away, you couldn’t stop glancing in the rearview mirror. Tyler stood there on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching until your taillights disappeared into the night.

For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel quite so uncertain.

[cosmicalily]

10:45pm with bang chan - a @cosmicalily timestamp

author’s note: okay hello so where was mr christopher bahng when i was stressing and studying like crazy for my exams? also first channie fic (everyone claps) highkey embarassing that it took me so long apologies to my bahngers

warnings: discussions of anxiety and stress to do with university/school

“Do you want a pudding? Minho dropped them off for us.”

You didn’t reply, body sprawled across the couch. Chris shrugged, assuming you were asleep, picking the small plastic cup up and rifling around in the drawer for a spoon.

“I’m so overwhelmed,” you said suddenly, your voice cracking. He stopped in his tracks, letting the spoon and unopened pudding clatter to the counter. He approached you, gently, resting his hand on your cheek, moving his thumb to wipe under your eye when a tear spilled over.

“Come here,” he said, putting his arms around you as you crawled onto his lap, wrapping your legs tight around his waist. He rubbed circles into your lower back, letting you shove your face into the crook of his neck and dampen his sweatshirt with your tears. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. You always have too much on your mind.”

You sobbed at his kindness, holding him tighter. “It’s just all this shit with my assignments, and then work, too. I keep covering for people but when I’m the one who’s sick, nobody covers for me. And then there’s that girl who just pulls apart every fucking thing I do.”

“That friend of a friend?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “What a bitch.”

“I know, I hate her. I hope her lash tech absolutely botches her next set, eyes swollen, no space between,” you huffed, and Chris laughed.

“That’s my girl, let it out.” he smiled, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Is there anything else you’re still stressing about?”

You sighed. “That assignment. It’s making me nervous, even though I know I can do it. I just don’t want to.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Chris said honestly. “I don’t think there’s anything you’ve done to your ‘worst ability’ that anyone else could do to their best. It’s not everything, baby, I promise you.”

“It’s a sixth of my outcome-”

“Out of the other five parts that you’ve already smashed out. I’m always proud of you, you know that, and it’d make me proud to see you let yourself go a little. I’m here, you know, you can always tell me this stuff. I have the space in my mind for it if it starts to overflow from yours.”

You gave Chris a kiss on his nose, then his cheek, then his lips. “Thanks, baby.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” He hoisted you up, carrying you into the kitchen and setting you down on the counter. He stood between your legs, taking time to properly wipe your tears and press gentle kisses onto your lips. Chris tore off the foil lid of his pudding and dug his spoon in, pressing the cool metal against your mouth. You opened, smiling, letting the cool custard melt onto your tongue. It was comforting, not just the food, but sharing it with him.

He slung one arm around your waist, the other holding his spoon, taking a mouthful for himself then offering one to you. It felt good to have something substantial in your stomach; whilst Chris always made sure you ate properly when studying, you never gave yourself the time to actually enjoy the food, or to have something as a treat. Your stomach would cramp after the third coffee and the second energy drink, but now, it felt calm. 

“You’re too good to me,” you looked up at him, eyes shining.

“Nobody’s good enough to you, sweet girl,” Chris replied. “I wish I could stop everything and give you a moment to breathe. It’ll be over though, someday. I’ll make sure of it.”

“And we can live in a pretty house by the beach with a dog and make out all day?” you asked, giggling.

He smiled. “That’s the dream, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s the dream,” he repeated, pulling you in close.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[taiey]

a minor analysis of Manepear's manipulation (mane-ipulation)

A few thoughts to frame the discussion: Clownpierce has the mace; Clownpierce has not yet died. Clownpierce doesn't log on very often, and of everyone on the server Clownpierce is closest to Kaboodle.

With that in mind... 1hr 13min into 'A New Leaf..?', after a lot of open honest conversation about the war, morality, honour and Mane's potential as an interior decorator, Kaboodle brings up her constancy towards Clownpierce and Manepear starts telling her she should put herself first, because Clown doesn't.

He starts with the basic, obvious facts: Clown doesn't log on very often, he's never attacked Mane for her, he's never sacrificed himself for her like she has for him. Even... Woogie..? backs him up on all that.

Then she starts bringing up counter-examples and he pushes back, with subtle mis-framings like "it would have been easy for him to say I searched for Mapic on purpose so that I could get back for you" when, like, I saw that video and I bet you did too, he said that to Mapicc, and not to Kaboodle. Or brushing off that time he did fight Mane's team as if there's "10 people he knows he's not going to get targeted and if he gets a kill on Main and Flame that would be huge for him", when, uh, it's not that Mane has specific knowledge that the other group chat was considering jumping Clown for the mace earlier in the day, but I do feel that dynamic is sufficiently common knowledge.

I've actually had this thought before because I thought that he was, I was, I was confident that he was betraying me cuz I was thinking like "why would Clownpierce betray and and use everybody except for me? how does that make any sense? why would I be the only one?" and it doesn't make sense like nothing would make me special

Drawing parallels digs into her fears without him directly saying she's not special so as to elicit sympathy and not offense. (and pay no attention to the dissimilarities in their relationships to clown)

I think it was easy for him to defend you from Subz because he knows that he can kill Subz but if it was me in that situation I'm not so sure if he would he would have done the same thing

(y'know i didn't actually notice at the time that uh that's a very different line than his Subz Glazing to Zam&Mapicc)

Mane: did he leave my alliance or did I force him out? Kab: you did force him out Mane: he didn't have a choice not to choose you Kab: yeah that's a horrible... Mane: [crosstalk] he could have at least shot me a DM—wait! Oh my gosh! I just remembered

Things I did not notice on first listen: sorry, when could he have shot you a DM? When you turned on him?? No, no, that segue makes no sense. Mane absolutely did not "just remember". DMs only came into this because he wanted a segue into: his climactic reveal.

When I was looking for your base, I told him about my, my plan to find you using dogs, and he was telling me how to do it more efficiently.

So. Let's look at [the screenshots that i copied off someone else o7]

The first thing that stood out to me, as I was watching the stream, was this: Mane says "he was telling me how to do it more efficiently", and then he lets Kab stew in that for a bit, and then he sends her these screenshots. The framing is set up. But there is not one line in there that is Clown giving Mane advice on how to track her.

The nearest he gets to advice is "she knows when you do tho". Mane glosses that to Kab as "he was telling me exactly what not to do as well", but listen: look at it. The closest he gets to advice is: maybe don't track her. Maybe you shouldn't even try.

Mane asked "what should I say", he relates it like it's another example of advice, which looks like it could lead to advice, and then the screenshot cuts off. And... it's shorter than the first one. We know for an absolute fact that the height is not limited by, say, the height of the screen. It cuts off there because whatever comes after that does not back up the narrative Mane's selling her.

Laughing about her, saying she's scared: it's emotionally affecting, but it's not actionable information. It does not help Mane find Kab. All it does is give the feeling that Clown is on Mane's side.

After exiting the conversation Kaboodle grieves to chat about it; she starts off thinking of it as"actively telling Mane how to find me is, is..." but a few minutes later she's caught on to "if you look at the messages he's not actively selling me out"; she has prior history of coming back the next day going hang on...

Very interested to see how far she gets with it. That thing with the dogs was streamed live; I watched it. The memory of it tickled at my brain, so after today's ended I tracked it down, and found:

Clownpierce: Did he find the manepears? What? Kaboodle: So all the manepears teleported to me when they hit, when he hit them. Clown: [AWKWARD LAUGHTER] Kab, fearless: I'm thousands of blocks away, I'm really far away. Clownpierce: Maybe they... they sometimes do move in the direction they teleport to, maybe he knows the location. Maybe - maybe move around.

Clownpierce was DMing Manepear saying "ok good idea"—and then, on a call with Kaboodle, telling her Mane's tactic and what to do about it.

:)

(He doesn't maximally betray Mane, he doesn't tell her he knows Mane's doing that or tell her before it starts happening; there's a degree of trying to stay on both sides. But he isn't neutral, and he is ultimately, materially, on Kab's side.)

I, like Kaboodle, saw Manepear's "removing all netherite" video and really enjoyed it (the twists genuinely surprised me) but there was this doubt where—videos and not streams usually feel this way to me—I wasn't sure whether, to convince the server that he wasn't the guy on his friend's account, he had to actually convince them. I just knew that was a kind of story he wanted to tell, and hoped he'd try it on Lifesteal.

Now, though, I believe it. I've seen maybe two other fandom people even doubting this. I believe he did because I see he can. And oh my goodness I love it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

💚The Goblin Queen Welcomes You!💚

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏɢ! ɪ’ᴍ ʀᴏᴏ. ɪɴ 1992 ɪ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴜʟ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ʜᴏᴀʀᴅ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛɪᴄᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ.

ᨒ↟ 𖠰My masterlist is @darkmasterlistyouneverasked for. For a direct link, click here: darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor𖠰↟ᨒ

｡𖦹°‧My ao3 is HERE | My ko-fi is HERE｡𖦹°‧ 

I have a community for dark writers on Tumblr. Feel free to DM to join if you’re interested in talking about what you have in the works and other ideas.

Feel free to ask questions in my asks or leave your thoughts on my works!

Below the cut you will find answers to commonly asked questions, useful information regarding dark writing and content, and a little bit about what kind of asks I’ll answer.

𓆣Tips on finding stories𓆣 

use the tags to help find chapters. I tag series by title [or try to] but always by pairing so if you hit character x reader it will help narrow down results or if you hit series or au or anything along those lines it will at least help. please, I do use tags to help y’all as much as me and i hope that you can find stuff easier)

Use my masterlist and the tags there; yes, it’s behind at times.

Google title + chapter number and my blog name; this is often how I have to update masterlists.

𓆑Tips for sending asks𓆑

Please no asks about pregnancy, incest, or bodily fluids

No Celebrity Gossip

I do not will no longer answer questions about how many parts a fic will be, or how dark a fic is, necessary warnings will be included at the top of the fic, nor will I find a fic for you, there are blogs specifically for that. 

DO NOT ASK WHEN THE NEXT UPDATE IS.

I encourage you to ask about fics and chat and discuss plot points, characters, headcanons, and all sorts of fun! 

𓆈Suggestions for interacting𓆈

Please don’t ask for more. If all you have to say is I want more, you better just keep scrolling.

Please reply to others respectfully on my posts (generally you should do this).

Feel free to scream at and with me too!

𖧧Resources on Non-Consent and Fiction𖧧

The nature of women's rape fantasies: an analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents

Why Do Women Have Rape Fantasies? 

Why Do Women Have Sexual Fantasies of Rape?

Need Some Help? 

Mental Health Resources 

Global Mental Health Resources

[bonefall]

Clan Culture Illustrations

So I've been mentioning this in passing, and I think now is a good time to start collecting info from people who are interested!

I'm seeking artists who want to draw stuff for my Clan Culture series.

I often write very large guides for things like tools, ecology, medicine and treatments, etc, which then get held up by the fact that they're big blocks of text without any fun pictures. I usually collaborate with friends and family, but I could put out more quicker if I had some artists on standby.

If you're an artist who would be interested in illustrating, here's the details;

Everything I make on this blog is tailored towards WC fans, but free for anyone to use and reference for their xenofiction worldbuilding projects. You do not have to be intimately familiar with the Warrior Cats books. This offer's open to anyone above 18.

Fans of Better Bones are preferred, because Clan Culture and BB often intersect. I might ask for help with some BB stuff at some point, too. (for example i have a guide on types of StarClan spirits that needs illustration)

To re-iterate, please only inquire if you're 18+

Price range is 20 - 50 USD and turnaround time can be up to 6 months if you just keep me updated. (I am sorry that I can't offer a higher price for these, but this is coming from my own pocket. In return, this is meant to be low pressure)

Half payment upfront, the rest after completion.

I will never "assign" you a surprise mystery topic (unless you ask for that I guess?), I'll either present you with a list of posts that need illustration (yes this means you get to read stuff early), OR float some ideas that play to your strengths and interests. (for example: if I'm approached by Spider-Enjoyer-9000 who's willing to draw a ridiculous number of spiders, I will draft, write, and research a Clanmew Expansion in the style of Deer and Co or Moths and Butterflies.)

Either way, there's usually a lot of creative freedom here unless I need a specific technical drawing, which I will discuss with you and provide references for. (As an example, if we were talking about a post on declawing, I might ask for you to illustrate the muscles within the paw.)

The nature of Clan Culture means you will probably be asked to draw plants, food, objects, and/or scenery

Still interested?

I'm hoping to make a personal "list" of people I can call on, so send me your commissions info or details in a DM, an ask, a reply to this post, or anything else you'd like. Tell me about stuff you like drawing, topics you're interested in, if you can draw backgrounds, etc

Also, please tell include in that message if you're comfortable with illustrating these particular sensitive topics. These are opt-in only;

Medical Gore (Woundcare, stitching, blood, vomit, urine, parasites and bug bites, etc.)

Reproductive Care (Abortion, birth, pyometria, inducing lactation, possible revamp of the HRT guide including simple surgeries, etc)

Hunting and Butchery (Humane killing of prey, skinning, disembowelment, cutting meat, making sausage and blood pudding, etc)

Funerals and Animal Death (Sad kitties, dead battle cats, scavengers and grave desecration, tombs and burial rituals, concealing decay, etc.)

The end art will always stay tasteful, but I might need to give you references in the form of real images or tutorials that might be upsetting if you're sensitive to these topics-- so it's important to me that I consider those four things "opt-in."

I have plenty of other posts that need illustration, it's just a huge plus if you're able to do these too.

(You should also mention any other specific triggers or phobias you have, so I don't unwittingly come at you with something else upsetting)

"I still have questions!"

Putting a big list of answers beneath the cut;

"Would everything have to be colored?"

Nope, as long as there's pictures to break up the text, you can do sketches, black and white, flat colors, only put color in the header, etc. We'll discuss expectations with the post in front of us, and then agree on price.

I have ONE requirement; it's gotta look good on Tumblr darkmode. Because I use Dark Reader.

"Do you have a Discord?"

I do, I just try to be exclusive with who I give it to! When we're discussing details, we'll probably move over there if you'd like. This is a reason why I only want to work with 18+ artists, I'm not always SFW on main.

"Can we do an entry together about (specific topic)?"

Probably yes, so feel free to ask! The worst that will happen is that I say no, or maybe later. For example, I've got a post on Sweetness Tolerance reserved for my partner (they like to draw sweets), so I would say no if you asked.

Just keep in mind that researching, outlining, and writing is unpaid labor I'm doing completely for free. I have posts mostly done that just need art, and topics I've done some research on. Please only ask for special collaborations from scratch if you're serious 🙏

"Does it have to be digital?"

You'd have to have a WILD idea for me to say yes to anything non-digital, but I am a queer of whimsy. If you can whimsify me with an idea, hell yeah.

"Will I be compensated if you need any changes?"

Yes. If I spring anything on you after the details we agree on, I will first ask you, then ask how much that change would cost, and then compensate you for it.

As fair warning though, I am trying to stay within a budget and writing the posts themselves is unpaid work I do (plus occasional helping hands during research stages, I consulted a friend who is an irl wetlands expert for ShadowClan's environment). I can't pay more than what we agree on.

"Can I link my info in the post?"

Yes. "Guest Artist" is going to be named in the opening paragraphs, along with any fundraiser, shop info, carrd, etc, you want there.

"Boosty?"

Yea I got Boosty. Paypal, too.

"I have some other question about pricing"

Feel free to ask, but my hard budget is 20$ - 50$ US. Please only inquire if you're willing to charge within that range.

"What if I'd do it free or I want to do this anonymously?"

I'll donate to a charity of your choice and link to it in the post. If you have no charity preference, I will link to RAINN, Anera, or The Trevor Project.

(Naturally this comes with an anti-ghoul caveat or two. If you try to get me to donate to something like Autism Speaks I will rotate every bone in your body by 45 degrees.)

"I like checklists, can you give me a checklist of info you want in a DM?"

Sure!

Your info; socials, carrd, shop, etc

General interests and strengths. Stuff you'd love to work on, or have insight to. If you like fishing or drawing bugs, I want to know that. If you particularly want to practice flowers, tell me. Be as detailed as you want so I can pair you with a relevant subject!

Your examples

General asking price (or charity)

Which, if any, of the four Opt-In Subjects you're opting in for.

Anything else I should know (triggers, phobias, things you dislike drawing, if schooling or disability means you need a particularly long turnaround time, etc)

[evilmiku]

I am opening up Icon Commissions for Palestine, Sudan, and Congo:

If you donate to one of the organizations listed below and message me a receipt/proof confirming you have made a donation, I will draw you an icon. The style can be just about anything, but I will only draw one character and the drawing will not go past the collarbone. Additionally the MINIMUM DONATION is $15 USD, but I encourage you to donate more if you are able.

Rules and Guidelines:

- I reserve the right to refuse a commission for any reason I deem necessary. If you want a commission from me please discuss your request with me before making your payment.

- You must have made a donation after this post has gone up. I appreciate those who have already made donation, however please understand the point of these commissions is to encourage new donations. Orgainizations by Country: Palestine:

PCRF

WFP

eSims for Gaza HIGH PRIORITY

Care for Gaza HIGH PRIORITY

Sudan:

Save the Children

Sudan Emergency Appeal

SAPA

Congo:

WFP

Save the Children

If you have any questions, or would like suggest an alternative Charity, feel free to send me an ask or dm. If you are seeing this and are uninterested in commissioning me please consider donating to one of the charities above and reblog this post. Thank you.

[eunandonly]

today i received a comment on this post where i was addressing the hate jungwon was getting for dating and smoking allegations. this blog, or @/sighdeepseeker talked about how jungwon denied the accusations when he could’ve just done “whatever stupid he wants” and “stay quiet like idols always do”. they stated that they believe jungwon is lying, which they claimed was the reason for their hate toward jungwon after all the “sincerity and genuine claims”.

this led me to click into their blog, and just five seconds in, i found post after post of them hating on jungwon. they labelled him as “stupid” and said they’re hoping the hate on jungwon is still going on. (1) they also called him a “fake, sneaky liar”. not only this, they also referenced to dating rumours between jay and an unknown woman, but stated that it was better than the rumours between jungwon and winter since the woman seemed to be a non-celebrity. (2) — keep reading

(1) to (2) from left to right

they also expressed hate towards enhypen as a group, claiming they are just getting “worse and worse” (3) and said “lets wait next mistakes and horrible things since that’s all enhypen is”. they also said that ni-ki “apparently lacks intelligence too”. (2)

(3) to (2) from left to right

most of the hate seem to be directed towards jungwon and ni-ki, the “two most stupid youngest members” they hinted that they would hate on sunghoon as well if he got any dating allegations with ive’s wonyoung but said “but at least we don’t have that kind of images of them so so far everything is ok” (2) <- refer to photo on top right.

i also found a few posts on their blog hating on winter or referencing towards her without using her name in various different posts. (4) (5) they even called winter a pedophile for allegedly dating someone younger. (6)

(4), (5), (6) from left to right

the person behind this blog seems to be struggling with anxiety if what they’re saying is true (7) and seem concerningly obsessed with not just jungwon but enhypen as a whole. (8)

(7) to (8) from left to right

but i believe this, whether we do or do not know is true, isn’t an excuse to hate on jungwon, the other enhypen members or anyone in general. there’s a boundary that must not be crossed between idols and so-called “fans” or haters. it’s important to remember that idols are humans too with emotions and feelings.

i was discussing this with @wonziz and we both believe hate towards innocent idols should not be tolerated. we both know that we can’t know how idols act off screen. but as fans, we accept instead of judging or hating when there’s no reason for harsh criticism and hate. [nini’s post]

please block / report this account so we can stop malicious posts towards jungwon, the enhypen members and winter. none of them deserve to hear or see these types of hateful comments. please refrain from sending asks/dms/comments to the blog i was talking about in this post. we never know what someone might be going through. i don’t want any hate towards them, only for the malicious posts to stop.

if this is a satire account, it should have been specified, and even if it was, the things posted are still extremely hateful.

tagging: @wonziz @saemisic @flufflights @htaesan @itjengirl @flwrstqr @okwonyo @amouriu @yuvany @lilyberyls @sugarikiz

[gaveyouigaveyoui]

Swiftie Sleepover Saturday™️ : A Weekly, Saturday Event for Swifties to Enjoy

Hello all! My name is Jen, and I've been a Swiftie since 2008. I wanted to organize a fun, weekly sleepover event where we can have fun discussions, analyze lyrics, post beautiful edits, take polls, and connect with each other in so many other ways through our love of Taylor and her works of art! Each week will have a new theme or discussion prompt, please post all contributions with:

#Swiftie Sleepover Saturday

If you have any fun suggestions for a theme for one week, feel free to submit them to me via my ask box! Also, if you're a poll or edit blog and want to connect for a special event don't be afraid to send a dm or ask! Some things that will be covered during Swiftie Sleepover Saturday:

Polls

Lyrical Analyses

General Discussion

Current Events

Gif/Edit Post Events

Poetry/Writing/Fanfic Events

Other Special Events

Everyone is welcome, kindness only, please have fun with this! First day will be Saturday, February 8th!

Swiftie Sleepover Saturday Specifics!

Each week the day before Saturday I will post a topic, question, or any other discussion along with some polls and edits that you can feel free to add to and interact with! This is a fun, Swiftie-friendly event that welcomes all and I am thrilled to hear your thoughts on the many topics we're going to cover! These will range from songs to themes to award shows and much more, and I can't wait to to see how you all get into it! You can get involved by posting polls, edits and graphics, text posts, poetry/writing, and anything you want! Some weeks will ask for some of those specific things so stay tuned! Please tag

#Swiftie Sleepover Saturday

Every weekend, the topic can be posted about/discussed for the remainder of the week following, but remember to check in for something new each Saturday!

Please be kind and gentle to those around you. Anyone displaying aggressive, rude, bullying, cruel, or inappropriate behavior will be blocked immediately. THIS IS A SAFE SPACE for all swifties!!!!!!

Some example topics include:

The use of rain in Taylor's lyrics The song Chloe Et Al Grammys Fashion in 2013

If you have any questions or concerns my ask box and dms are always open to you! This is an event meant to create fun. togetherness, and joy. Enjoy!