#Reconnecting

[lolliepopper]

live footage of me before & after grounding 🌱🦫🧚‍♂️

[bucephaly]

"There's a difference between those who see themselves merely as a Native descendant, versus those who embrace their Native roots as being a living and integral part of who they are. One who considers themselves only a descendant says things like, "I'm 1/16th (insert random popularized Native Nation title)” or, "My great grandmother was a Cherokee princess."

This statement may or may not be true, but either way its declaration is largely anecdotal, and only acknowledged when it's perceived as beneficial to them, i.e. a job, a scholarship, a new boyfriend's Pocahottie fetish, or as an excuse for why it's ok for them to wear a headdress while half dressed and drunk on Halloween or at a concert, festival, or sporting event.

These folks will go weeks, months or years without considering their Native ancestry and it's certainly not a part of their everyday lives.

That's why they don't care about the tragedy of missing and murdered Indigenous women, treaty rights, or extreme poverty in Native communities.

While not a “full blood” others with mixed ancestry can and do embrace their Native roots and a sense of ownership takes place.

When they see race based mascots or ridiculous Native caricatures, they don't see some remote extinct group being "honored." They see that they personally are being mocked, and know they are not a buckskin pantied sexbot, or a silly redskinned stereotype.

They know Natives are alive, human and real because they are Native. They also understand that the land and water and our ceremonies must be protected, because it is theirs as well as their grandparent's, and children's, and children's children.

They are not just descendants- they are Native. As such they will seek out the truth of their heritage and you will find them thirsting for knowledge about their people, culture, language, and ways. They become part of the whole- from tiospaye to Oyate."

-Ruth H. Hopkins

[hairmetal666]

There's a boy, Eddie meets a boy, and it's mundane because they're boys and it's summer and they find each other like lonely boys in summer do. It shouldn't be the defining experience of Eddie's life, that summer, that boy. His memories are all sun drenched, tanned skin, minnow catching, swimming, camping under the stars, a fumbling, toasted-marshmallow-sticky first kiss. He grows up and still Eddie thinks there will never be anyone else like that boy.

---

There's this new teen soap schlock on the CW. It fills his social media algorithms with gossip and BTS footage and spoilers. He ignores every bit of it, so far from the target audience it's laughable.

Jeff, Gareth, and Freak get into it. At first, he takes this as a betrayal of the highest order, threatens to kill all their characters in their next dnd session, but they convince him to give it a shot.

It's airs Thursday nights and thank god Wayne is at work, he'd never live it down. He turns the TV on just in time for the cold open, and within ten seconds there's a beautiful man on screen. Chestnut hair, coiffed carefully back; down-turned, hazel puppy dog eyes; freckles and moles dotting his face and neck--Eddie would recognize them anywhere, spent hours mapping the constellations of them during their one magical summer.

He sinks to his knees in front of the TV--nose inches from the screen--watches the whole episode that way. For the entire hour, the only thing he sees is Steve Harrington.

Eddie doesn't move until after the credits have rolled. He can't believe that the boy he knew all those years ago is an actor on a popular show, that he'd just missed finding him, all this time.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he Googles, which is a mistake immediately, because the most popular pictures are from a GQ photoshoot where Steve is very wet and very shirtless, the amount of chest hair on display enough to kill a man. He forgets how to breathe for several seconds, before quickly scrolling away, which is also a mistake because it's how he learns that Steve 1) dated his castmate, Nancy Wheeler for several years before 2) she got caught cheating on him with another castmate, and 3) he's often seen out and about with his current on-screen girlfriend, Robin Buckley.

For his own sanity, he has to put his phone away. It isn't like he's going to see Steve ever again, obviously, so he needs to forget all this. Keep the memory of that summer safe.

---

It's late spring and Gareth invites them all to their favorite bar in Indianapolis. One of their friends from their Corroded Coffin days got a gig playing bass for some up and coming indie guy, tickets and drinks are comped. It's not their usual vibe, musically, but who is Eddie to say no to a free night out?

And, look, night of, the music isn't his vibe, but the place is packed and he's with his best friends, and the drinks are flowing, so even he finds himself swaying along to the whiney hipster shit coming from the stage.

Eventually, the lights go down for the headliner, and the crowd crushes forward in a way Eddie isn't used to in this bar. He lets himself be pushed forward, somehow ending up right in front of the stage.

When the lights go up, he stops breathing.

It's Steve.

Steve right there in front of him, guitar strapped across his midsection. He's wearing dorky little Ray-Ban sunglasses, but Eddie would know that hair, those moles, anywhere.

There's no way Steve will notice him, remember him, but it's enough to see him now, to hear his music. Eddie dances and smiles at the boy who got away. Maybe he'll mourn later for the distant hope he harbored deep within his heart. But, he thinks, this is enough.

Steve comes out for the encore, takes off the sunglasses, tosses them straight to Eddie, smiles big and genuine and familiar. His heart stops. It can't be real, it can't mean anything, but he's so elated that his soul might rise from his body.

The show ends, the buzz of it, of Steve, reverberating through Eddie as he makes his way back to the bar. It's crowded with people, but he slides through the bodies until he's at the front. Someone taps him on the back, and he thinks they're trying to get through, but when he turns it's Steve.

His smile is so beautiful, Eddie thinks that maybe he's dying.

"Eddie!" Steve says.

"Stevie!" He doesn't mean for the old nickname to come out, couldn't keep it in.

"You remember me!" Steve is beaming.

"I'd never forget you." He's smiling just as hard. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Steve's nose wrinkles. "I've got, like, fifty coming. We could go somewhere quiet to talk?"

He's never said yes to something so fast in his life.

They go back to the postage stamp sized green room, and he's surprised to see Robin Buckley there. His stomach shrivels for a second, but she stands and he sees the lesbian flag painted on the side of her Converse, the oversized vest she's wearing.

"You want me to skedaddle?" She asks. He loves her immediately.

"Do you mind?" Steve asks. Robin shakes her head.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie," she calls as she sails out the door.

"You told her about me?" He knows his smile is downright goofy.

Steve blushes. "Um, yeah. Maybe a little? Just that I met a boy from near here one summer. And, uh, maybe something about him being my first kiss?"

"Oh." Eddie thinks he might burst into flame. "I wasn't sure if--I didn't know if you'd remember."

"I'd never forget," Steve says.

"You got famous." Eddie says, which is dumb, but he doesn't know how to deal with Steve cherishing those childhood memories the same way he does.

"I guess I did." Steve looks down, hair tumbling around his face. "It's probably not what you were expecting."

"Did I expect to turn on the tv and see my first crush staring at me in HD? Not quite. But It was amazing. You're amazing."

"I'm on a CW show," Steve laughs.

"So?"

"I think maybe you're a little biased about your first crush."

"Are you saying that's a bad thing?" They're flirting, he thinks. Can't believe it's happening, that Steve might--

"Well, maybe, but only if you tell me you don't have a crush on me anymore."

"Are you kidding? I saw that GQ photoshoot."

Steve's laugh is loud and bright, like fireworks in Eddie's chest. They're closer now, sharing warmth, breath.

"I have some candids if you want to see."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Stevie."

They're quiet for a second, Eddie a little breathless from how hard they're flirting, how right it feels.

"You were great out there," he says.

"Thanks." Steve smiles, bashful. "I know it's not your kind of music."

Eddie shrugs. "I like what you do."

"And to think, you've barely gotten a taste yet." Steve pauses for a beat, horror dawning on his face. "Oh, shit. That was--I'm sorry--I--Robin says I always come on too strong, and I promised I would play it cool, but--"

"You never have to play it cool with me," Eddie says, sincere through his laughter.

"This is fast, though, right? I mean. The second I saw you in the crowd, it--it confirmed everything I thought when we first met. That's--is that crazy?"

Eddie's smile is softer now. "Not at all." Gently, he cups Steve's cheek with his hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please," Steve breathes. "God, Eddie, please."

Their mouths meet and it starts out sweet and slow, but it's not childhood crushes anymore. Eddie's tongue teases at the seam of Steve's lips, which part for him like he's the only one in the world with the magic words.

It's sweeter than any marshmallow.

[rib-rabbitmask]

Here goes my fanarts arts (and the only ones who are Deltarune related) of the DELTA MAGMA event.

Hosted by me...

The main ones (in order) were made for:

#1 - @lilybug-02 - Chara Timeline

Charaters: Kris, Chara and Asriel.

#2 - @akanemnon - Twin Runes

Charaters: Kris, Chara and Frisk + Lesslo and the Grand Priestess.

#3 - @purplebehittindifferent - Reconneting

Charaters: Player and Berdly + Tenna and 'C'.

.

I apologize for not many fanarts about the other creatoer aus, but i lost the motivitaion to do so with how failed this magma was... The focus was to work with other fans of our community to do beautiful artwork and fanarts about deltarune and the aus based on the main game. Sadly, i hardly bet i'll be doing something like this again with the lack of interest and time of both my followers and creators of the community.

Thank you for your attetion. 💖

.

[purplebehittindifferent]

I have added a quirky comment here for the last year and a half, however now… I have no words.

jk I have all these words 👇

I know it is very bitter sweet, but this is the end of Reconnecting. Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me. I plan on making a behind the scenes video on my YT sometime soon. Feel free to send any asks you have I want to answer them all!

Please know I am not going to dissapear! I still plan on making content consistently, and my original comic RULE 5 is already underway, and if you’d like I’m certainly not against writing some exposition fics for Reconnecting 💜

masterpost

Prev (3::8) / This is the End 💜

[marshiemonarch]

Y'all think they would get along?

(feat. Reconnecting by @purplebehittindifferent, Chara Timeline by @lilybug-02, and my own AU (that will maybe one day get a comic of its own ;w;)

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ [ch.2] for when you see me

Songs on the charts, sold-out shows, the kind of career most musicians dream about—everything’s perfect. But success doesn’t fill the emptiness. And then, just when you think you’ve moved on—there he is. Your past, standing in front of you like a love song you never finished.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park jongseong x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — male reader, jay x reader, estranged exes to lovers, famous singer!reader because we're built like that, is this angst? i have no clue, memories of your past together just hits hard ughhhh, jay has a new lover omg the drama-mama-mamah, you are dramatic as hell but we love you for you, you are insane to still think of him, i understand though you are in love with jay we see each other WE SEE EACH OTHER, more to come!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — use of male pronouns, has some implied relationships, swear words, mentions and use of alcoholic substances, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl, story update lengths may vary~

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ way back into love : the full masterlist

The whiskey still burned in your chest when you woke up. You hated the feeling of alcohol within your system, but god does it soothe your tangled mess of a head.

Sunlight stabbed through the blinds, unforgiving. You groaned, rolling onto your side, half-expecting the bed to dip under someone else’s weight. But the sheets were cold. Empty.

Just like always.

The CD player had long since shut off, but the song still looped in your skull.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes until colors burst behind your lids.

Pathetic.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Leah’s name flashed across the screen, followed by a string of texts:

Leah: u alive?

Leah: also sarah says sorry abt last night. she didn’t know it was ‘that song’

Leah: …u gonna answer or am i sending mira over?

You typed back with one thumb.

You: i’m fine. don’t worry.

A lie. But what else was new?

The boxes in the corner taunted you. You’d only opened one last night, and already it felt like picking at a scab. The rest were a minefield of old playlists, ticket stubs, and the kind of photos that made your ribs ache.

You kicked the nearest one under the bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

The day was bright and bold. You set yourself up on your feet and got ready. Today is work day.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

“Going to Floor 26.” The pristine elevator voice echoed around you as you got in it.

The studio was your sanctuary. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Atlas Records had given you the space after your first album surprisingly went platinum immediately after it was released (only days before it went double.) It was a token, a ‘reward,’ they’d called it. As if the pristine soundboards, the premium tech setup and gears, and some Grade-A acoustic paneling could make up for the fact that they owned you.

You slumped into the chair, scrolling through the latest track list your producer had shoved at you: that and a mere bunch of memos from the people upstairs.

Upbeat. Radio-friendly. More of what’s working, just like last cycle.

You crumpled the stupid paper into a ball and threw it straight into the can.

"Rough night?" You almost flinched as you heard a booming voice behind you.

Mira, your manager, leaned against the doorframe, sipping a matcha latte with extra foam. Walking just enough meters beside you, she offered another cup with the same taste — your favorite.

"Something like that," you muttered, taking the cup and popping the lid off instantly. You smelled the fresh aroma, before sipping soundly.

She arched a brow. "Leah’s wedding, right? Tell me about it."

You strummed a dissonant chord on the nearby guitar. "Played ‘Wonderwall.’ The crowd loved it."

Mira didn’t laugh, sitting with her back against one of your designer chairs. "Liar liar, pants on fire."

You shrugged. "It’s in my contract. Must lie convincingly to press."

“Press!? We lived in the same roof for a year and that’s all I am to you?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m famous.”

She groaned, taking it lightly. But then her eyes flicked to your hands—the way your fingers trembled ever so slightly against the strings.

"Who was it?" she asked, softer.

You didn’t answer. You could feel her eyes burning through your thick skull as if almost reading the contents of your brain.

She exhaled. "Take the day, hmm? Sleep it off. We can push the schedule to—"

"I’m fine." You grabbed the nearest lyric sheet, jaw tight. You sat across her in your leather chair, focusing on sorting out the busy contents of your workspace before speaking yet again. "Let’s just work. We’ve got three hours before we go, yeah?"

Mira studied you for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah.”

After taking a long winding breath, she slowly went to the door to take her leave.

“If you start crying into the microphone later, I’m charging you for ruined equipment." She retorted one last second.

“Blah blah, go do your manager things!” You smiled as you tried to throw a crumpled sheet to her.

“Alright, alright!” She shut the door gently, leaving you alone on your vices.

Right ... you were going to sing today. A lot.

When you least expected it, the skill you had fun as a hobby had already become a chore.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

The neon sign outside flickered—YE OLD TAVERN—in all its peeling, ironic glory.

You hadn't set foot in this place since your university years. Back when sticky tables and cheap beer felt like an adventure, not exhaustion. Back when he was still beside you, laughing into his drink as you butchered a karaoke song.

Now, the bar was packed—word had spread about the "intimate, unplugged" tour Atlas had forced you into. Authenticity sells, they'd said. Fans eat this shit up.

You just wanted nothing but sleep.

"Five minutes," Mira muttered, nudging you toward the old stage—a vintage relic of this bar’s storied past, all with a single mic stand waiting.

The crowd was a blur of your fans; young adults like you, some adults that you remind of their youth, and a lot of younger people that definitely fit the criteria of modern fans, holding up LED signs and phone screens. You adjusted the guitar strap digging into your shoulder and forced a smile.

Your signature voice flowed through the space like a gentle autumn breeze, carrying warmth and nostalgia with every note. The raw emotion in your delivery resonated deeply with your supporters, who hung on every word and inflection.

You can definitely see it in their eyes. They were enamored by you.

Your voice filled the room with a simple kind of magic. The crowd melted into the music as you sang, each word honest and raw. This wasn't just another show - it was real, and everyone could feel it.

Then you saw him.

Blond hair, roughly swept back to the side like he'd run a hand through it one too many times. Broad shoulders under a fitted black shirt. That face—sharp, unfairly handsome, watching you with an intensity that made your fingers twitch against the strings.

Jay.

Right there. On the side of the bar area, sat on a comfy wooden stool.

Your breath caught. And his too.

He hadn't meant to come.

But then he'd seen the posters outside the tavern—your name in bold letters—and suddenly he was nineteen again, sneaking in with his new ID just to see you play again and not miss his shot.

Now, he‘s frozen as he sees you perform so whole heartedly under the might of a single incandescent light.

You looked beautiful. Real.

Not the polished version from magazines or Leah's wedding—where you'd stiffened the second Sarah requested that song. Where your voice had cracked on the chorus, raw in a way no studio could autotune.

Where he’s just able to see you again.

And now here you were, strumming the opening chords of something new—voice low, rougher than he remembered. The crowd swayed, but Jay didn't move.

Couldn't.

Not when you glanced up mid-verse, gaze snagging on his like a caught breath.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚

You finished the set in a daze.

No one noticed the way your hands shook. No one except him.

Backstage—if you could call a storage room with a large old leather loveseat a ‘backstage’—Mira shoved a bottle of branded distilled water into your hands. "Good crowd. Atlas'll be happy."

You didn't answer.

Mira sighed, looking at you with that same concern yet again. She knows your situation, and she feels bad being so helpless and useless to ease your pain the way you want.

She taps your shoulder and presents a light grin back at you. "Van’s out back. Avoid the fans, yeah?"

You nodded, seeing her leave the room shortly.

Until when can you stomach this feeling? This sensation? Being trapped in world you dreamed of was never in your plans, yet here you are, sitting inside your gilded cage.

As you took a deep breath, you fixed your hair and showered yourself in your favorite perfume yet again. You took a faithful step and approached the exit.

When your senses met the stench of New York’s streets opposite the alley door, Jay was already there. Leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed, like he'd been waiting for years.

"Hey," he said.

The streetlight caught the gold in his hair. God, he looked good.

"Hi." Your voice came out hoarse. You walked slowly, approaching him with some needy caution. Just for yourself.

A beat of silence passed. Then Jay pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "You killed it in there."

You scoffed. "It was a dive bar, Jay."

"Yeah. Our dive bar."

The words hung between you. Quiet, and more of that still silence.

“The dim lights suit your features.”

You shot up a glance towards Jay, hearing him say such a ridiculous thing in the middle of your self-inflicted turmoil.

You could say the same for him.

Right then, you forced yourself to look away. "Shouldn't you be with … Naomi, right?"

Jay's jaw tightened, his hands flexing against his sharp jaw. "I … wanted to see you."

Why?

You didn't ask. Couldn't possibly.

Instead, you watched as he pulled something from his pocket—a crisp white card.

PARK JONGSEONG, with some unreadable fine print at the side you couldn’t see much under the street lights. His name is embossed in sleek black and accents of regal purple.

"If you ever want to grab matcha," he said, holding it out. "No pressure."

You stared at it. Four years ago, you'd have taken it without hesitation.

Now?

"Jay," you said softly, "what about … her?"

As he opened his mouth—

Ring.

His phone lit up. As your curious eyes darted over, the name span the screen. Naomi.

Jay cursed under his breath, still not answering as he held out for your advise.

"I should—"

"Yeah." You stepped back. "I don’t mind."

He hesitated, card still extended. "Just please... think about it."

Nervous as you can be, you took the card in hesitation.

“A card, huh?” You flipped the sheet of stiff paper on your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Jay perked up his one-sided smile, genuinely happy at the gesture. You couldn’t help but smile back — it was contagious when you see Jay act that way.

“Park Jongseong … got your whole government name here too, hehe.” Jay couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that comment, and neither could you.

Then he was gone—turning by the corner—swallowed by the city lights.

You stood there, fingers clenched around his card, until Mira honked the car horn.

“Drive or bust, superstar!”

Lost in thought, his voice played like a broken record in your head.

Think about it.

As if you could do anything else.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — HAHAHA THE GODS HAVE GIVEN ME THE SIGN SO ITS UPDATE TIME AND OH WE'RE IN CHAPTER 2!! what is all the juice abouttt, find out next chapter~ also excited for en-chella!! GO TEAM WOOOOOO

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ story taglist — tagging @kaiyunsim @firstclassjaylee @ryes-brownies08

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ can i join the masterlist? — sure! i do frequent posts and updates so just be warned! leave a reply on any posts and i'll add ya in the future updates, much love~ 

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ way back into love : the full masterlist

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

my masterlist! | don't forget to reblog! | made by writhyv 💘

[downfalldestiny]

Unplug not to escape life, but to find it 🌊 !.

[eroticlamb]

y1n_n1y

[ejsuperstar]

Kris (plural)

Twinrunes by @/akanemnon Chara Timeline by @/lilybug-02 Reconnecting by @/purplebehittindifferent

[passivenovember]

thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.

Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--

So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.

And then they find each other.

--

Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.

It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"

"--Why answer the phone?"

Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"

"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"

"I don't like being impolite."

Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"

"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.

"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.

Steve can hear a smile.

Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."

"So what?"

"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."

Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"

"What? You?"

"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."

"So did you--"

"--Fell outta my dreams."

"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.

"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."

Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."

"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."

"Sure, you didn't."

Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."

"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."

Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"

"Ha-ha."

"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"

Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.

"Harrington, I need to see you again."

"Need is kind of dramatic."

"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."

"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"

"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."

Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"

"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"

"--God, you are feeling dramatic."

"When can I see you?"

"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"

"Not sure."

Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."

"Tonight. I'll make it rain."

Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."

"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."

"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.

Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"

"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"

"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"

"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"

The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"

"--Aren't gonna eat you out."

"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."

"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"

"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."

"What's wrong with--"

"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."

"What about a sleep over?"

"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"

"Or I come over to yours, yeah."

"But--"

"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."

"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.

Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."

"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."

"I'm gay."

"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"

"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.

So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"

"I never said that."

"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."

Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.

Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"

Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.

He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.

Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.

Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--

"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.

Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"

Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"

"Damn--"

"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"

"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."

Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.

"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.

And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"For what?"

"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."

"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.

"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."

"Great."

"You've got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."

--

That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--

It rains.

[yearinlou]

Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson: Friendship + Reconciliation

Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body//A, Swim Pony, I Loved My Friend//Mikko Harvey, Let the World Have You//Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous//One Direction, History

[bucephaly]

Reconnecting Cherokee Masterpost

I’ve had a few Cherokee posts blow up on here and as a result I’ve gotten lots of ‘my grandma said she was cherokee’ ‘I’m supposed to have Cherokee roots I wish I knew anything about it’ ‘I was never taught anything about my Cherokee ancestry’ type sentiments in my activity. So! I wanna make a little masterpost with some resources on how to verify or disprove these types of family stories and how to get started for those interested in reconnecting!

A little about me and a disclaimer. I’ve not been reconnecting that long, about a year and a half, and before that I didn’t know I was Cherokee. I did not grow up Cherokee and I am white. What I’m going to be talking about is simply resources for genealogy, language, good places to connect online, etc. these are all things I’ve dealt with as I reconnect, but I am not any sort of authority on Cherokee issues or culture. The purpose of this post is to get people who know absolutely nothing about Cherokee identity and community started in learning more and seeing what needs to be done before reconnecting. And I acknowledge that the genealogical records and resources available for Freedmen descendants and Afro-indigenous people may not be as conclusive, and I simply urge Afro-indigenous people to do what research you can. I am also only Cherokee, I can’t speak for how any of this works for other tribes. Now, to get started

I’ll be talking about

Genealogy

Enrollment

Basic info about Reconnecting

and Language

Genealogy

Genealogy is the most important first step for anyone wanting to reconnect, or even just wanting to claim Cherokee ancestry at all. Unless you have done genealogy research that has shown ancestry connecting you to ancestors on the accepted Cherokee rolls or you are or have family who are citizens of one of the 3 federally recognized Cherokee tribes, please do not make claims of Cherokee identity or ancestry.

Fake ‘granny stories’ of Cherokee ancestry are very common, particularly in the South / Appalachia. These stories often go something like ‘my great-grandmother was fullblood Cherokee. She hid out from the soldiers rounding the Cherokee up for the Trail of Tears.’ There are many many variants, such as children being adopted by a white family, being traded away, or just otherwise being left behind or abandoned. I also frequently see ‘they escaped and hid in the mountains,’ ‘they pretended to be white / black,’ etc. Remember, the Trail of Tears happened in 1838, 185 years ago. My ggg grandfather was 2, so unless you are 60+ it would be unlikely that a great grandparent was alive during that period. This mythical great-grandmother is also occasionally an ‘Indian princess.’ There are many excuses for why ancestors might not show up on known Cherokee records, such as ‘the records were burned in a courthouse fire’ or ‘they were intentionally removed from the records,’ etc. Physical features are also claimed to prove stories, such as high cheekbones, dark hair, darker skin, etc. Old family photos showing grandparents with tan skin, etc, are also brought up pretty frequently. None of those prove anything, as many people of European or mixed ancestry can have these traits. Stories like this are also not exclusive to white families, they can definitely be present in Black families as well. These stories are most often entirely fabricated or resulting from a misunderstanding. It’s pretty common to have someone be familiar with the fake stories but convinced that their family story is the one exception and has to be real, which ends up being instantly caught as fake by anyone that knows the history, you’d be surprised haha. Here is a post I’ve made talking about fake stories in more depth.

DNA testing cannot prove descent from any specific Native tribe. An ‘indigenous American’ result on a DNA test does not prove native ancestry, as DNA tests are frequently wrong especially when it comes to ‘trace ancestry’. Nor does a DNA test showing 0 native DNA prove that one doesn’t have native ancestry. DNA tests are a novelty and irrelevant to native genealogy. The only time they are useful is in finding cousins through DNA matches, which can be especially useful for adoptees. Here is a post where I go more in depth on this

Now, getting into actual genealogy, the main process with Cherokee genealogy is fairly simple. I’m not going to go in depth on the process of genealogy in general, there are plenty of resources for that. Get what info you can from your family [names, birthdates, places people lived] of your recent ancestors, then find their census records [census records from 1950 and earlier are publicly available] or what records you can, and go back, finding their parents, etc. The goal is to get around to 1900. See where they were living at that point, as that will effect what rolls they might be on. There are three main Cherokee rolls that are looked at for determining ancestry [but there are other rolls as well]

The Dawes Rolls taken between 1898 - 1914 recorded the Cherokees living in the Western Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory before Oklahoma Statehood. This roll came with allotments, parcels of land given to the Cherokees. Cherokee Freedmen are also recorded on this roll, along with Intermarried and Adopted Whites. This is the roll that CNO and UKB uses for enrollment. Here is where it can be searched.

The Baker Rolls taken between 1924 - 1929 recorded the Cherokees living on the Qualla Boundary in western North Carolina. This is the roll that the EBCI uses for enrollment

The Guion Miller Roll taken between 1906 - 1911 recorded Cherokees living anywhere and was associated with a cash payout.

I can’t find free searchable databases of the Baker or Miller rolls, but you can find them on some ancestry sites like ancestry.com with a membership or free trial. Also, be aware that these rolls all have “Declined” sections of people who applied and were declined for having no proof of ancestry, mostly just applying to try to get money or land meant for Cherokees. This is especially true of the Miller roll, where 2/3rds of the applicants were declined.

If your ancestors aren’t on any of these rolls, can be found in US census records before 1900, or aren’t living in the Cherokee homelands in the early 1800s, they are almost surely not Cherokee. Also, be wary of results on ancestry sites that start cropping up in the 1700s where the only evidence is another person’s family trees. There are many people claiming descent from Dragging Canoe, Chief Moytoy, and others that put these things on their ancestry trees when none of these people have any descendants. And people will just make up entirely fictional people. Just be sure there are actual documents tying them to the Cherokee and to your ancestors [as people will make up fake children of real figures like Nancy Ward as well]

There is a fantastic resource for Cherokee genealogy in the Cherokee Research and Genealogy Facebook group. The researchers are experts on Cherokee genealogy and will run your lines for FREE and determine conclusively whether you have Cherokee ancestry or not. When they find someone with Cherokee ancestry, they will also find your ancestors’ enrollment applications, allotment locations, etc. they’re really fantastic and I highly recommend checking them out and saving yourself the trouble of doing the research yourself. Just read their rules thoroughly. Even if you did do some research, if you hit a wall or just want confirmation, check them out! Especially if you think you found legitimate ancestry, getting them to double check will remove any doubt.

Enrollment

There are three federally-recognized Cherokee tribes. Each has their own community, resources, and different requirements for enrollment. These are: the United Keetoowah Band [UKB] located in Tahlequah, OK, the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians [EBCI] in Cherokee, North Carolina, and the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma [CN or CNO] in Tahlequah, OK. Each of these have distinct histories. Cherokee Nation is the largest by far.

Be wary of fraudulent state-recognized Cherokee tribes. If a Cherokee tribe is not one of the three mentioned above, then it is not recognized by the others as legitimate. These state tribes often take resources that are supposed to be going to legitimate native communities [such as school funding], spread misinformation, etc. These communities often have obviously fake non-Cherokee traits such as ‘naming ceremonies’ and members with laughably stereotypical names like ‘spirit wolf’ and ‘white owl’ lol [also, this is specifically about state tribes claiming to be Cherokee, I can’t speak to the legitimacy of other groups.]

Two of the three Cherokee tribes have a blood quantum requirement. Blood quantum [BQ] is how much ‘native blood’ one has, depicted as a fraction. BQ is a very complex topic in native communities, which I won’t get into here. EBCI has a 1/16 BQ requirement, so to be a citizen you must has 1/16 Eastern Cherokee blood, as well as have an ancestor on the Baker Roll. UKB has a 1/4 BQ requirement, so citizens must have 1/4 Cherokee blood and an ancestor on the Dawes Rolls or the 1949 UKB roll. CNO has no BQ requirement, if an ancestor is listed as By Blood on the Cherokee Dawes Rolls, or listed as a Cherokee Freedman, then you are eligible for CNO citizenship.

Do not come into Cherokee spaces just asking what sort of benefits enrollment can get you. It’s pretty disrespectful and makes it seem like you only care about what you can take from us.

Reconnection

So you did your genealogy and found that you have documented Cherokee ancestry, what next? Reconnection is a long and difficult process and I’ve barely even started, but I’ll try to give what resources and info I can.

Who can reconnect? This can vary between people, but most often I see people [biased towards Cherokees who are active online] saying that anyone with legitimate documented Cherokee ancestry can reconnect. Some people prefer reconnectors are able to enroll in one of the 3 tribes, some prefer people have connected living family, it varies a lot. In my experience as someone who is white and not a citizen yet, if you are respectful and humble, people are pretty accepting. It’s also important to think about why you want to reconnect. You need to be prepared to give back to your people as much if not more than you get. That means learning the language, the history, learn about current issues, etc. Don’t go into it just wanting to be able to say you’re Cherokee as a fun fact or get some sort of monetary benefit. It’s also important to remember that you will get asked to prove yourself. Don’t be offended if you’re asked if you’re enrolled, who your family is, how you’re Cherokee, etc. This is part of our cultural protocols. Not only do we want to keep people with fake family stories from getting into our spaces, we also just like finding relatives! You need to remember your place as a reconnecting Cherokee. Don’t think having legitimate ancestry suddenly means you’re able to talk with authority on native issues or suddenly claim to be oppressed. If you’re white, don’t suddenly start claiming to be a POC or “white-passing,” you can be white and Cherokee. Cherokee is not a race.

Consider Why you want to reconnect. I see a lot of people that want to 'reconnect' seemingly just so they can put cherokee in their bio and feel like part of a special club that can do closed practices and say they're two spirit or whatever. When you reconnect, the most important people will be the rest of the cherokee community. If you're more worried about performing to nonnatives, think long and hard about your priorities.

Reconnecting is a difficult process, especially if you are far from any Cherokee communities. You cannot reconnect alone. You aren’t reconnecting to some distant past, or to stories in a book, you are reconnecting to a living community. This can be tough for people who are far from Oklahoma or North Carolina, and there are some things that are not really possible to learn except in person. But you can still learn, and there are some online spaces. I particularly find the ᎠᏂᏣᎳᎩ ᏍᎦᏚᎩ (Cherokee Community) Facebook Group valuable. It’s kinda small, but it’s one of the best ways to engage with Cherokee community online. Sorry if you’re a Facebook hater, Facebook is going to be your best bet for actually meeting people and engaging. The Cherokee Community group requires proof of ancestry before members can join. This usually just means sending your tribal ID or your thread in the Cherokee Research and Genealogy group to an admin and they’ll let you in.

The best lesson for reconnecting is learning how to shut up and listen. I see way too many people joining cherokee groups as brand new reconnectors and immediately starting to talk and add their input on everything. You need to be able to just watch and learn and take the learning opportunities as they come instead of insisting on having someone go out of their way to teach you. So many people make fools of themselves in this groups by being loud when they have no idea what they're talking about, and insisting they get an Indian name, or wanting tattoos, or wondering if they can say they're two spirit, etc etc all when they don't seem to know anything else about our culture. You need to put work in first. Learn to read syllabary and attend the language classes, look into learning to weave or bead or whatever, get a few books by legit Cherokee authors and read them, binge some osiyo TV, etc etc. Learn what you can give before trying to see what you can take.

Here are some good basic things to check out for reconnecting

OsiyoTV

Cherokee Nation YouTube

Museum of the Cherokee People YouTube

Cherokee Stories of the Turtle Island Liars Club by Chris B Teuton, Hastings Shade, Sequoyah Guess, Sammy Still, and Woody Hansen

Cherokee Earth Dwellers by Chris B Teuton and Hastings Shade

Mooney’s Myths of the Cherokee [note: this was written by a white man in 1900 after after spending some time with the Eastern Cherokee. The history is iffy, but the stories were recorded directly from Cherokee storytellers.]

Trail of Tears: The Rise and Fall of the Cherokee Nation by John Ehle

Do your own research, but be extremely wary of Anything posted publicly online. There is lots of misinformation about Cherokee culture. Personally, I mostly do my learning in the vetted Cherokee Facebook groups, in books written by actual citizens, and by talking with connected friends. Google is rarely your friend in this case.

Language

The language is the center of our culture, it is what makes us Cherokee. It is our duty as Cherokees and as reconnecting people to learn the language. I can’t stress enough how important it is. If you aren’t putting any effort to learn the language, it shows others that you aren’t committed and you will likely have trouble getting any help reconnecting from others, it just looks bad haha. Not saying you have to be fluent overnight, I’ve been reconnecting for a year and I still am very much a beginner, ‘it doesn’t matter how slow you go, as long as you don’t stop’ as CNO language teacher Ed Fields says. Luckily, there are plenty of resources for learning online!

It’s good to learn the syllabary or at least familiarize yourself with it early, as it’s a good introduction to the sounds present in the language. It’s an important part of our culture and the language too. There are also many learning resources that are only in syllabary, so you’re missing out on those if you don’t know it. Here are some good resources for learning:

Simply Cherokee Syllabary by Marc W Case [HIGHLY recommended. I got reasonably confident in syllabary in like a weekend thanks to this book. You can find fairly cheap ebooks versions. It has a story for each character that makes it so easy to remember and associate the characters with their sounds.]

Learn Cherokee Syllabary app [Apple] [Android]

Syllabary fonts and keyboard

There are lots of resources for learning the language. It’s really good to hear it as often as possible when learning vs just reading it, as I’ve messing up so much in my pronunciation from just reading it and now I’m having to break habits. You preferably want to hear first language speakers. There are two main dialects of Cherokee, usually roughly split between Eastern and Western. Dialects vary a lot within those communities as well. If you still have contact with any relatives that speak Cherokee, it’s always better to learn as much as you can from them.

Cherokee Nation language department [just explore this site, they have lots of resources!]

Cherokee Learner site [explore this site too, this is a great compilation of pretty much every Cherokee language resource, eastern and western]

Online Cherokee Class with first language speaker Ed Fields

RSU Cherokee Lessons [youtube]

Mango lessons

Other apps, including the Memrise course

That’s all I can think to say right now! I’ll probably add to this later as I learn more, find more resources, and get suggestions from others. But for now, good luck, ᏩᏙ, ᏙᏓᏓᎪᎲᎢ !

Online Cherokee dictionary [see grammar guide at the top too]

[pseudomisanthrop]

my heart will always belong to the mountains

[theartoffresco]