#show me a tiny community I would have never found any other way.

[neverendingford]

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[takerfoxx]

Personally, I feel that the reason Suletta and Miorine work so well as a couple is the same reason why they didn't work for me at first: they're just such fundamentally different people, with total opposite personalities, upbringings, values, desires, needs, strengths, weaknesses, traumas, the list goes on. If it weren't for the very strange set of circumstances that forced them to form a connection, I honestly doubt that they would even be friends, so much so that for the first few episodes, I found myself feeling weirdly disconnected from their relationship, and even found myself wondering if they even liked each other.

I mean, take a look at Suletta. She's a country girl from Mercury's mining colonies who never had any friends of her own growing up. She's a clone created in part to replace her older sister, in part to usher in her mother's plan to free her sister, and in part to be a weapon of revenge, leading to an extremely bizarre relationship with her mother that is equal parts affectionate and neglectful. She loves being around people, but is so socially anxious that any sort of interactions sends her into a stuttering fit. She's terrified of confrontation, and yet is larger and stronger than most, and put her behind the controls of a mech, and she will turn you into mincemeat. She's a total klutz when it comes to dealing with other people, and yet stays cool in a crisis and isn't phased by dead bodies. She trusts with her whole heart, measures her relationships by the value she gives to other people, blames herself whenever others let her down, can and will take a life without flinching to protect those close to her, and is delighted by something so simple as having others laugh at a joke that she made.

Now, take Miorine. A rich girl from an extremely powerful family, she lost her mother, quite possibly the only person to ever show her genuine kindness when she was a child, was "raised" by her contemptuous and neglectful excuse for a father, and grew to resent everyone and everything around her. She hates being around people, but has the confidence and social knowledge to play the game. She's tiny and physically weak, but also angry and assertive. She openly loathes her father and will insult him to his face, but also desperately craves his approval. She's been used as a commodity her entire life by people who see her as a stepping stone into power, and is bound and determined to make everyone who tries damned to a living hell. She was raised in luxury in space, but dreams of running away to what is essentially a refugee camp of a planet. She wants so badly to be allowed to stand on her own two feet and be respected for her own accomplishments, but has no real idea how to do it. She views relationships as transactions, has exactly zero patience for other people's nonsense, can and will sacrifice her own happiness for the sake of the select few that she cares about, will run headlong into the most harrowing of political battles, but also fall apart completely when confronted with the reality of death.

And, like I said, for whatever reason I just didn't feel the sparks between them at first. Their whole relationship just felt like a mutually beneficial arrangement, like it was said to be.

But then we got to that magical episode, where they had that amazingly written misunderstanding in the greenhouse, followed by that incredible argument on the space station, and I realized that this was the plan all along, and Suletta and Miorine are actually perfect as a couple...once they've managed to bridge the gap between their extremely different life experiences and massive communication issues.

See, what's so great about them is that while they are extremely different, those difference are also perfectly compatible. One's strength is the other's weakness, and together they make each other better. In a way, they're less opposites and more of two halves of one complete whole. It was Miorine's confidence that allowed Suletta to start standing up for herself, to learn confidence and make real friends, to figure out what love is. And it was Suletta's bravery that inspired Miorine to find a way to make something of her own, to seek out ways to use their families' legacies to help people instead of hurt them, to bridge gaps long carved out by blood. And in the end, they were two desperately lonely girls who just wanted someone to truly, honestly, and unconditionally love them, and they found it in each other.

Granted, it was rough going for a bit. Like I said, they had such different ways of seeing the world, they didn't communicate in the same way, they didn't see relationships in the same way, and they ended up hurting each other just trying to do what they thought was best. But they also forgave one another. They strove to better understand one another. And they came to realize just how much they needed each other. And though it took even greater loss and pain in order to achieve it, they finally found their happy ending. They found each other.

[berryhobii]

Hiiiii i just absolutely love your work and your representation for us black fans/readers thank u sm!!! im also extremely obsessed with Late for Work couple but this could go for any of the couples. im not sure if youre still taking requests (if not im so sorry not trying to be pushy kdjsks) but i wanted to know how would you think reader x Jungkook handle being an interracial couple in korea?! esp w her being a black woman? like reader feels a moment of insecurity or something and JK feels angry that someone made her feel that way and just loves her and makes her feel better? pure fluff or smut, ik you'd capture it perfectly 🥺💞 love you keep up the amazing work and take it easy!!!! xoxoxoxxxxx 💜💜💜

Hi! Thanks so much for your request! It really inspired me because I definitely understand being in an interracial relationship and the prejudice and problems we as black people face when he decide to date outside of our race. To my black people, WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. We have always been beautiful. People who hate on us fear our beauty because they know they could never replicate us or do what we do. Again, thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy! I made it a angsty but with fluff and just a tiny little piece of smut at the end. I also set this with the LFW Couple during their engagement phase🩵🩵🩵

~

Being a black woman, you’ve faced a lot of hate and turmoil. Some from your own community, some from others and even some self deprecation from yourself.

Regardless, you had amazing parents and friends who always assured you that your skin was beautiful and that you were beautiful. You were a black woman—the blueprint, the most elegant and graceful, the most envied.

You should be proud and you were.

Despite having so much overflowing confidence, there were moments where you could feel that little monster called insecurity crawling up your spine.

The most recent moment you could remember was a few months after you got engaged to your now wonderful husband, Jungkook.

He had taken charge of a lot of the wedding planning, saying he had a lot of good ideas and since he spent a lot of time at home anyway, he’d do most of the searching and calling. Of course, you’d come home and give some of your ideas as well.

“It’s your day, baby. I want you to have everything you want.”

Your heart and tummy soared with butterflies at hearing that. He really treated you like a princess. It was both of your wedding but Jungkook wanted you to have the wedding of your dreams. He didn’t care if you wanted him to wear pajamas or dye his hair orange, he’d do it if it meant you’d be happy.

With wedding preparations came things like makeup consultations and hair trials. As a black woman in Korea, there wasn’t a lot of options for makeup that fit your skin or people who understood your natural hair so you knew you’d probably be relying on yourself a lot for the time being. Good thing you knew how to do your own makeup and hair but doing it yourself kind of took away the magic and experience of wedding planning.

Thankfully, with some hard searching, you found a salon with a black employee. You could have cried tears of joy, seeing as her skin complexion was close to yours and that she had experience with wedding makeup.

Her name was Jazz and she was actually born in South Korea. The salon she worked at was owned by a close friend of her parents and she’s been working there for a few years.

“So, tell me about your fiancé. Is he handsome?” She asked you in English as she detangled your hair. Your Korean was pretty good but you sometimes preferred English.

You smiled just thinking about him, pulling up a photo of him on your phone. It was a selfie you two took after getting engaged—your left hand raised to show off your ring and him cheesing hard at the camera.

Jazz made an ‘oooo’ sound, looking a little closer at him. “He is very handsome. How’d you bag someone like that?”

With candy crush, you thought.

“Yeah. He’s amazing. He’s so kind and sweet too. I can’t imagine life without him.” You chattered dreamily. Your life had barely started with Jungkook but you wanted to live the rest of it with him. You wanted to laugh with him, to scold him for staying up too late, to argue with him and then make up later, to experience every joyous moment with him.

You only wanted him. For the rest of your life.

Jungkook came to pick you up after your appointment, waltzing into the shop like he owned it. You bit your lip at the sight of him—he’s being growing his hair out, claiming he wanted to see how it would look before the wedding. He asked how you’d like it and you insisted you’d love his hair any kind of way but you were secretly wishing he’d grow it out and wear a ponytail. Fingers crossed!

When you started spending more time together, you noticed how many hours he spent in the gym. You’d FaceTime him sometimes and he’d often be boxing or lifting weights, sweat dripping down his neck and muscles bulging. And yes, the first time you two had sex was after one of those calls. You had given yourself a 90 day time restraint, just to make sure he was pursuing you for more than just sex. 89 days was pretty close though so you considered it a win!

He scrunched his nose in a cute smile when he saw you, long legs carrying him over to where you were getting some final touchups by Jazz. She noticed him approaching, jaw dropping at your fiancé.

She leaned down to whisper scream in your ear, “girl he is fine as hell!”

You chuckled. “I know.” Standing to your feet, you greeted your sexy fiancé. “Hi baby.” You greeted in Korean.

Once he was close enough, he pulled you into a hug, inhaling the scent of your clean hair and all the products Jazz used. He pulled away to get a good look at you.

“You look beautiful baby.” He complimented and you smiled even wider, feeling all giddy under the praise. “Do you think this is the hairstyle you want for the wedding?”

“I like it but I don’t know. I’m gonna come back.”

“Please do!” Jazz chimed from behind you, making both of you laugh.

“Jungkook, this is Jazz.” You introduced. He smiled politely at her, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasures mine. I have so many ideas for the wedding and I just know your fiancé will look amazing in anything.” She gushed.

You felt Jungkook’s hand squeeze at your waist, looking down at you with soft eyes that made your heart flutter.

“I know she will too.”

You wanted to plant a smooch right on those lips, squeeze him tightly and never let him go.

Jazz’s grin was wider than the damn Joker. Ah, she loved love.

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly as he remembered something, turning to Jazz, he inquired, “hey, do you guys dye hair here? I’m thinking of going purple.” He followed an excited Jazz over to the wall where they kept hair dye samples.

You smiled endearingly at both of them. They both gave off golden retriever energy. You hoped they’d be friends.

While they did that, you went back to the waiting area. You had seen a wedding magazine that you wanted to show Jungkook.

There were 2 older Korean lady’s sitting there, chatting to each other and reading magazines as well. They looked up when you entered, giving you looks that you’ve grown used to living here. It wasn’t really disgust or anything, it was more like a “what are you going here” kind of look.

You smiled at them, bowing your head a little in respect before shifting through the magazines for the one you were looking for. You found it, flipping through the pages to search for the centerpieces you saw.

“She’s marrying him? How distasteful.” You heard one of them say. You paused for a second. Were they talking about you? No, right? They were already having a conversation before you walked up. They were probably talking about someone else.

Just mind your business, you thought.

“It’s bad enough one of them is working here. I don’t want her touching my hair but Sunhee insists she knows what she’s doing. I don’t believe it. They can barely take care of their own hair. Just look at it.”

There was no way you could doubt that. They were definitely talking about Jazz. She had hair that appeared shorter, compliments of shrinkage. She showed you a photo of her hair straight and it was very close to her butt. You knew of the negative implications behind natural hair, especially when it came to shrinkage and the stereotypes surrounding it. You wished people understood more about black hair but ignorance had no bounds.

“I’d never let my son marry one of her kind. Look at her. She looks dirty. Just imagine their children. Ugh.”

Dirty? You weren’t dirty. And what was one of your kind? They were talking about you like you were less than human. You’ve experienced a lot over the years living here in South Korea—fetishization, discrimination, even people randomly touching you but you’ve never had anyone be that bold to speak about you right in front of you. They must have heard you speaking English with Jazz and assumed you didn’t understand them. Or they could very much well know you spoke Korean and just didn’t care.

You didn’t even realize Jungkook approaching you, startling a little at his hand on your back.

“You alright, baby?”

You managed a convincing smile. You didn’t want to cause a scene or anything. Jungkook was very overprotective of you. He didn’t tolerate disrespect and your comfort and safety was his number one priority. He was quick to remove you from any situations that he thought you’d be unsafe in and he was even quicker in shutting someone down who tried to embarrass or disrespect you.

You trusted him with your whole heart so why was it so hard to tell him? You took one look in those doe like eyes and you never wanted to see them harden in anger or get misty with tears.

So you smiled and reassured him. “I’m fine. I wanted to show you these centerpieces. Aren’t they nice?”

“They’re wonderful. I really like that arrangement. Let me take a picture of it.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo. “Ready to go? Taehyung and Namjoon invited us out to dinner.”

“Yup. All ready. Let me just say bye to Jazz.”

He nodded and let you go. Your smile dropped when you turned around, speed walking over to Jazz who was cleaning her station.

She noticed you walking up. “Oh, your fiancé already paid for you. He also made an appointment to dye his hair purple. Can you believe it? I personally think red would suit him better but-“

You cut her off by pulling her into a tight hug. You know you just met her so this was probably strange but you just needed her to know something.

She did think this was the tiniest bit weird but she still reciprocated your hug. You were a really nice person and she loved knowing of another black woman living in the same area.

“You okay?” She asked.

You pulled away and smiled at her. “I’m wonderful. And you’re beautiful.”

Her expression softened. “Thank you. So are you.”

“Here, take my number. I’d love it if you could come to my wedding.”

~

The entire car ride home, you were quiet. You had turned on the music to avoid any conversation. You knew if Jungkook started questioning you about what happened at the salon, you’d break and tell him about those women. You also knew it was stupid of you to hold it in but you just couldn’t tell him. You’d just forget and move on.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

When you got home, Jungkook went to take a phone call and you went to the bedroom to stare at yourself in the mirror.

You loved your hair. You loved yourself. You loved your skin. Those women were just ignorant. You shouldn’t let them get to you.

But you couldn’t stop thinking of what they said about you and Jungkook.

“I’d never let my son marry one of her kind.”

Did Jungkook’s parents think that of you? They were very kind to you and never made you feel not welcomed. You spoke to his mother all the time about the wedding. She’s even taught you how to cook Jungkook’s favorite meals. His father was a bit more stern but still a very kind man.

And what about Jungkook? Did he have an issue with you being black? You don’t think he would have dated or proposed to you if he didn’t, right? You never assumed he had an issue with your race just like you didn’t have a problem with his. Of course, you acknowledged he was Korean and you did your best to respect him and his culture. He was always so open, assuring that you could ask him anything and you did the same.

He admitted you were the first non Korean woman he’s ever dated and he didn’t want to do anything to offend you. Like he assured you, you told him that you weren’t much different from others. You still expected him to treat you well in this relationship and vice versa. Your differences in your races and culture didn’t really change very much.

So moments like these really made you wonder if you were too different.

“Baby, we have a few hours before dinner. Did you want to play It Takes Two with me?” Jungkook asked as he entered the bedroom. He noticed how you were staring at yourself but not in the normal admiring way you often did.

This time, your face looked somber. Was something bothering you?

“Baby? Are you okay?”

You looked at him through the mirror.

You couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

Sighing, you turned to face him. He had moved closer to you so now he was just inches away.

For some reason, you couldn’t lift your eyes to meet his. Shame burned at you.

Jungkook pouted his lip and tilted his head, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek and raise your head. Your eyes met and suddenly that dam broke.

He could see how your eyes began to tear up and he panicked. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He racked his brain for anything he could have done to upset you but nothing was really coming to mind. Was this one of those times you wanted him to pick up on hints? He could be a little dense sometimes which you thought was cute. You were good at communicating which helped both of you avoid any unnecessary problems.

So what was wrong?

“Jungkook…..do you….have a problem with me being black?”

Wow. Not what he was expecting. Then again, he didn’t really know what to expect. You hardly cried so he hasn’t gotten very good at determining your types of crying.

He was baffled by your question. “What? What are you talking about?”

You sighed again. “Well, I overheard these women talking at the salon. They were talking about me and Jazz. They called me dirty and said that they’d never let their sons marry one of my kind….” You inhaled a shaky breath, looking away from his eyes. If you looked any longer, the tears would fall.

Jungkook felt two emotions well up in him. The first was pure rage because how dare someone speak about you like that? He wished he had heard it because he would have given those women a piece of his mind. Respecting your elders was an important part of his culture but he didn’t give a damn about that when someone was disrespecting you.

The second emotion was sympathy because he hated seeing you doubt yourself. You were such a wonderful person, surefooted and with an unflappable spirit. You let comments roll off your back like water, only looking ahead and never letting people taint your energy. He knew you used to struggle sometimes with self love, especially trudging through the world as a black woman but he never saw it get to you and he admired that about you.

So to see you ready to cry over this made his heart ache for you.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You blinked your tears away, slowly shifting your gaze to stare back at him. A gentle smile was on his face, one you only ever saw during moments like this—those moments where he could fully open his heart up to you.

“Do you really think I would have even pursued you if I had a problem with that?”

You shrugged your shoulder. “I don’t know….” You mumbled, averting your gaze again but he moved his head a little to make you look at him again.

“I think you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever laid eyes on. When I first saw you, all I could think was how could such a gorgeous person exist? Naturally, I noticed your skin but only because it was glowing. You were brighter than anyone in that restaurant.”

You choked out a watery laugh. You remember that day. It was one of those days where you felt particularly hot. You weren’t expecting to meet someone but there was Jungkook, a little awkward but so charming. He caught your attention immediately. No one knew but receiving those flowers from him solidified your attraction to him and a part of you knew you’d be together in the long haul.

“I don’t care about you being black.” Then he realized what he said and backtracked a little. “Well, of course I care but you know, I don’t and….wait let me start over.” He stumbled, making you laugh again. That boyish awkwardness always managed to rear its head but it only made you fall for him even harder.

“I get what you mean.”

He sheepishly grinned before continuing, “I care about it because I care about you but I also don’t care because that’s not all you are. You’re sensible and bright and clever and so self assured. Not to mention, your ass is absolutely amazing and I want it tattooed on my forehead.”

You snorted a laugh, playfully smacking him on the chest. He was so silly but he knew if it was possible, he’d do it. He was that obsessed with you and everything about you.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, sparkling eyes blinking up at him.

“And your laugh is goofy and you’re bad at reading directions for furniture and you put your freezing cold feet on me at night which drives me insane.” He huffed.

“Socks are uncomfortable.” You defended.

“But…” He leaned down to brush his lips over yours. “I love all of that about you. I’ve never once doubted that. I love you, all of you.”

The tears finally fell but they weren’t because of your insecurity, not anymore. They were because you adored this man in front of you and you felt so unbelievably lucky to have him in your life.

“I love you too.”

Your lips met in a kiss that reminded you that he was what you needed. He was the only person you wanted.

And as you made love that night, sweet whispers of his love warming your skin, all of those previous anxieties had completely dispersed from your mind. His cock stretched you open, your arms holding him tightly and his hands grounding you to this reality. His lips blazed hot kisses across any skin he could reach, hips pushing slow and deep inside of you and bringing you closer to euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, gripping your thighs that were wrapped around his waist and keeping him close.

“Jungkook….” You breathily uttered his name, not knowing what else to say but he didn’t need you to. He could feel all of your emotion through his name and he wanted to hear more of it.

“I got you, baby. Always.”

That little monster was locked back in its cage for now. You couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t break free again but you knew Jungkook would be there to help you through everything.

Everytime.

[a-s-levynn]

I'm terrified to post this. So watch me sprinting away into the distance after dropping this.

Open love letter to -in extension to the wider ST community on tumblr, but especially- to the fellowship of Sleep because without you, life would be much more lonely

My Friends,

It was today when it finally dawned on me that you gave me the most undescribably precious gift. Many of you probably going to relate to this to some degree because i am not unique in any sense but i had to get this out. And by just the sheer lenght probably not many of you will read it. But i still need to put this out there, even if i'm being obnoxious and probably sound overdramatic and maybe even cringy.

I struggle with a lot of things. Anxiety, self doubt, depression, paranoia, self destructive tendencies, self isolation and the list goes on to even darker places. All in all i have a suboptimal mental state to put it lightly. I feel inadequate in many ways. Especially with connecting to people.

To this day, i struggle every day, seeing my friends, you, talk on a daily basis, have inside jokes and wonderful conversations and whatnot and either i like it or not, thoughts intrude: "am i doing enough? Am i a good enough of a friend? Do i really have a place among these wonderful bright souls? Am i intruding? Am i inserting myself into spaces i do not have any right to be? Am i forcing myself into your circles?"

For the longest time, on most days the conclusion was no. I do not belong. You were just being nice to the pathetic little creature in the corner because by nature you are simply kind. But as the weeks went by i learned that you are also awkward people with your own stuggles and hardships which are far harder and more painful than mine. That you are choosing to be kind every day, in spite of what life threw at you. Because you know.

I started to see you also crave a particular type of companionship and you reach out with the same trembling hands, hoping that someone sees it and grabs it. That someone finally says: you are not alone. I am here. For you. With you.

And you did. You've seen a bunch of hands fumbling in the dark, desperate to hold onto something and went: yeah.. i think i'll grab all of them. Because we are coming from the same darkness. And if i can help pull you into the light than you might have the strenght to do the same for me, so we can all sit in the warmth of the fire. The fire we built together. A fire that is growing ever brighter and allowes us to see even more hands on the edges to be pulled and invited into the circle.

So we have. For a while sitting almost silently, showing the things we found along the way. Tentatively feeling out the boundries. Than we broke the silence. You even started to call me your friend at some point. I already considered you mine because i'm painfully lonely and just the gesture, that you included me among the hands you grabbed was enough for me to see you mine. But all in all, for some unknowable reason, we became friends.

The weeks turned into months and i felt a bit more comfortable to approach you on my own clumsy and awkward ways. Many of you know by now that Tiny Token was born because i was too afraid to send a happy birthday ask to someone. I still apologize regularly just for adding thoughts to posts even if i only do it in tags. I am afraid. Of so many thing.

We still don't talk daily. Yet we still call each other friend. We have actual plans now. I still stuggle with the though of not being enough. There are still days when i feel you just feeling pity towards me.

But lately there is an other thought there. Which makes me feel bad for thinking that way. A thought that's never been there before. "If i was truly bothersome or annoying or any way too unpleasent, you could simply walk away. This is the internet after all. You could just block me. You have the option to walk away but you are time and time again choosing not to. No matter how many days pass by with us not talking, you are there. I can count on you. I'm still hesitant to reach out and dump my superficial adversities on you. But i also see you keeping the door ajar, leaving the option there to be approached if anyone needs it. So it would be not just a disservice but an outright insult to you if i'd think you are just acting out of pity. But if you like me than.. there has to be something about me to actually to be worth knowing?"

And that is doing something that ten years worth of failed therapy could not. You made me question my self doubt. It is still there and will be for the rest of my life. But now there is a steady counter balance i never had this solidly in my life ever before.

I'm still afraid to ask even if anyone would be up for a talk, let alone a call because i have little to offer in conversations. I don't talk much by default and that is not a good base for conversations. I'm still terrified of overstaying my welcome. But i also know now that you probably wouldn't mind from time to time. Because you understand. Maybe one day i will get there. I don't know when but there is a hope i never truly had before.

This is something i will never be able to repay you. Thank you for understanding that we all have different levels of anxiety and fear and not holding it against one and other. I'm writing this to you with immens love and eternal gratitude i cannot truly express in any way that does it justice: Thank you for showing me hope. Thank you for being the way you are.

You gave me the biggest gift there is to give.

You gave me your friendship.

I love you.

Yours in friendship,

Levynn

[chronicallycouchbound]

Homelessness as Trauma: Transitioning Into Housing

Having housing after experiencing homelessness for over half of my life wasn’t healing for me (and most others too).

Homelessness is inherently traumatic in and of itself. Just the act of not having housing is traumatic. But before someone becomes homeless ever, we know that certain marginalized communities are more likely to become homeless, and that those marginalized communities are experiencing communal trauma AND the individual person is experiencing trauma. Additionally, whatever led to you becoming homeless was traumatic. And then you’re at significantly increased exposure to other traumas while unhoused (friends dying, police violence, systemic barriers, communal traumas, developing medical conditions, medical discrimination, etc).

Long-term homelessness is exponentially traumatizing.

When I lived in a youth homeless shelter for nearly 4 years, prior to, and after that I had been unhoused or in extremely unstable housing. Watching as other youth would become unhoused and then quickly gain housing, some in under a week, most in under a few months, I felt absolutely dispirited. As time went on, I only acquired more marginalization and thus faced more barriers. I felt like I would never have stable housing. It often still feels this way.

The staff at the shelter where I lived consistently said “We are not a crisis stabilization unit” in response to youth showing signs of trauma and crisis. Almost no concrete supportive services exist for people transitioning out of long-term homelessness. I stopped qualifying for most services after I stopped being legally homeless, even though my housing was even more unstable than the shelter was most of the time.

For a frame of reference, because I was never officially in foster care as a minor (even though I was homeless and on my own documented as a minor, had various legal guardians other than my parents, as well as dozens of child services calls and regular check-ins with caseworkers because of documented physical abuse and neglect all throughout my childhood, but I digress) I don't qualify for the services that foster youth get granted until they're 30, even if they only spent 1 night in foster care. Some of those services include free college, housing vouchers to pay for housing in full, guaranteed Medicaid coverage, additional food stamps, and more. I have several friends who have used these programs and are thriving! I'm glad they exist for people in need-- they should also be expanded to include homeless youth.

So when I moved into my first apartment, on my own, at age 19, I was genuinely more terrified than at any time while I had ever been homeless. I slept with my backpack as a pillow and my jacket as a blanket, despite having pillows and blankets to use. It was like a security blanket for me. I slept with my knife on my waistband like I always did, and I reluctantly put my boots within arm's reach instead of wearing them.

I didn't put anything into cabinets or closets or drawers for a very long time. I just kept living out of my backpack. I was afraid of leaving anything in my apartment-- usually leaving any possessions anywhere meant saying goodbye to them. I was afraid of being alone in my tiny studio apartment so I would have friends over every night.

There was times I wouldn't leave my apartment for days on end, especially when I started owning possessions that I had to leave behind and couldn't carry everything on my back anymore. I can't remember a time I owned enough possessions that I couldn't fit them all into a tote box and backpack. It was an entirely foreign experience.

People kept congratulating me and yet no one gave me any help with getting basic necessities for my apartment. Every pot and pan I own is scratched to shit and found free on the road, akin to all my mismatched dull knives and friend's hand-me-down towels. It was a pat on the back while I was still out there drowning.

People kept congratulating me and still my friends, my family, were on the streets dying. Acting like I should be proud to "overcome" while the system still hurts us all. My friends are still dying. Our whole community is grieving all the time. I feel guilty to just be alive.

That's not even touching the start of processing the trauma I experienced while unhoused. They say you don't start to process shit til you're safer and it hit like a tidal wave.

I had never felt like that before getting off the streets. And I wasn't and am still not in stable housing. I can't even imagine what stable housing would look like, let alone how tryna process that would be like. It is such a raw and vulnerable experience to come fresh out of homelessness and then be thrown into a world you've never known.

So many people think JUST housing is the answer when it simply is not. We need supportive services, we need community support, we need to be cared for and looked after. We need places to go for holidays and people to be our emergency contacts. We need financial help and support that money can't buy. We need real love, we need to be held by our community and uplifted to where we all can thrive.

[fudgelling-away]

You are my favourite sans person, so i wanna ask you, what do you think his singing voice would sound like??? I don't know if it would be similar to his speech which I imagine is like a deeper baritone sort of thing, OR, he's one of those dudes who sounds drastically different depending on what he's doing.

he's sexy either way though🤫🤫

I've been thinking about this ask for the past several days 😳

That is such a sweet thing to say!!! Thank you for telling me this, I appreciate you reaching out so much!

---------------------------

To answer your question, I think Sans would be very skilled in modulating his voice.

I imagine him being an expert in communication - that means not only having an uncanny ability to read your face like an open book, but also being able to masterfully control his own expression and the message that his voice and his body language send.

(note: this has nothing to do with controlling emotions, that's a whole another topic)

That's also why his ability to lie is straight up scary. This man could sell you the most otherwordly ideas in a believable way and you would never know.

Sans is scary. The power he wields IS scary, and I do not mean piercing bones. He's one scary little cookie and I love him so much-

Also, isn't it amazing that he never uses those talents to abuse others? We as the Players commit atrocities and treat the in-game world like our playground. There are also all these other characters who misuse their strength and influence in a destructive, careless way. And on the other side there is Sans. Intelligent, powerful, both in battle and in soft skills.

He is so- ah, you know what I mean?! He could, but he doesn't! He's got all the abilities necessary to become the scariest predator ever seen, and he chooses not to.

But I digress.

HAVING SAID ALL THAT, I think he would be a very good singer in his natural vocal range.

As I have mentioned before, he can read you very well. That means he recognizes each tiny change in your voice. In the game we can also see the way his text speech changes, many times, in different ways. It, of course, is not THAT important - we are discussing headcanons anyway ♡ But I really like that about him, too.

I don't see anything stopping him from using all that knowledge and talent to sing well (if he wanted to).

---------------------------

I'd love to share with you who is my voice for Sans, but I can't. He actually is a singer. I have never seen him linked to Sans in any way whatsoever, so I really don't want to put his name out there.

But that's such a good voice... Oh man...

It's deep, of course, but with a totally unique timbre. I have never heard any voice similar to it, and it's so... It's so pleasant to my ears! It's smooth, and ahhh I can't explain it. It has got that special something... Those undertones that feel and taste like SANS. That relaxed, though positive and attentive manner of speech. Ah. I am obsessed with it.

And I have found it by a total accident. Several months ago I was driving, minding my own business, there was radio playing in the background, and at one point they started to play an old song from the 1980s.

30 seconds in and I'm like, oh shit. No.

1 minute in and I am starting to sweat.

No.

no

no no no-

YEEEEEESSS!

[IMAGINE: A STREAM OF HAPPY EXPLETIVES]

That was an epiphany.

The feeling was euphoric.

SANS

sans sans

ASDDASDASFSSASA

I have no memory of the rest of the drive, but THAT VOICE.

I came back home. I looked up the radio station on the internet. I checked what they played an hour earlier.

And I found out who it actually was.

Immediately I went searching for some recorded interviews and yesss, there they were, perfectly available on youtube...

I spend a couple of hours every week listening to those interviews while I am working or drawing. That voice is ingrained in my brain now. That's my Sans' voice.

I am so sorry I can't show it to you.

--------------------------- Let me know what YOU think! ♡

I love to read different headcanons and ideas.

[olderthannetfic]

Been thinking about daring to try to get into vidding (but I have zero knowledge about video editing lol) and wondered if there are ship manifestos that are in fanvid-form, so to say. Am shocked that there are only six on AO3. Though I guess it may have to do with videos being taken down because of copyright stuff?

(One of them was by you by the way if I'm not mistaken, ha! And now I want to watch Veritas: The Quest. Your video got me interested.^^)

--

Haha. I was going to say!

Veritas is a fun dumb time. It makes me sad that they never released properly. (And yes, my love of baaaaaad "archaeology" canons full of magical woo and tomb raiding goes way back. Also my love of fake death and fake betrayal plots.)

AO3 is only moderately popular for fanvids, and mostly in a very specific community of people who send vids to the small-scale fancons—the sorts of people who founded OTW and who were vidding on Livejournal. (It won't be because of takedowns. The AO3 work would still be there, just with a dead embed.) That lack of popularity overall is part of why you don't see so many video manifestos, but I think it's more a terminology thing:

I think it's rare for vidders to call their vids "manifestos". I don't think of that one video as a vid that is a manifesto: I think of it as a vid I made to include in a manifesto. Instead, we tend to call them "pimp vids", but you don't tag with that because it's presumptuous. It's something you say retroactively about other people's vids or that you tell a vid beta you're aiming for. You don't get to decide if your vid successfully pimps people in any more than you get a say in whether you go viral, you know?

--

There's a weekly vidders' zoom run by DC Slash (one of the tiny slash cons), and we just had a week where we brought in vids that got us into fandoms. A lot of other people's were ancient, blurry VCR transfers because they've been at this a lot longer than I have, but I can show you some of the vids that have gotten me into fandoms:

Killa's Haven vid Soldier annoyed me so much. What is that one brief flash of a scene? Did that dude die? It's not that sad a vid though? What the hell? So I had to watch just to find out. (Yes, he died. But he got better. Because Haven.)

The fact that I know and like Killa didn't hurt, but it's not like I loved the vid itself: a lot of it was my sheer annoyance at that one shot.

Of course, then, I made my own Haven vid, Captain Kidd, that was supposed to be an angry deep dive into show lore and how the other sanctimonious, fake-moral but actually pretty useless characters were treating my blorbo. (This is a theme with me, it appears.) It was not even 1% supposed to be a pimp vid...

To date, this is by far my most successful pimp vid, luring a whole bunch of people into the show just in time for it to massively jump the shark. (Damn it.) I've never even seen the ending.

More recently, akiv's Beyond Evil vid I'm a Ruler made me fall hard for Beyond Evil. Imagine my shock when what looked like a relatively normal buddy cop series starts with one of them secretly investigating the other as a serial killer. It was so much more intense and fucked up than I realized! Yessss.

After bouncing hard off of DMBJ, it was this Youtube vid Hei Ye falling for the Thorny Flower that got me intrigued again. The tone is so obvious and the dynamic is so clear, which really helped me get interested in a franchise that's often pretty hard to follow plot-wise.

I admit I never actually watched canon, but this Mr. Queen vid by Mozzaphne made me go look up a plot summary so I could read all of the fic. Lots of youtube vidders overuse show dialogue and mix it horribly over songs, but this one was really well done and adds a lot to your understanding of the character dynamics.

I don't think my foray into Detroit: Become Human was entirely because of a single vid, but Figure 8 by Dirty Mind Gene definitely helped. I knew it was a video game with robots. Nobody fucking told me it was a Caves of Steel ripoff with a jaded cop getting his mojo back via getting to know his robot partner.

I of course then went and made one with all of the zillions of deaths in the game because I love that shit. This apparently also got at least one person into the fandom.

Another vid a different person mentioned pimping them into a fandom was Lola's Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty vid ME!

It's a fabulous vid, and it's a fantastic illustration of how the central (canon) ship is supposed to read. Sadly, my personal opinion of the show is that Tang Fan is a perpetual victim and piece of shit who puts his own shallow grasp of morality and his personal feelings over the greater good, often getting characters killed unnecessarily. (I hear this is largely due to some questionable adaptation choices where they swapped who's the hothead and who's the one cleaning up messes.)

I've noticed that fluffy bunnies who watch the show tend to think Tang Fan is ~nice~ because he spouts modern morality instead of a selfish little bitch because he refuses to face the reality of the setting he's in and find the best real world solution instead of holding out for an ideal he'll never attain and thus making everything ten times worse. It reminds me forcibly of tumblr wank where people see themselves as these great moral leaders but lack all grasp of nuance. Their sensitivity extends only to their own feelings.

Yes, Sleuth left me with a lot of rage...

How dare the writing pretend like Tang Fan is the moral arbiter of anything, when my own personal fave, whom half the cast thinks is a villain, is constantly cleaning up after him, trying to keep the body count low, trying to maintain order as everybody else flies out of control...

And then the show made it all better by tormenting Tang Fan in the iddiest way possible. Ohohoho. It's not just that he gets his face rubbed in his own inadequacy and inability to save people. It's the ridiculously over-the-top flashback to "You're my only friend" right in the middle of the death scene. Way to twist the knife!

I, of course, have made my own vid for this fandom, Tiny, Pretty & Angry, and it is absolutely a manifesto, just not a ship one. It's a manifesto about how Wang Zhi is not only the most competent, but also the actual moral center of everything and fuck all of y'all if you don't agree.

In fact, there's probably another reason we don't call them manifestos:

In the oldschool Media Fandom vidding traditions, most vids are video essays and manifestos, really. That's a lot of the point of the aesthetic: making an argument. Partly due to technological limitations and partly due to vidding being innovated by slashers who were constantly challenged about their ships, the pretty visual spectacle styles so common in AMVs and currently on Youtube were largely absent. Meta argument was everything. That's the default.

Here's another one of mine that's pretty explicitly a fuck you to how most people in Untamed fandom see Wen Ning.

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! This is Izzy and Malice and we’ll be your hosts today. 

Here with us today is the one and only @whumpsday!

Let’s start with a fact or two about yourself!

My name is Mill and I’m 26! Aside from the whump hobbies of writing and roleplaying, I also play TTRPGs. (My favorites are everything in the Awaken Realms catalogue: Etherfields and Tainted Grail, and I’ll start ISS Vanguard after I finish the Etherfields expansions. Gonna start Vampire the Masquerade soon too.) I haven’t played any roleplay-based TTRPGs like D&D yet, but I’d love to someday. My favorite color is red and my favorite animal is the cat.

That’s sweet as! What does whump mean to you? 

Creative content involving characters’ pain would probably be the broadest definition that still includes everything. I consider it a subgenre of horror, with the added bonus of often showing the gritty recovery from the trauma.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I originally found whump fiction on AO3 while browsing G/t content (Giant/tiny, content for characters with size differences, such as one being 4 inches tall. It’s the other niche art/writing community I’m in.) That led me to tumblr, and here I am! I’d always enjoyed whump-type content as far as I can remember. I lurked for a couple of years before finally making an account and joining because I was eager to share the stories of my daydream characters.

Do you think the way you view whump has changed since joining the community here? 

It hasn’t changed much! Always been an OC writer and still am. But I’ve only been here for a year and a half.

Now the important questions: what is your favourite whump trope?

My favorite whump trope is probably an immortal whumpee. With a human, you’re bound by the constraints of a human body. People die if you torture them too much. But if your whumpee is immortal, that goes away and the possibilities are limitless. Bonus if they’re a generally-despised species like a vampire or demon.

Immortal whumpee are so good! Endless possibilities equals endless whump! Would you like to share some of your writing with us?

My main series, Kane & Jim, is undoubtedly my favorite. I never thought I could be a writer, and I’m proud of myself for writing 50 chapters of that and counting. Within that, my favorite piece is either Hunger (#15) or Papercut (#17). Link: https://whumpsday.tumblr.com/post/709301997070909440/kane-jim-masterlist-writing-order-click 

Love the authors notes on Papercut #17! What's your writing style like?

I generally write in the late night (anytime from 11pm to 4am) in big blocks. I do not eat or listen to music, and have a water bottle nearby. I used to write very regularly but have since fallen off, and have just recently gotten back on track.

Is there an easy thing for you to write, something the words usually flow for? Is there something you struggle with writing? 

I always find it easier to write single-scene chapters with no cuts. I find it more difficult to write things spanning long lengths of time with time skips abound.

And are you working on anything at the moment? 

I am currently working on my pieces for the Whumpmas in July event (@whumpmasinjuly), which will be half Kane & Jim works and half one-shot short stories.

I’m so excited for Whumpmas in July, it’s such a cool event! Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

I’m not too good at jokes, so instead have my favorite cat video of all time for a smile: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rELs4jl64k 

Aww kittens! That’s definitely a smile from me! Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

You don’t have to write everything in order. If something in a piece is giving you trouble, slap a “COME BACK HERE” label on it and move on to something the inspiration is flowing for.

Finally is there anyone you’d like to mention?

Sorry this is a lot… I have too much love in my heart <3

@anomalys-taxonomy, @blackberry-bloody, @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night, @emmettnet, @lost-in-labradorite-halls, @lumpofwhump, @not-a-space-alien, @obsessedwithegos, @oddsconvert, @pardonmekreature, @quietly-by-myself, @t0rture-me, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whump-queen, @whumperstorm, @whumpshaped, @whumpwillow, @wolfeyedwitch, @whumpy-writings, @whumpzone

Any last words?

i forced myself to use proper capitalization for this interview but i’m a lowercase guy at heart

Thank you so much for joining us today! It was great to have you on the show!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Optimism dries up in Amazon as Lula drifts from climate priorities

Brazil’s president inspired hope a year ago but approval of a new highway shows he remains a concrete-and-oil state builder

What a difference a year makes in the Brazilian Amazon. At the start of 2023, I wrote about the green shoots of the rainy season and feelings of hope inspired by the new president, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, who promised to strengthen Indigenous rights and aim for zero deforestation. Twelve months on, both the vegetation and political optimism are drying up.

The most severe drought in living memory has finally been broken, but the rains are late and weak compared with previous years. The Xingu River is far lower than normal for January. The pulse of forest growth is also fainter – the new vegetation does not push out as far into the road as it did last January. The neighbouring cattle pasture is faring even worse. The forage grasses, known as capim, were so severely burned that they have not grown back, leaving the hillsides brown and the cows emaciated. Several of the poor, skeletal beasts have escaped their fields and wandered towards our community in search of food. Local people say more than a dozen cows have died of starvation at this one ranch, and countless others elsewhere.

Less obvious, but in many ways more worrying, is the dearth of leafcutter ants. These large-mandibled insects are usually everywhere, slicing and carrying vegetation in columns to create fungal gardens in their nests, which spread out over dozens of metres in Gaudi-esque towers and mounds. Entomologists say these ants have the second most-complex societies on Earth, after humans, and they are the dominant herbivores in the South American tropics, trimming about a sixth of all the leaves produced in the forest. This stimulates new plant growth and enriches the soil. Not for nothing have these ants been described as ecosystem engineers.

Each day, I pass three big nests of leafcutters on my daily walk with the dogs. Just over a year ago, I ventured too close during the annual revoada, when the winged females set out on their nuptial flights followed by clouds of males. It is a sensitive time for the insects and the soldier ants were in fiercely protective mode. I was driven away with my foot bloodied and me howling with pain. Despite this, I have never ceased to admire these tiny, powerful creatures so I was dismayed to discover that all four nests are apparently lifeless. The mounds appear deflated, there is no newly excavated soil at the entrances, and not a single leafcutter ant to be seen. This is bizarre as a healthy colony can have 3.5 million members and they never previously stopped working. Entomologists tell me they may have relocated or been wiped out by the prolonged dry season. It is an alarming reminder that the weakening of forest resilience takes many forms and the impact of the drought remains incalculable.

Human-caused global heating and deforestation are parching the forest – and not just over the last year. Scientists have found the Amazonian dry season is getting hotter, drier and longer. Fifty years ago, it lasted four months. Now, it is five. This is causing a die-back of trees and other species that are being pushed beyond their survival thresholds. An ecosystem-wide collapse that would turn the Amazon into a savanna draws ever closer.

Lula knows this. In a speech at Cop28 in Dubai last November he told the world he was shocked that the region’s rivers, which are the greatest freshwater source in the world, are at their lowest level for more than 120 years. He said this was a global climate problem and called on other countries to make a greater effort. “Even if we do not cut down any more trees, the Amazon could reach its point of no return if other countries do not do their part.”

But his own government’s efforts to protect the forest and its people have been mixed. A first-year report card for Lula would show progress compared with the low benchmark set by the previous far-right administration of Jair Bolsonaro, but also failed promises, political weakness and worrying signs of regression.

Continue reading.

[officialleehadan]

Healing Orchids

Broken Earth

+++

Tisha hadn’t forgotten her discussion with Tina.

Her twin made a bunch of good points about Nick, specifically about the chance that Nick was a Power. That was dangerous to get involved with in any way, but they were already friends with Nick, and anyway there didn’t seem to be a new Power, hero or Villain, in town. If he was a Power, he seemed to be retired, which was supported by his own statements on the matter.

For a while, she was too busy to come at the issue, but she didn’t stop thinking about it as they found a new, larger location and relocated the whole boutique. It was a lot of hard work, and they lost a few clients in the move but gained many more. Nick was right there with them, filling the shelves with orchids, and soon cut flower arrangements as well. He didn’t have anything resembling traditional, but that worked for their brand.

Finally though, Tisha had three more people in the kitchen, Tina had four more people in he front of house, and she finally had a minute to figure out how she felt about Nick.

It came down to a conversation.

It wasn’t that hard to get Nick alone. He had been working with her through the whole move, incorporating new flavors into the chocolates and even venturing into other types of candy that could best show off his incredible produce. She never pushed for him to give her new flavors, but he seemed delighted to show off, and she was delighted to let him.

She just had to wait until he brought her another delivery, this time of jasmine flowers, pansies, and violets. All were edible, and she planned to candy them for tiny, elegant edible arrangements on cupcakes. The baking was new, but they had the facilities now, and everyone loved gourmet cupcakes. Combined with Nick’s flowers and fruits, they dominated the market in a matter of days.

“Hey I’ve got a question for you,” she said as she unloaded the flowers carefully into the fridge that was specifically for the edible flowers, compared to the ones for the not-edible bouquets. Nick raised a brow but didn’t stop handing her trays of perfect blooms. “And I don’t want to spook you, so if you don’t want to talk about it, tell me and I’ll drop it.”

“Ominous,” Nick said, and leaned against the counter, but he didn’t try to duck out the back as he might have when he first started working with her. “Should I be running?”

“Nah. It’s not gonna change anything no matter what you answer, I’m just curious.”

“Less ominous. Go ahead.”

“Are you a Power?”

By Nick’s sudden, shocked silence, the answer to that one was a resounding yes, but Tisha wondered what he would say.

“Why do you ask?” he said finally, and turned his attention to the live orchids he brought for their clients. There was a three month waiting list for the rare orchids he specialized in, and he only brought a few each week. Part of it was demand, he wanted them to stay valuable, but part of it was just that he couldn’t supply that many each week. “That’s a dangerous question.”

“I’ll drop it if you want me to,” Tisha assured him, and hip-checked him out of her way as she always did, which seemed to reassure him that she was serious. “I’m not like Tina. I won’t push.”

He thought about that for a while, and then, to her astonishment, he wrapped his fingers around one of the drooping orchids. She had seen him coax his flowers upright a dozen times before, but this time he let her see the soft green glow that flowed off his fingertips into the flower. It perked up into fresh, bright health, and he set it aside to work on the next orchid.

“How did you figure it out?’ he said, rather than give her the easy answer that she could see for herself. He kept working on the flowers, this time with the soft glow of his Power on his hands. “I thought I was careful>”

“You are,” Tisha promised him hurriedly. She didn’t want him to bolt on her, and feared that he still might. “it was a lot of little things, but we know the community. You got your garden in too fast. Even if you were rich, money doesn’t make flowers grow like that. Hell, Sugar. You grow your own tea. I don’t think tea even grows around here.”

“It doesn’t,” Nick said, bemused now, and smiling a little. “I should have known it was the food that would give me away. Does Tina know?”

“She figured you out through the orchids. They’re too prissy to perk up like they do for you,” Tisha explained and nodded to the plant under his hands, which even now was putting out new flower stalks as he guided it upwards. “She won’t tell anyone except maybe Mickey, but he won’t care. We take care of our own.”

“And that includes me now?” Nick seemed even more baffled by that. “What if I’m a villain?”

“Eh, if you’re a villain, you’re a retired one,” Tisha told him and poked him in the side when he started to frown. “Stop that. You’re not a villain.”

“You seem very sure of that.”

“Sugar, you’re too sweet to be a bad guy,” she said confidently, and thought back to the call she overheard months ago. “Something bad happened, huh? Something bad enough to make you leave. You came here for something different. I’m not gonna wreck that.”

“I’m not a villain,” he confirmed and let himself smile again when Tisha put away the last of the flowers. “Never was. You’re not wrong. Something… the worst happened. People died. I couldn’t stay.”

She hoped it wasn’t that bad, but he liked to help people too much for it to be anything less. Not after the call she heard, and the man who came looking for him later. His anger. His sadness. The mention of his brother, who left a widow and two children behind. It was no surprise that he left, and hid himself away in the south, and in his flowers.

“I’m not gonna send you back,” Tisha said, and washed her hands so she could pull him into a tight hug. He was stiff for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a small squeeze. “You stay here, growing flowers and helping us make candy. Sounds like you earned that retirement a few times over.”

“You don’t think I owe it to the world to keep helping?”

Heroes. Heroes and their trauma. It was a nasty unspoken truth about most Powers. Tisha didn’t know any personally, but she heard the stories of the heroes who broke and went crazy, or just burned when something came along. Something they maybe could have escaped, and chose not to.

He didn’t need to tell her how close he was to that breaking point. She could see it in his eyes.

“You stay here,” she told him, and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, before she proffered him one of the just-finished chocolates on the counter. “You grow your flowers, and you eat your chocolates, and you heal. You’ve got a place here, and we’ll make sure no one ever finds you unless you want them to.

 +++

Broken Earth: (FULL COLLECTION)

Orchid Delivery

Not Coffee (Subscriber Only!)

Picky Tea

Raspberry-Ginger

Unexpected Unfriend (Subscriber Only!)

Old-Fashioned Flavors (Subscriber Only!)

Vanilla Welcome

Twin Talk (Subscriber Only!)

Helping Hands

Healing Orchids (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[numinousmysteries]

Vanquish by Wisdom Hellish Wiles (9/9)

On AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

@today-in-fic

I started this story in October 2017 after first seeing the season 11 trailer, forgot about it for six years, and then finally finished it. Compared to what some other amazing writers in this fandom are creating, it's honestly not great, but coming back to it helped me remember that writing can be fun. I hope to keep writing and hopefully keep improving. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy my vision for how the show could have ended.

As a baby, William moved the mobile above his crib using his mind. As a teenager, he employed his psychic powers to save his birth parents’ lives by spontaneously killing an entire cadre of black ops forces and, presumably, the smoking man and Reyes as well. And yet, in Scully’s mind, neither of those facts were the most impressive thing about her son.

To her, it was simply that he was there—alive and in front of her in the flesh. She wanted to stop time and catalog every detail of his body the way she and Mulder did days after he was born, laying him out on her bed and silently marveling at his tiny toes, chubby limbs, and rosebud mouth. She wanted to run her hands over his face and memorize every feature. Her baby was almost a man and he was just as perfect to her as the day he was born.

There was so much that she missed and so much she doesn’t know. When did he take his first steps? What’s his favorite food? Was he a cautious rule-follower like herself or was he constantly pushing the limits like his father? She’d never get those years back and she’d never forgive herself for giving him away, but in that moment all that mattered was that they were together again.

Mulder’s eyes reflected her astonishment back at her. In their almost 30 years together, they’d learned to communicate without words. A glance, a wink, or a nod could convey missives of emotion. As they stood in the driveway, too stunned to move, she could tell he was as overwhelmed—by shock, by love, by awe—as she was.

“Come on,” William said. “There might be others coming. Let’s go.”

Her son’s voice. Low and deep like his father’s.

“Yeah, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching for her hand. “We better get going.”

She could only nod in response and let Mulder lead them both back to their car.

“You call each other by your last names,” William said. She could tell it wasn’t a question but him logging a fact about them, or confirming one he had already sensed.

“We work together,” Scully said. “And it just stuck.”

William nodded. She was grateful he didn’t ask any questions about her and Mulder’s current relationship that she couldn’t answer. Working together the past couple of months had been good for them. They’d found their old rhythm and had been spending more time together outside of work as well, but she hadn’t felt ready to move back in yet.

Back at the car, Scully realized she didn't know where they’d go. Would they bring William back to DC with them? If colonization was imminent, she needed to get started on developing a vaccine as soon as possible.

“Can we go get my parents?” William asked, as if reading her mind. “They’re probably worried about me.”

Mulder smiled. “Sure,” he said.

“Sorry,” William said sheepishly. “I mean my adoptive parents. That’s just…what I’ve always called them.”

“Don’t apologize, William,” said Scully, even though she admitted to herself that it cut like a knife to hear her son refer to strangers as his parents. “I’m thankful you were placed with a good family who took care of you all these years.”

“Yeah,” Mulder responded. “And I do imagine they’d be worried about you.”

******

They arrived in Wyoming the following morning. William slept on the plane but Mulder and Scully, sitting on either side of him, stayed awake—both keeping guard and watching him in awe.

“This is where you grew up?” Scully asked, after William directed them to a small but well-kept farmhouse.

“Yup, lived here my whole life—well, that I can remember.”

Scully nodded. His childhood must’ve been so different from the one she could’ve given him. Instead of living in a city, he had fields to run and roam in. She wondered if he played baseball like his father and what kind of games he invented for himself when he was little to stay busy in this wide open space.

As they approached the house they noticed the front door was open and the screen door was swinging on its hinges.

“Do your parents normally leave the door open like that?” Mulder asked.

“No,” William said. “That’s weird.”

“I’m going to go check it out,” Mulder said, reaching for his gun. “You two wait in the car.”

It was the first time Scully was alone with her son since finding him the night before. She sat in the passenger seat stealing glimpses of him in the rearview mirror.

“This must be a lot to take in,” she said.

William shrugged his shoulders. “I always knew I was different. Monica told me about you guys.”

Scully swallowed. She wanted to ask Wiliam so many questions but it was impossible to even know where to start. How do you make up for fifteen years—an entire life in his case? She had once known every inch of skin on his tiny body and now he was essentially a stranger. Did he have any scars? Any broken bones? She didn’t know what he liked to eat or his favorite movie.

“Have you ever seen The Exorcist?” he asked from the backseat, startling Scully.

“It’s one of my favorite movies,” she said.

“Me too. My parents don’t watch any horror movies but I started downloading some classics and I love them.”

“William, were you reading my thoughts just now? Why did you bring up The Exorcist?”

“I guess I had a sense of what you were thinking,” he said. “It’s not so clear cut like listening to someone talk out loud but I get sentiments and sometimes words. It’s strong with you. And Mulder, too.”

“Could you read your parents like that?”

“Yeah, I got better at it over time.”

Mulder emerged alone from the house. He jogged back to the car and knocked on Scully’s window, gesturing for her to come with him. She followed him to the front porch.

“Scully, there are two bodies inside. A middle-aged white male and female. Looks like gunshot wounds. I think I can guess who they are and I’d rather not ask William to have to identify them.”

“Shit,” Scully said. “What do we do?”

They heard William’s car door open and watched as he came to stand with them. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

“Oh, William,” Scully sighed.

“I had a feeling,” he said, looking down at his sneakers.

“Is there anyone else we should try to find? Any other family or friends?” Mulder asked.

William shook his head. He was still looking down but Scully could see him starting to cry.

“I’m so sorry, William,” Scully said. She embraced her son and felt his tears dampening her blouse. Mulder stepped closer and wrapped his arms around both of them.

They were three broken people. Parents who’d lost their child and a child who’d lost his parents, but somehow they were also a family. They just had to find a way to pick up the pieces and find each other once again.

*****

Mulder and Scully offered to move to William’s hometown in Wyoming for him to finish up high school and start their vaccine research there, but he felt no connection to the place without his adopted parents. If anything, he was desperate for a fresh start. His old town was filled with reminders of what he’d lost.

So instead Wiliam moved into their home in Virginia. It was an older, more rundown house but he could tell they had made it a home. He preferred that it wasn’t in the heart of the city because it was less of a dramatic change from his childhood home. Mulder explained that he and Scully had been giving each other some space and she had her own apartment, but as soon as they were back from Wyoming she started every night at the house and slowly moved her belongings back.

There was a spare room on the second floor for him to move his things into.

“I know this is uncomfortable,” said Scully, showing him to his room. “We love you so much, but we know you’re still just getting to know us. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“What was in here before?” William said.

“Nothing,” Mulder said. “We never spoke about it, but I think we both hoped you’d be here one day.”

They’d had nearly everything from his old bedroom shipped out to Virginia to try to make the transition smooth. At first he told them he didn’t mind starting over, but as he sat in his new-old room he realized he appreciated the small comforts of home—his snow globe collection, his family photos, and his worn-in baseball glove.

“We should have a catch sometime,” Mulder said, picking up the glove.

“I’d like that.”

They had a lot of work to do. They were racing against an unseen clock to beat the invasion. Scully had already taken blood and saliva samples from William to try to isolate his alien DNA to create a vaccine. They had some old associates who were going to help with the science but there was still the issue of convincing the entire global population to take a vaccine to prevent the colonization of the planet–without inciting mass panic.

William had faith in his birth parents, though. Every night they told him about their old cases which never failed to thrill him. And each day the awkward silences between the three of them started filling up with inside jokes, spirited arguments, and stories of the past that helped close the fifteen-year gap since the last time they were together.

They were careful about giving him space and typically after dinner he’d retreat to his room while his parents sat and talked on the front porch. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was comforting to hear their voices drifting up through his bedroom window.

One night around a month after moving in, he decided to join them outside. Scully smiled and scooted over, making room for him to sit in between them on the bench.

“I know you guys keep saying I don’t have to thank you for taking me in,” William started, “but I really do appreciate it. Growing up, I never thought I’d meet you or that if I did… you wouldn’t want anything to do with me because of…who I am and what I can do.”

“William, we love you for being exactly who you are. As I’m sure you’ve started to realize, the two of us aren’t exactly the picture of normalcy either. I think, together, we make a great team,” said Scully.

“Now we just have to save the world,” William said smiling.

“No pressure, right?” Mulder chuckled.

His parents draped their arms around him from either side and he felt himself relaxing against them. For the first time in his life he felt like he was exactly where he should be.

[starsinthenigth]

i'm curious about g/t since I have never heard about it before. Can you explain it 🤔 ONLY IF YOU FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH THAT!!!!

and this is a genuine question! I am just curious since this is the first time I have ever heard about it <3

★..it would be my pleasure.★

★So, here is what G/T is from MY understanding:

⭐| So, first of all G/T is an acronym used for 'Giant/Tiny', and it's a trope in which, in most cases- is with two people, where the one is human and the other is a tiny..like- a couple of inches tall. However, this is not always the case. Sometimes, it can be with stories that follow the lives of a tiny civiliansation (such as fairies, borrowers ect), or it can show us how giants or mini-giants (which are basically humans but freakishly tall.. like 15 foot tall or more), work their way through a world full of humans or smaller beings. Honestly, the possibilities of new stories are basically endless!! You can go wild with G/t, I don't think that there are any limits while creating stories.

⭐| It's also a really great idea to use if you want to explore as to how people live while being supernatural sizes: How they view the world around them, how certain everyday tasks may be impossible or a struggle for them, their way of living whle being like 6 inches tall, or 40 foot tall- (you can go crazy with the sizes, I'm just adding random numbers.)

⭐| Now, with G/t comes a LOT of tropes-with the most common ones being fluff and fearplay (whether it is intentional or not, consentual- where both the tiny agrees with the giant that 'yeah you can scare the living shit out of me'/j, vore, whump- a ton shit of things basically, gah I love fearplay)

⭐|Also, G/t can be found in WHOLE lot popular media such as:

The Tinkerbell Movies

Ratatouille

The Iron Giant

Ant-Man

Little Nigthmares (horror video game)

The Borrowers Movie

Grounded (video game)

★Now, I just want to clarify that this poor explanation is just from my understanding and I don't mean to speak for the entire G/t community- every member of the community might have a different perspective on the whole 'Giant/Tiny' thing =]★ I'm just very inartucalate lmao

★Hope that gave you at least a better understanding of what G/t is!!★

[lady-stardust-incarnate]

hello all here's my inconclusive rant on my thoughts on aliens

right so first of all, to me it's hard not to believe they exist in some sort of intelligent form. I mean we already know there's dozens of planets that are suitable for life, many even having better conditions for humans than earth

Basically there's probably plenty of life that we don't know about yet, I mean scientists believe that life could exist in an age where most low mass stars have become white dwarfs and our star isn't that unique to us, even more so when you consider that we've only looked into a tiny portion of our universe, only discovered around 10000 exoplanets knowing there could be millions, billions, etc.

But my main question is if we somehow found a way to meet with life on other planets, what would happen from there?

The first problem starts with communication, being that they could communicate with each other in ways that our brains could never think of because the concept of what they do just doesn't exist on earth. To me its like the colour spectrum where we can't imagine new colours that we can't see because our brains just aren't capable of visualising them with the way that we are (I still want to be that one little shrimp that can see loads of colours).

Then there's the further possibility of them for example communicating in sounds that are far too high in frequency for humans to even register. Communicating in sounds that many humans can't differentiate because of our limited pitch recognition ability.

And even if they just so happened to speak in a way that's just like a regular language on earth, they will have evolved in a completely different way so that the structure of their languages are completely different. There may not even be a part present and future tense in their languages and we almost certainly wouldn't be able to work out how to speak it using any comparison of human languages.

Basically it would be almost impossible to learn how to communicate with them. Also considering that the only way languages spread on Earth is through people who know multiple languages and are able to teach both, and people working out communication through typical language structures and conjugations and managing to work put each others languages. Given that these other life forms' languages may not have any patterns at all and seem completely random to us.

Closing thoughts are that even if we somehow came into contact with other worldly life forms, it could be impossible or take years to be able to even slightly communicate with them. This to me doesn't make the idea of aliens any less interesting, but it really goes to show how much is truly unfathomable to the human brain which will likely be knowledge we can't ever gain because it's simply too far out of reach.

[spotsupstuff]

I have been encouraged by the fact that you seem to be tolerating my rants and I was literally JUST thinking about ancient hair so hi I'm invading your askbox yet again but this time with images to back up my chaos

here is a graffiti! Most likely of an ancient, judging by the humanoid stature, the stripes on its body, the little spots, the covered-up eyes (it bugs me how the ancients black out their eyes in artworks. I get that it's probably part of the whole 'abate thine self' mindset but I WANT TO SEE THEIR WHOLE FACES DAMN IT)

But this ancient is missing their tentacle-hair!! This leads me to believe that some ancients either straight-up lack this feature, have lost their tentacles somehow, or perhaps even choose to remove them.

While no other images (that I have currently found, there may be others) depict completely bald ancients, several show them no visible tentacle-hair.

Here is one of the tapestries:

The one on the right has very long and obvious tentacle-hair. The one of the left doesn't appear to have any (unless they do and I'm just blind). I would guess that this ancient just has the shorter variant of the tentacle hair, or be missing it entirely.

This image shows that ancients also canonically have tiny tails!!! This is shown by the ancient on the right, who appears to. um. not be wearing any clothing. My apologies for showing this indecency, it was either this or the Karma 2 tapestry.

Also their feet. Do not get me started on the pure confusion that is ancient feet.

Here is an image which you've shown several times now. In my opinion it's the best depiction of an ancient that we have. I refer to it as 'the holy grail of ancient imagery' (sorry, I'm a nerd).

This ancient has pretty darn short tenta-hair compared to some of the other art. Their bottom three tentacles have extra rings surrounding the little center dot which could be evidence at tenta-hair trimming (I'm kinda grasping at straws here but idk).

There are several other images depicting short tentacle-hair, but I honestly can't tell whether or not those images are actually ancients or just wacky blobs.

ANOTHER THING!!

This dude looks like a skeleton. Does that mean the tentacle-hair have little bones at its base????? The implications of this for the first graffiti I showed, with the ancient with no tentacle hair! The poor dude lost their head bones!

Before I slither back to my cave I would also like to deposit this graffiti:

It's clearly not an ancient, but it appears to have the tentacle-hair. Distant ancestor, perhaps? It may just be a very heavily stylized ancient (body modifications, maybe?) But I mean. Come on. That is pretty clearly some type of aquatic animal. And it looks vaguely like an ancient. ANCIENTS ARE OCEAN CREATURES. FIGHT ME.

This is all wild and rampant speculation, please correct me if I missed something, got something terribly wrong, or if none of this makes any sense whatsoever.

And my apologies for desecrating your askbox again. You may politely tell me to shut up at any point and I'll move my rampant speculation somewhere else

(and I just noticed that someone made Sparrows fanart. Why did I never think of doing this before arghhhh *runs off to find my drawing tablet*)

oh dear god why's there Bone in The Sasanka jaysus fuck video cult what have you done........

though honestly- if u're allowin my opinion- some things are most likely artistic choices. the skeleton hair thing is most likely to definitely an artistic choice of some dude goin "i wanna draw a cool skull but don't wanna miss out on the hair...- oh i know!"

the holy grail one is legit so fuckin good, gods bless- n i'm really sorry to bap at your straws, but yeah, that's probably not much

i can actually tell you for fact that those are attempts at gettin the end of the tentacle more defined/communicated to the viewer or it's leftovers of the sketch in some way. how am i so sure? cuz dear god.

shaking hands with this anonymous lost soul of an Ancient graffiti artist in these chilli's tonight

with feet i'm also pretty sure a lot of stuff is artistic interpretation tangling in! the most canonical feet pic glimpse we get are these

with the rest being so small EITHER cuz of that artistic decision shit or there might be another bound of body horror involved, from either cutting the toes off or doing similar feet binding technique that was a thing in real life China. i like to think the bottoms of their feet still have pedal disks that sea anemones possess n they gotta wrap 'em up like this to avoid sticking to floors cuz that shit is like suction cups

ah yes, karma three mural.... i've had that shit opened on my browser for a month now, i know that one intimately. yeah! that one is the culprit behind every single tail on an Ancient in the whole fandom n i adore it so much. the fact that it's so... sad (lookit the fuckin teeny nub, whatcha gon do with that) made me decide that the lower circles have more proper ones! and -tsk- AAAAAAHR who give a shit bout nudity up in this bitch, this just how we ball. all from the artistic, biological and religious sense, heavens know each time i draw Sparrows from behind without her jacket on i feel like i'm toeing Some kind of line. nudity is just a different kind of deal for them than for us culturally n i think that is super neat actually. taking things that are a given to us n flippin it all on its head is one of my favorite things to do, rule 180° bayyybeeee

n i do NOT mean this in a mean way, this is lighthearted but i'm JGSDKMCLKMKGKSDLCK i get handed a clam with a whale tale with lil geysers on top of it n told "this is Sparrows' great times 1000 grandpapa" JGSKLCKL

LIKE,,, NOT DISPUTING IT CUZ WHO THE HELL KNOWS ANYMORE. SEA ANEMONES WITH BIPEDAL BODY PLAN IS ALREADY SO FUCKIN WEIRD THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN. i just can't help but see some sorta looney tunes clam whale in it. -dreamy sigh- what if they had looney tunes-esque cartoons...........

but yes, these fucked up things Def came from the oceans cuz the oceans always spit out the strangest shit and i also adore to think that their whole society runs on water energy/steam so the connection of It Came From The Sea with that really tickles my worldbuilding enthusiast brain

[spectralquartzafterdark]

Follow up to Megs marking Rosie up anon.

How does ratchet react, does he get jealous, sneak away, argue with Megs more and say that was very immature/ a danger to his precious human. 👀 I’m too invested now too-

More continuation, this time it's my turn huhu. -Rosie Part One - Part Two - Part Three

She hadn't been in the medical bay for two days. He was starting to get concerned. Very rarely did she miss work. Granted it was voluntary, but it was nice to have her around. Despite how distracting it was at times.

"She's probably just sick." Drift said, "Or she found out about your lil crush."

"Shut it Drift." Ratchet frowned, "Megatron's already been up my aft I don't need you up it too."

Drift chuckled, "Listen, when you're ready to talk I'm here." he held up his Servos and left the bay.

Ratchet frowned knowing that he would have to actually talk about what happened. To some degree anyways. Something Megatron said has been playing on loop in his head.

She thinks you hate her.

It was quite the opposite. Clearly. Even if he was far more critical of her than he meant to be. He just didn't understand her at times. Most others would hear about the Decepticons and immediately have a distaste for them. But, not her. She showed them far more empathy than they deserved. Far more kindness than they needed. And most who had defected loved her. She was able to talk to them, understand them, and even be a bridge in communication.

That's how they ended up with Starscream of all Mechs. Ratchet couldn't prove it, but he knew it was why Optimus and Megatron were rekindling their friendship. She had a way with words. If she were a Mech she'd have a seat in the senate. She'd own it. He just felt it in his Spark.

He sighed looking at his report. Thankfully nothing needed to be updated. So, he was just to stand at his post until he was needed. Which wouldn't be an issue if she were there with him.

His mind began to wander as he replayed every moment he put his pede in his mouth. It slowly began to sink in why she thought that. He leaned his helm back onto the wall.

"Primus... I messed up." he mumbled.

He thought back to when they had no translators. When Bumblebee was still stuck on Earth. How he forced her to work like a dog. All because of how small she was. She could fix issues he couldn't reach. How her servos had been blistered and bruises. How she literally worked until her digit's bled.

She never complained.

Then when the translators were in effect, he was hyper critical of any move she made when it came to fixing Mechs. All because he couldn't see past "Proper Procedure" it was the real reason he had been upset with her fixing Megatron. It didn't follow protocol. But, why should it have mattered? She knew how to save him and she did without his help.

He was pulled out of his own circuits when he heard the familiar sound of tiny footsteps. He focused his optics down and saw Rosie. He waved and she waved back.

He noted the marks on her body and couldn't help, but chuckle. Megatron was territorial. But, after what Megatron caught him doing he couldn't complain too much. Though he did worry that those marks were a bit too much for such a small human.

"There's no work today. So, unless you want to work on that journal I assigned you and the others..." he spoke.

"Sure, that's fine. I know there's a lot of information we still need to write down for you." she spoke as she made her way up the lift to be at eye level with him, "A lil birdie told me you were beside yourself since I wasn't here. If it helps, I genuinely was down for the count... and it had nothing to do with this."

She motioned vaguely at the dentae marks.

"Drift... his record isn't the best, but he has a good Spark." he admitted.

"Yea, most of 'em do. It's why I'm so patient." she said going to the screen and bringing up the journal.

Ratchet stayed quiet for a moment and let her work. He watched as she quickly filled in the information the journal required. It was basic information, but Bumblebee suggested it. Mainly so they all had a guide at a glance.

Favorite Foods, Drinks, Health Issues, Allergies, and so on. It was a care booklet essentially.

Though as he watched her move as she typed on the keyboard that was far too big for her. Something inside of him snapped.

"I'm sorry. Megatron told me... that you think I hate you. And I've realized it's my fault. I've been far too critical of you. And I apologize."

He watched as Rosie's body went slack as she turned to look at him. Those hazel eyes looked close to tears.

"I couldn't see past my own bias... you're very skilled Rosie, and you've solved problems I couldn't and I don't give you enough credit. Can you forgive me for that?"

There's a moment of silence. Ratchet could feel his Spark moving and thrumming erratically. But, it calmed when she nodded. She sighed and saved her progress before she turned to him and spoke.

"Thank you for that..." she said, "I understand safety protocols, but it's often times better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"That's true. In Megatron's case... I'm glad you did. I never would have thought to use such a small electric current to give a Spark life. To add cables and wires where a frame needed more support to make sure his body processed enough Energon. Where did you get the idea?" he smiled leaning on the lift.

"Human Hearts... we have a very similar build and sometimes when our heart can't get enough blood to pump. We add in extra tubes called stents. And even small devices to keep them beating. When they stop we often use a strong electric current to keep them beating. And since he was missing a chunk of his systems... it made sense." she explained, "There's far more, but I don't know the medical terms."

He nodded, "I suppose our bodies aren't so different after all. At least on a base level."

"We're not." she said, her facial expression changed, "Megatron is very important to me Ratchet. And I know it's not something you particularly care for, but -"

He shook his head, "You needn't explain. You are important to me, and that is enough for me. I want to be a better friend."

Finally, it was out in the open. She smiled, a genuine one - he had never seen it before.

Ratchet felt a swirl of emotions, but they all boiled down to one thing. Relief. After all, he loved her - and that was enough. Even if he couldn't express it in the way he wanted.

[summitclan-chronicles]

Let's Take A Hike.

It's been over a full day since our pinned post was put up! I already have some followers and I welcome everyone - thank you for your interest already! Since we have a small audience I thought I would come in and say hello in a more relaxed way.

My name is Jingo (he/him)! I am the owner of SCC, as well as cat enthusiast, book consumer and local idea-haver. My favorite activity is Thinking Purposefully - mostly about my surroundings. The sky, the buildings, art pieces, textures, colors, smells, sounds, tones - taking in my environment in a planned methodical manner makes me feel immersed in it, like I'm giving every thing in my vicinity its deserved attention.

This habit is exactly how Summitclan was born.

In late summer of 2023, when the air is still thick but the wind blows cool, I started having a difficult time of things & my ever-patient and attentive partner decided to take me to a little lake to get me in the sun. We had a picnic, listened to music, danced, and the waves hush-hushed against the rocks. This day gave birth to a weekend tradition of hiking New York State's wilderness.

First it was just nature walks, then small forays into wooded foothills, with loops and connected webbings of trails. Then we set our sights on the Adirondack range, and the rolling peaks we always admired during the early morning drive to work, blue sentinels that - at the time of posting - are slowly being swallowed by encroaching wintry night-dawns.

I have been to, and fallen in love with, a little troop of peaks now: Buck Mountain is a dear friend, but I have also gotten to know Roostercomb and Shelving Rock. On all these ventures I found myself unable to stop Thinking Purposefully. I notice every fallen acorn, rustling leaf and broken stick; I eagerly observe how water falls down rocks, how leaves flutter to the ground, how downed trees entangle with each other, keeping each other alive. I discovered minute bugs, observant chipmunks, hidden slugs, old snail shells, coyote tracks, whitetail antler scrapes and old abandoned black bear dens.

As often happens, I became haunted by little cats.

If you've gone this far you probably have heard of Warrior Cats, and its magnetic pull toward certain people. In any natural setting they crawl into the backs of my eyes, and my hikes are no different, similarly influenced by tiny invasive animals with funny habits. But I am a writer, a poet, a dork; I like exploring ideas. I'll never solve a rubik's cube, but my brain might as well be one.

As I turned warrior-cats-in-the-adirondacks around and around, I started mucking up a silly fanclan I started calling AntlerClan after its fake mountain, Antlerhead Mountain. (This is still the name of the mountain in the full version, but the cats don't know that.) The cats in my head now form prehistoric generations of Summitclan: they showed me how they came together, how they showed they cared, and what they did for the cats in the future... but I was still seeing this from the angle of a fanfiction, and try as I might I could not escape the thick fog of "modern" characters. I could think of many ideas for the formations, the cultures, the stories, the values, but what about now?

It occured to me that it wasn't a story I could, or even would, write alone. This sort of project isn't really something to be discussed, but lived and experienced, I supposed: interpreted and used and tested against organic situations.

So, I retooled some things to make them compatible with roleplay instead. The little cats in my head were pleased with the changes. Now they told me all sorts of things and I knew this was a community I was building, not a story.

So here we are at the summit of our hike, and the birth of Summitclan. As my thoughts were cresting I happened to find my copy of Tailchaser's Song. After a spotty reread I got the idea to drop the capitalized "Clan." It feels appropriate in the books, when the Clanhood feels so intensely identifying and they feel so othered from neighboring groups. But Summitclan lives alone, and is intrinsically one with the rest of the surrounding population of cats. They cannot afford to feel othered or to turn their nose at things unfamiliar or strange, so isolated are they.

So, Summitclan it was. I had my moment in the sun, standing at the peak of my work: the building was done. Now came the hard work of going back down before dark.

September 9th, 2023 I made my very first draft of the roleplay version of my idea. On the 26th, I had my things properly organized and rewritten to my liking. I decided I would start advertising in November, and open in 2024.

So here we are. It is a Friday, November 3rd. We have reached the parking lot at the bottom of our hike, now. When you hike with someone you learn a lot about them: do they take the muddy path or the dry path? hard or easy? do they pause often to take in the view? I hope you've learned enough about me now to feel comfortable joining my community. I plan on going on a lot of hikes.

In the meantime, here are some photos of my adventures. Whatever comes up the trail ahead, I wish you the best, and I'm very glad I met you!