#Youth Homelessness Prevention

[fosteringinsc]

Transitional Housing: A Solution for Stable Accommodation for Foster Youth in the United States in 2024

Transitional Housing: A Solution for Stable Accommodation for Foster Youth in the United States. Transitional housing represents a critical solution in the continuum of care for foster youth in the United States. The journey from foster care to independent living is fraught with challenges, yet transitional housing programs offer a beacon of hope, bridging the gap and preparing these young adults…

[dandelionsresilience]

Just in case Trump wins:

right after Trump was elected in 2016, suicidality skyrocketed. If you’re considering suicide in the wake of the election this year, at least wait until after it’s absolutely certain that he’s won - after every vote has been counted, every state certified, and maybe even after he’s been sworn in (IF he wins), just to make sure he doesn’t go to prison instead. Watch the results come in live here, but don’t obsess or let them sway your vote. (To be clear, I don’t want a single person to commit suicide over the election results, no matter what. But I know from experience that “don’t do it” is thoroughly unhelpful, so instead I’m saying at least wait.)

if you’re considering suicide because you fear worsening material conditions, you might think a hotline can’t help with that. and it’s true that they can’t change legislation or promise you’ll be safe. but it’s worth double checking whether what you’re actually hurting from is in fact unfixable. right now, just getting through the emotions can help you regain a more objective view of the situation, and then you can work on surviving it. plus, when something bad happens, we tend to vastly overestimate how bad it will seem in the future, no matter how bad it actually is.

In my experience, it might take a few tries before you find a hotline that picks up, either because they’re so busy, or they’re closed at that time, or they simply don’t serve your location or demographic, so under the thingy I’ve listed more than just the same handful that tend to show up on other websites. Even if you’re not actively suicidal, you can talk to them about your hard feelings, ask for material resources, or just vent to a compassionate listener.

FIND HELP

HopeLine - call/text: 877-235-4525

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline - call/text: 988 | chat

Crisis Text Line - text HOME to 741741 | chat

help getting out of the military

for underrepresented adults:

Thrive Lifeline - text THRIVE to 313-662-8209

for pre-teens, teens, and young adults:

Your Life Your Voice - call: 800-488-3000 | text VOICE to 20121 | email

for teens (limited hours):

Teen Line - call: 800-852-8336 | text TEEN to 839863 | email

for trans and questioning people:

Trans Lifeline - call: 1-877-565-8860

for people with substance dependency:

Never Use Alone Overdose Prevention Hotline - call: 877-696-1996

for BIPOC (“with an LGBTQ+ Black Femme Lens”):

BlackLine - call: 1-800-604-5841

for college students of colour:

The Steve Fund Crisis Text Line - text STEVE to 741741

for LGBTQ+ young people:

The Trevor Project - call: 1-866-488-7386 | text START to 678678 | chat

for homeless or runaway youth:

National Runaway Safeline - call/text: 1-800-786-2929 | (has chat and email, but I think the link includes tracking)

for Muslim youth (limited hours):

Naseeha Youth Hotline - call: 1-866-627-3342

Amala Hopeline - call: 1-855-952-6252

for Jewish queer youth (warmline, may take up to 24 hours to reply):

JQY Warmline - call/text: 551-579-4673

for veterans:

Veterans Crisis Line - call: 988, option 1 | text: 838255 | chat

for veterans and their families:

Lifeline for Vets - call: 888-777-4443

for pregnant people:

Crisis Pregnancy Hotline - call: 888-628-3353 | text: 714-448-8323

for parents unsure of their ability to care for a newborn:

National Safe Haven Alliance - call: 888-510-2229 | text SAFEHAVEN to 313131

International Council for Helplines Member Organisations

Warmlines - for emotional support, if you just need to talk; a lower level of support than crisis hotlines

NAMI Helpline directory

Key warmline directory (unclear if 317-550-0060 might also be a warmline, I haven’t tried it)

Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line (limited hours) - call: 888-407-4515

[mindblowingscience]

Researchers have found that aunts play a crucial role in supporting the well-being of their LGBTQ youth relatives, including preventing them from experiencing homelessness. These findings are published in Socius, an open access journal. The research paper, coauthored by Brandon Andrew Robinson, associate professor and chair of the University of California, Riverside's Gender and Sexuality Studies Department, is based on a longitudinal study of 83 LGBTQ youth from the Inland Empire and South Texas, two geographic areas identified as understudied places in LGBTQ research.

Continue Reading.

[firewalkzwit]

chemical world || simon / john q. x reader (dinner in america)

just a blurb because im up the ass with school and the one-shot i wrote was rubbish sorry. "x reader" might be a stretch its just hqs and stuff i think of simon with song sneaks in the middle coz when do i not

Chemical World - Blur

Simon of extreme hedonistic beliefs above all prioritises nothing other than pleasure, and takes pride in the aesthetic disruption this signifies. Having a shower around won't be enough to pinch his personal hygiene urges, even if it is for the sake of others. He'll bathe if he can and if he wants to.

This obviously extends to his deliberately controversial haircut. It amuses him to watch the discomfort and confusion it creates in those who see him. It's neither a mullet nor a mohawk (matter of fact, he despises either of the groups who wear such hairstyles), but rather his own third thing.

Obviously he's slightly taken aback when you fancy him for it. Not that it has ever prevented him from getting laid (he would have eventually buzzed it if it did), but the occasional compliments and caresses on his greasy hair from your tender hands never fail to remind him that he too is just a mere mortal beneath things like female affection.

Saints - The Breeders

He praises womanhood just as much as he teases it. There is an adolescent air in the way he speaks derogatorily about your mother, or even when he gets turned on out of insulting you in bed. Still, slurs that come and go only wind up humiliating him when he kneels before you, eyes wide open and hungry.

He's very versatile in that department, he'll take any place in bed as long you ask. Nothing is more arousing than your gratitude. He won't be picky about how you express it, but he has favourites; the scratching of nails in a useless attempt of grabbing the wall makes him feel like he really did his job well.

I Am the Resurrection - The Stone Roses

Not having to be functional to work timings or tedious 9 to 5-s allows Simon to have an ample disposition to, what he calls, "fuck around" any day, anytime. Although he resents the fact that you occasionally choose your adult responsibilities above him, he'll hardly hold you to it for too long. Instead, decompression is highly recreational and experimental. A wide range of psychedelics, psychotropics, psycholeptics... all to be found in some dubious corner of his backpack.

Frankly, open-mindedness is one of the few must-have traits to date him. He wont tolerate uptight or rigorous personalities. This does not imply that it was ever a requirement for you to be an avid drug consumer, but he'll take no reprimands if he chooses to pop a Percocet.

Simon's open-mindedness policy is fairly restricted when it comes to music. Not that he only listens to one genre, as his enthusiasm for punk has inevitably derived in enjoying all of those that influenced or derivate from it, but he believes most are acquired tastes. Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Melvins and Fugazi sit around in his record collection.

He loves it when you ask about his records, and far from judging you if you ever don't know, he'll sit down on the floor with his back rested against the bed and his records in hand. Encyclopedic narrations of the socio-cultural context of the origin of most of his favourite bands could be biography-worth if it weren't for all the "fuck"s between them.

"Fuckin' Christ, Pink Flag? That fuckin' invented post-punk. Would I care for that shit if it didn't? Probably not, but because of fuckin' Wire now I have to give a fuck about these snobby fucks from Bauhaus and the idiots in PiL."

Strange - Galaxie 500

The record player in your room is mostly crowded around by his own collection, which was homeless up until recently. There's many things Simon likes about you, but taking in his records was to him what to others is a ring on their finger.

In a relationship with someone who thinks music is sacred, you cannot miss his gigs, they are mass. He loves to parade you around backstage to his bandmates and sing to you when they play, loves that you take your friends with you; so they can see you seeing him. Nothing makes him feel more desired than spotting you in the crowd mouthing his lyrics.

Post-shows getting wrecked in a local bar until they kick you out is his favourite thing to do, but he'll take backseat sex if he sees you're in the mood for it, subtly letting everyone know as he guides you holding you by the wrist. On colder seasons, the night dew will curtain the windows of the pick-up truck he borrows just in hopes that you'll give him the special look, inviting him for a quickie before heading home letting you pick the radio station.

Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain

[lesbi-nyan]

i might be going homeless soon. not now. but soon. as some of you may know, i've been couch surfing since mid october.

i just called someone i know, and the thing with dogsitting her dogs in exchange for 2 months free housing isnt going to happen, cause she's getting renovations done and she has a friend from out of town visiting.

and now all my eggs are in one basket on this organisation that "prevents queer youths from going homeless," but the first time i visited, they told me i'd be low priority cause I'm "not homeless." so.. i finally have a proper meeting with someone scheduled for the 31st. but im so fucking scared and nervous and idek what im going to do if this doesnt work out. i have one place i can stay for a week, but that's it. all the other places ive stayed i've exhausted cause it's too expensive for them to house me again. and I do not want to return to living with my parents. it won't go well and i'll stuck in the same shit cycle of verbal and emotional abuse.

I'm making minimum wage, my hours are shit, and i'm struggling to find another job. I hate being this pessemistic but it's all falling apart.

Please consider tipping my paypal if you like my lewds and want to help out so i can at least afford groceries ~nya

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week. #5

Feb 9-16 2024

The Department of Education released the first draft for a wide ranging student loan forgiveness plan. After Biden's first attempt at student debt forgiveness was struck down at the Supreme Court in 2023, this new plan is an attempt to replace it with something that will hold up in court. The plan hopes to forgive debt for anyone facing "financial hardship" which has been as broadly defined as possible. Another part of the plan hopes to eliminate $10-20,000 in interest from all student loans, as well as a wide ranging public Information push to inform people of other forgiveness programs they qualify for but don't know about.

The House passed 1.2 Billion Dollars to combat human trafficking, including $175 million in housing assistance to human trafficking victims

The Department of Transportation announced $970 Million for improvements at 114 airports across 44 states and 3 territories. They include $40 million to O'Hare International in Chicago to improve passenger experience by reconfiguring TSA and baggage claims, and installing ADA compliant bathrooms(!). The loans will also go to connecting airports to mass transit, boosted sustainability, installing solar and wind power, and expanding service to under served committees around the country.

Medicare & Medicaid released new guidelines to allow people to pay out of pocket prescription drug coats in monthly installments rather than as a lump sum. This together with capping the price of certain drugs and penalties for drug companies that rise prices over inflation is expected to save the public millions on drug coasts and assure people don't pass on a prescription because they can't pay upfront

The EPA announced its adding 150 more communities to its Closing America's Wastewater Access Gap Community Initiative. 2.2 Million Americans do not have basic running water and indoor plumbing. Broken and unreliable wastewater infrastructure exposed many of those to dangerous raw sewage. These Americans live primarily in poor and rural communities, many predominantly Black communities in the south as well as those on tribal lands. The program is aiming to close the wastewater gap and insure all Americans have access to reliable clear water.

The White House announced deferred action for Palestinians in the US. This means any Palestinian living in the United States, no mater their legal status, can not be deported for any reason for the next 18 months.

The Department of Energy announced $60 million in investment into clean geothermal energy. The plan will hopefully lead to a 90% decrease in the coasts of geothermal. DOE estimates hold that geothermal might be able to power the hopes of 65 million Americans by 2050 making it a key step in the Biden administration plan for a carbon-free grid by 2035 and net-zero emissions by 2050.

The EPA launched $83 million to help improve air quality monitoring across America. With updated equipment local agencies will be better able to report on air quality, give more localized reports of bad air quality and the country will be better equipped to start mitigating the problem

The Department of Energy announced $63 million in investments in domestic heat-pump manufacturing. Studies have shown that heat-pumps reduce green house gases by 50% over the most efficient condensing gas boilers, as technology improves this could rise to 75% by 2030. Heat pump water heaters meanwhile are 2 to 3 times as energy efficient as conventional electric water heaters.

HHS awarded $5.1 million to organizations working with LGBTQI+ Youth and their Families. The programs focus on preventing homelessness, fighting depression and suicide, drug use and HIV prevention and treatment, as well as  family counseling and support interventions tailored for LGBTQI+ families.

The House passed two bills in support of the oppressed Uyghur minority in China. The "No Dollars To Uyghur Forced Labor" Act would prohibit the US government from spending any money on projects that source materials from Xinjiang. The Uyghur Policy Act would create a permanent post at the State Department to coordinate policy on Uyghur Issues, much like the special ambassador on antisemitism.

[qsmpzine]

💙 CHARITY ANNOUNCEMENT 💙

We are so excited to announce that the charity which this zine will support has been chosen! All profits from this zine will be donated to A Sense of Home - a charity which strives to prevent homelessness by creating first-ever homes and a community for youth aging out of foster care.

You can learn more about this charity and their cause here!

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

and yesterday i learned about a case where a german man beat his wife to death after she confronted him about his affair and he got only 11 years because they could not prove intention to kill so it was counted as manslaughter and he somehow got off after 4 years (in the 80s) then went on to physically abuse his future wives and also kidnapping three different people (for extortion) with his son (in the 90s) two of whom where from the same fucking family and he killed the last kidnapping victim who was a man and finally got a lifelong sentence with preventive custody but what the actual fuck

and i remember several cases where men attempted to kidnap children (to enact sexual violence and potentially murder) and they got off in less than five years and guess what went on to kidnap rape and murder kids because of course they did after only getting a slap on the wrist the first time they tried and people still claim misandry is an issue lmao

fuck rehabilitation for sexual and domestic abusers fuck giving kidnappers and child sexual abuse material watchers second chances let them rot and focus on people committing crimes out of desperation and necessity and integrating them into society and lift them out of their circumstances and focus on homeless and marginalised youth and shit

[pokemonshelterstories]

hello!

I’m thinking of starting a therapy place/shelter, mainly for queer youth, and I was wondering how to help possibly accustom my Pokémon to use as therapy mon? I raised most of them up from youth, and they’re quite friendly, but have been mostly used in battling (which is where I got the money for this) and I’m worried they might react adversely to other trainers and their companions. The main three I’d be using for this would be my Luxray Nimbus, who was the first I ever caught, and my Leafeon and Sylveon (shiny), Morel and Rory.

sorry for the long ask hehe

unfortunately, i think you'd have a really hard time doing this with your former battling pokemon. for liability's sake it's highly recommended that you certify therapy pokemon with an agency. and, for better or for worse, most of these agencies will not certify pokemon who are battle-trained. the general thinking is that a pokemon that has frequently battled, regardless of how friendly it is, is more likely to respond with aggression in unfamiliar situations. if one of your pokemon were to harm a client, you could be faced with charges.

there are, of course, some organizations that disagree with this line of thinking and will happily certify any pokemon that passes its tests; you'd have to look around to see if any such organization exists in your region. of all of those pokemon, your luxray would probably be the toughest to certify due to both general species temperament and typing. still, if you're concerned at all about the way any of them would react to clients, i personally think it's better to err on the side of caution and not use them as therapy pokemon without undergoing a full behavioral training course and assessment.

make sure that you also look into laws and recommendations surrounding accessibility and pokemon-free spaces. as a private establishment, you'd likely have control over whether or not you allow clients to have pokemon in your facilities. but many health providers and shelters do require clients' pokemon to be balled or boxed while they're inside to prevent things like unexpected battles. there's a lot of debate about whether allowing client pokemon in homeless shelters is a safety concern versus whether the mental/emotional effect of requiring vulnerable people to set their pokemon aside is demeaning/damaging. that's a choice you'll have to make for yourself, but i do think it's an important consideration.

[hyperlexichypatia]

CN: This post is about child abuse.

I was talking to a younger neurodivergent person about their horrifically abusive childhood, which included their parents beating them, drugging them, and sending them to abusive therapies, and for some reason my immediate thought was: That's so unfair, you shouldn't be allowed to beat your children AND pathologize them!

To be clear. I believe you should be allowed to do NEITHER of those things. Physical abuse and psychiatric abuse are both wrong!

But at minimum, you should at least have to choose between old-school, authoritarian, beating, yelling, physical-abuse-based parenting and new-school, authoritative, pathologizing, psychiatrizing, emotional-abuse-based parenting. They're mutually incompatible Abuse Philosophies!

The one (1) good, semi-redeeming thing about the psychiatrization of childhood and parenting is that it teaches that beating children is bad for them. Truly the only beneficial thing about it!

I remember reading about local schools adopting a "positive behavior interventions" system, and having mixed feelings about it -- Behaviorism is abuse, absolutely. But I live in an area where the largely unquestioned cultural norm is to deal with children by beating them. If parents can't be persuaded in a day to convert to neurodiversity-affirming, youth-affirming, gentle discipline, isn't getting them to deal with children's "bad behavior" by taking away stickers better than what they're currently doing? Is "positive behavior intervention" the lesser evil, in this case?

But is it? Is it even effective at that? What's to stop parents from sending their kids to behavioral therapy and also beating them? I honestly don't know.

Whenever mad liberation people argue against psychiatric abuse (forced drugging, coercive therapy, institutionalization, etc), pro-psychiatric-coercion people always defend it as better than "the alternative" of physical abuse. It's always "Would you rather they go to prison? Would you rather they be homeless? Would you rather they get beaten or shot by police?"

And of course, that's a false choice, because we would rather neither! We would rather disabled/Mad/neurodivergent people be free. Not abused or coerced in any way at all!

In addition, I'm reminded of something my partner said about men who brag about being "nice guys who don't abuse women like those other men do": Even if they're telling the truth (which, often, they're not), the value of this as a braggable claim is dependent on abusers being widespread. Mediocre men benefit from the widespread existence of abusive men, by getting to be the less-bad alternative to something worse.

The same is true of psychiatric abuse being "better than" physical abuse: Even if psychiatric wards and group homes are better than prisons, even if therapizing children is better than beating them, even if social workers are less abusive than police, even if all these things are true, the argument for psychiatric abuse relies on keeping physical abuse as an option on the table.

And even so, to circle back to my original point: Does psychiatric abuse even prevent physical abuse? Certainly not always. It also doesn't prevent poverty or homelessness -- we always point out that it's possible to materially support people without controlling them, but also, it's possible to control people without materially supporting them at all. Stripping people of their autonomy in order to get them financially provided for... doesn't actually get them financially provided for.

I also talked to a younger neurodivergent person who was kicked out of their parents' home at age 18. Gee, I thought the entire purpose of reclassifying young adults as still-children, and disabled adults as forever-children, was to prevent that from happening? I thought we had to endorse abusive parenting because the alternative is homelessness? Turns out, people with abusive parents can still end up homeless!

The status of youth rights and disability rights is so messed up. Parents can do essentially whatever they want to their children (especially if their children are disabled). It's disgusting and it's morally reprehensible at every level. I don't have an uplifting ending for this one.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Elseworlds Addendum - Richard Dragon

Born in America, Richard Dragon traveled to Japan in his youth.  He ended up homeless and turned to petty theft to get by.  One night he tried to steal a statue and was prevented from doing so by the martial arts master known as only as ‘O Sensei.’   The aged master saw potential in young Richard and decided to take him in as a student. Richard spent years studying with the O-Sensei, learning to control his anger and channel it into becoming a near-peerless master of kung fu.

After completing his training, Richard and his fellow student, Ben Turner, were recruited by the Global Organization of Organized Defense (GOOD) and acted as field agents for the counterespionage department.  Later, having retired as an adventurer, Richard Dragon became a combat instructor for several costumed vigilantes (his pupils including Barbara Gordon (Oracle), Renné Montoya (The Question), and Helena Bertinelli (The Huntress) among many others).

Although Richard Dragon did not appear in the original DCAU, he did feature in the animated movie, Batman: Soul of the Dragon, where the character was voiced by the great Mark Dacascos.   

The hero first appeared in Richard Dragon Kung Fu Fighter #1 (1975).   

[world-of-wales]

∘₊✧ 𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂 ✧₊∘

⋆ Action For Children

Action for Children is a charitable organization that has been making a difference in the lives of vulnerable children and families in the UK for over 150 years. Their work focuses on early intervention, providing support, care, and advocacy to promote healthy childhood development.

The Princess of Wales took over the patronage of Action For Children from Queen Elizabeth in December 2016. The charity's goals align with Catherine's work with Early Years.

One of Action for Children's primary area of focus is early intervention and prevention. The charity also prioritizes assistance to children with disabilities and special needs, ensuring inclusivity and equal opportunities. It plays a crucial role in safeguarding at-risk children from abuse and neglect, and they actively work to address youth homelessness.

Through various educational programs, they help enhance opportunities for disadvantaged children and overall well-being. Their vast network of volunteers, staff, and supporters ensured that Action for Children continues to make a positive impact, contributing to a more inclusive and compassionate society for children across the UK.

[howdy-cowpoke]

TIMING: The night of the fire, after everyone else is gone. LOCATION: Prickly Pear Acres PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Kaden (@chasseurdeloup) (feat. Dallas) SUMMARY: The boys deal with the aftermath. Poorly. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

—

The fire had burned itself out. The guests were gone, the paramedics and firefighters and police had left… the place was empty. Charred black, the buildings crumbling in on themselves, the smell of death in the air even more so than usual. Three humanoid figures stood at the edge of the road with a small smattering of animals around them, silent as they tried to process… everything. Dallas stood guard on its opposite side. In his hands were all the makeshift leads they had thrown together for the horses and llama, and at his feet sat the dogs. Philip stuck close to his side as well, bleating every now and then but otherwise behaving. 

Monty and Kaden were on the other side of the road nearest the farm, or what remained of it. Monty was gripping the fence in front of him and staring blankly out at what had once been his home. He’d lost everything. Everyone, damn near. He could still hear Daisy’s laugh from earlier that night, still see Ford’s smiling face and Beth’s bright, youthful eyes. But they were gone. All of them. Whoever had done this had succeeded, and everyone who lived and worked on the farm but himself, Dallas, and Kaden had been murdered. The fire had covered the evidence of this, likely by design. And their own natures prevented them from telling any officials the truth, so an accident it was. An accident. 

Monty’s breath hitched in his throat but his expression was blank. He was still in shock, still stuck in fight or flight mode. He kept waiting for someone to come walking out of the black, ash covered fields… kept straining his eyes and hoping to see Daisy come strolling through the lingering smoke, lifting her hat in a wave. But she didn’t come, of course she didn’t come. She was dead. They were all dead. 

Dallas cleared his throat, walking the animals across the road towards them. “Y’all stay here,” he grumbled. “I’ll go get us a truck n’ a trailer.” There were nearby farms that would help, he knew. They had to get these animals loaded up and taken somewhere. Monty and Kaden could figure that out while he was gone, he surmised. Anyway, they might need some time… alone. Ish. 

—

The night had started to settle. Not in peace, though. It settled like a stain, dark and murky. This night wasn’t as covered in blood as the last time, it was laced with soot instead of iron, but the death was the same. If not worse. 

There was nothing more to do, not immediately, but it was calm all the same. Calm but empty. Kaden felt empty. Like his future had been hollowed out, stolen from him, from Monty, from every single person who had called Prickly Pear their home. It was like a kick in the gut when he realized that there were only three of those people left standing there. There were only three of them that were homeless. The rest were dead.

The rest were dead.

It didn’t feel real. Kaden wanted something more to do, another task, another action to take, a next step. Anything to prolong reality from staining deeper. But Monty had stopped. He was still, clawing onto the fence. Some part of him was afraid that the man would take off running back onto the property, searching for anything left. At the same time, he may have preferred that instead of the stillness. The emptiness.

His hand found Monty’s, laid over top of his on the bit of fence that was left. More felt dangerous, like it could open the floodgates too soon. Only, was it too soon? Was there anything left but the emotions of it all? 

No, there was one more step, one more decision. Where did they go from here? Kaden swallowed, unsure if his voice would work if he tried to speak. “The cabin,” he said, voice croaking. “We could— I still have the cabin.” It was mostly stripped bare, only odds and ends left of his belongings and his cousin’s. The place that was once so full of life and felt almost too small for the three of them when they all lived there was a shell of itself now. 

A shell was better than nothing. 

Manzanita rubbed her head against his side. Putain, that was right. “I’m not sure what to do about the animals, though.” 

—

Monty heard Dallas speaking, understood what he was saying, but didn’t react. Even as the other zombie tied the leads to the fence and started to jog off down the road to the nearest farm, Monty just stood there, staring dead ahead, waiting for something else to happen. 

Kaden’s voice filled the void after Dallas’ steps had retreated into silence. The cabin. He blinked, allowing his thoughts to jump away from the fiery inferno that’d been here hours earlier and instead imagine the cabin he’d been to so many times in the past, now sitting alone and empty in the woods. It was all they had left, wasn’t it? 

“I will build them a shelter,” Monty answered, surprised by the sound of his own voice. He wasn’t even sure if he’d still had one. There was room on the land surrounding the cabin for this. And if he cut down some trees, he could give the horses a large enough paddock for them to exercise freely in. Yes… it would be an undertaking, but he could do it. He could do it quickly, especially since he did not need to sleep. And he needed to. He needed something to keep him from thinking about—

He looked over at Kaden, but his gaze was distant. “When Dallas comes back, we will… load them up.” Monty’s own truck was within their line of sight: it had been moved at some point, by who he wasn’t sure, but he was grateful for that now. Grateful that he always left his keys in the ignition. “Take them there. I will… find a way to build. You have nails, yes? Some tools left over? I will use what we have until morning, then I will go to the hardware store and get more.” It was clear he was avoiding having a conversation about the topic at hand, his gaze wandering and hands fidgeting in front of him. Habanero whinnied softly and the cowboy dropped his gaze to the dirt road beneath their feet as if guilt had overcome him. “I can have it ready in a day or two, I think—and I will make them a paddock, and the dogs can stay inside with us. Philip will probably also prefer to be inside, if that is okay, he’s not usually one to get into trouble—”

—

Kaden was exhausted just listening to Monty’s plans to build a paddock but, if he was being honest, he’d rather throw himself into building alongside his partner rather than sleep. His body had other ideas, however. He was a ranger, not a slayer — he needed a normal amount of sleep, even if he rarely got that. 

He rubbed his palms down his face, almost hoping to see the farm back in place when he could look out across the way again, but it was no use. It was gone. It was really and truly gone. And Monty was running from that fact, seemingly. Not that Kaden could blame him. He didn’t want to face any of this himself and it wasn’t his farm. It wasn’t what he had built over the last five or six years. It had become his home, sure, but it wasn’t the same. 

He wasn’t going to think about how many of his own belongings had gone up in the flames with the rest. He wasn’t sure if he could. Not yet. Hey, at least he still had his family hunter journals back at the cabin, all intact and unburnt. Useful. Just what he needed. 

“Of course he can stay inside. He’s inside the house half the time anyway.” His own words stung. Kaden spoke as if the farmhouse was still standing, that it would be back any minute. Right. “Yeah, there are tools and things. Andy left stuff and I had things from fixing up the cabin. I don’t know if we have lumber but there’s probably enough to get started on.” 

He wanted to take a deep breath, but the thought of filling his lungs with the smoke and death made his stomach churn. So did the idea of lying in the bed in the mostly empty cabin with the dogs and Philip while Monty did his best to make a paddock overnight. “Can you–” He stopped, clamping his jaw shut before he could say something stupid. He wasn’t going to ask Monty to stay still, to help him get to sleep, not tonight. Not yet. Even so, he wondered if the man should be left alone. Kaden didn’t have a solution. Except one. “I’ll help. Much as I can. Maybe just shouldn’t be the one using the saw.” He leaned over, wrapping an arm around the cowboy’s waist, as much to help steady himself as to offer comfort. 

—

The instinct to find work in the face of loss was a trained one. In the days of Hector, there had never been time or space for mourning. If one of them was killed, it almost certainly meant that the law was on their scent, and they needed to pack up and move. Tearing down tents and tables, storing everything back in the caravan and getting the horses hooked up and ready to ride hard for days on end — there was no time. They might recover the bodies if they could, but usually not. Usually there was no sort of burial, no honest goodbye. At most, there’d be a night of drinking in the wake of the death where people would share their favorite memories of the deceased. There was no time for a vigil, no place for an ofrenda. And Monty never usually took part in the drinking. He cared for his found family, he did, but facing their mortality, facing the reality of the life he had been dragged into and had since accepted was often too much for him. So he kept his distance from the bonfires, lingering on the edges of their new campsites to instead tend to the horses and make sure all of the wagons had been properly unloaded. 

He did not handle death well, which was ironic, considering.

But… he had also never really had someone who was going through that death experience with him. The last time their farm had been attacked, Kaden had helped the rest of the farm hands stay up all night while they gathered the dead to bury them. There’d been no complaint or hesitation from any of them, but maybe that strength came from community; from the ceaseless, tireless support of a dozen or more undead people dedicated to the animals they cared for. It was just them now. Just the two of them and Dallas, who had already demonstrated that iron will to get things done even when all you wanted to do was collapse to the ground. Monty had to be strong like that, too, right? He had to keep them moving. But as he looked at Kaden, as he heard the hesitation in the other’s voice and saw how exhausted he appeared, Monty’s resolve began to weaken. Maybe it wasn’t the answer, not now. Not this time. Kaden agreed to help, and the guilt returned. That arm snaked around his waist, and Monty felt something terrible creeping up to the surface. 

“I…” He thought of Dallas, jogging down the road in the dead of night to go bother some poor neighbor and ask them for help. He wondered what the man was thinking, what he was feeling, in the absence of his twin brother. None of them had made it, god, none of them. “No, I… you don’t…” He couldn’t push Kaden like he had always pushed himself. That wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. But he knew what his partner feared, and he couldn’t make him face that alone, either. Monty turned to face Kaden in his grasp, lifting his hands to frame the other’s face. He felt his chest constrict and cave inward as a sob tried to sneak its way out, but the zombie held onto it, briefly closing his eyes in response. “... actually, I think that the horses and llama will be fine hitched outside for one night,” he compromised, afraid of what that meant he was going to have to confront that night. The sooner the better, right? Kaden needed sleep, and sleep was not going to come if they didn’t… talk. Or something. 

He stared up at Kaden for a few seconds longer before pulling the metaphorical pin out of the grenade. “What am I going to do without her?” he asked in a small, trembling voice. It wasn’t a question he expected to have answered, but he needed to speak his despair out into the world. Daisy was gone, and he didn’t know what to do with that. She’d been his rock through everything since arriving in Wicked’s Rest, and she’d helped him become the person he was today. Whenever he didn’t know what to do, he always turned to her. She was his best friend, his most trusted confidant, and she was just… gone. 

His emotions betrayed him, refusing to remain behind bars any longer. The grenade went off, and Monty buried himself in Kaden’s embrace, hugging onto him like he was the last lifeline the zombie had. 

—

“We can make a hitching post quick if we need to. Put up a tarp, maybe.” Kaden was almost certain that Monty would insist on doing it all himself, that he would push the ranger away for the night, keep an arm’s length if only to hold off his own burden of grief. He didn’t know what he would do if his partner tried, if that was the path he wanted to take, but it didn’t matter. The cowboy turned to face him and Kaden knew that the dam was about to break. He wouldn’t call it relief, but something close to it when he recognized that look. It didn’t last past the point that the man in his arms crumbled under the weight of the night. 

Putain, he wished he had an answer for Monty, some sort of salve that could treat the pain that sat deeper, well beyond the surface level burns. What was he going to do without Daisy? Without the farm? Without any of what he’d built? Without his home? He didn’t know. He didn’t know and there was nothing to say that could begin to answer it all. 

The only thing he could do was hold on. He held onto Monty, held him up and held onto the lifeline between them just as tight. Parts of him wanted to collapse, too, to give into it all, but he would save his grief for later if he could. Right now he needed to hold onto his partner as he let the loss around him sink in, his arms wrapped tight around him, fingers combed through his hair as he held on, his body pressed as close as he could. There was no way to keep Monty from falling apart, not after everything that happened, but he wanted to be ready to pick up the pieces best he could. 

It was easier if all he had to focus on was Monty. His loss. His family. His belongings. His animals. It was easier if Kaden didn’t have to acknowledge what had been his own. For now, he just had to hold on. 

—

Grief, Monty discovered, felt very different when you were not shoving it away, masking it and suffering that internal turmoil alone. Standing here, held up by Kaden and loved in a way he’d never been loved before, finally allowing himself to feel what he needed to, he realized why the others in his past life had always shared their grief around the fire and used liquor as a means to help them express themselves. They might not’ve wept into each other’s arms, but they had that sense of camaraderie that Monty had always lacked, had always removed himself from. He’d often felt suffocated by his grief, but the worst had come on that day that Hector turned on him. When all the man could see was a monster, when Monty had no more breath to steal. That had been the worst pain he’d ever felt, and it burrowed in deep. As he fled, first Oaxaca and then the country all together, it had taken root in his heart. It kept him away from people, working to survive but never, ever letting anyone get that close again. Despite not needing to breathe, he’d been suffocating for decades. The grief was ever-present, never leaving him be, never letting him grow beyond it. 

Not until he’d met Daisy. She had recognized that grief, somehow, and carefully weeded it from his chest. Teased it apart until it was a separate thing, a thing he could put in a box and put away for the first time in a century. He owed her for that. He owed her for this life he had now — if not for her, he’d still be a vagabond, drifting aimlessly as he just tried to avoid confronting what had damaged him. But she had made it her mission to course-correct him, and needing someone else to take that sort of control, Monty had allowed it. And he’d flourished, hadn’t he? For a time. Everything he’d just lost was thanks to her. Even the things he hadn’t lost, the person doing his best to be there for Monty while dealing with his own sense of loss, had only ever become more than a casual acquaintance because Monty remembered what Daisy had said to him. You’ve got to start lettin’ people in, sugar. Don’t be afraid. Most of us are real nice, I promise. You meet someone you like because they make you laugh, because you got the same values, or even just cuz they’re cute! You let ‘em in, alright? Try, anyway. For me. And he had. He’d invited Kaden to get coffee with him, because Kaden had somehow managed to do everything Daisy had ever said was worthy of getting to know someone better in a single afternoon. And he was cute. 

He wasn’t suffocating this time, but he felt weak. He wasn’t sure how to climb this mountain, because he’d never really done it before. Kaden had, though. Kaden had lost someone close to him and had come out of it still capable of having love in his heart. So all Monty really knew was that he’d need his partner beside him for this. Without him and without Daisy, he feared he might fall deeper into that canyon where there was no air to breathe, and where no sunlight could reach him. He didn’t want to go back there. 

It was unclear how long they’d been standing there, barely holding themselves together, when the rumble of an engine met their ears. Monty only reacted after Kaden had, lifting his head and swiping a hand over his eyes as he looked down the road to see two headlights coming their way, the sound of the truck followed by the familiar squeak and rattle of a trailer bouncing down an old dirt road. The cowboy sighed with relief, glad to get them all moving again. Lingering here on the edge of the burned out property was getting to be too much. 

The truck came to a stop, and Dallas climbed out of it. Leaving the door open and the engine running, he approached the two with a solemn look on his face. “Y’all take the trailer, I can follow in your truck, boss,” he said, unhitching Habanero from the fence. Monty nodded, looking to Kaden. He wasn’t sure what Dallas wanted to do once everyone was settled, but he wasn’t going to turn the man away. 

—

Kaden didn’t know much, he never claimed to, but he knew that there was nothing that he could say or do to make this better. Nothing could bring back what was lost — who they’d lost. He was familiar with that feeling in a way he wished he wasn’t. Monty should have been an old hat at loss by this point, too. He’d had years and years and though the ranger knew that the cowboy was no stranger to it, it was clear that he’d never suffered anything like this, nothing he’d ever let himself care about this deeply had been stripped away. Kaden knew the man had only opened himself up to living in the world around him within the past few years. Loss didn’t hurt you if you didn’t give yourself anything to lose. He knew that, too. 

The worst part was that Daisy wasn’t supposed to leave. She wasn’t supposed to die. She was supposed to stay long after Kaden was old and gone (well, if he made it to old age, he couldn’t say he really anticipated that). She was exactly who the cowboy needed as a friend and it always brought the hunter some comfort to know that she’d be there once he was gone. Monty wasn’t supposed to be alone. He couldn’t be—

Right, that was right. He wasn’t alone. Not right now. Neither of them were alone even if it probably felt that way. Kaden buried his face in Monty’s hair as he inhaled deep, still catching small scents of leather and hay under all the smoke and ash stinging at his nostrils. Would that be what he always smelled like now? Ash? Would the hay and leather be left in the past?

The smoke must have gotten into his eyes too, leaving them aching as he wiped tears away from them. It was the smoke. He was sure of it. Because it had to be. He had to hold himself together for his partner. Even if it was by a thread, he had to hold on for the rest of the night at the very least. He couldn’t think about how Daisy had always been there, had always been kind and bright, had clearly been the one to push Monty out of his shell and the reason why he was even standing there. He wasn’t going to remember the first football game on the farm when he had Daisy on his team, how she went along with his plan to distract Monty. Putain, he could use a good distraction right about now.

The lights beamed at them from down the road right on cue as Dallas rolled the truck and trailer towards them. Right. Time for the next part of the plan, the next action. He could do that. He gave his partner one last squeeze for good measure before heading over to the truck to help load in the few remaining animals. Some were still panicked and fretting but others were too exhausted by now to even think about panicking.

It was too few. This was too few. Three people and far too few animals. 

Kaden wasn’t going to think about that. Instead he turned to Monty once they were all settled and asked, “You want to drive or should I?” He didn’t know if his partner was up for it but at the same time, he figured concentrating on the road might be a good distraction in the moment. “I don’t mind either way.” 

—

Taro, Manzanita, Habanero, Sellama, Philip, Cinder, and Pomelo. These were all that remained on the side of the road with them: Monty knew that others had run for safety, and he hoped that they would find it. He hoped they would be found by people who would care for them, or at least who would contact Monty to let him know where they were, after he put up signs. But he knew, too, that a large number of prey animals escaping into the woods more likely meant that the predators of those forests would be eating well in the coming weeks. 

He didn’t like thinking about it. 

Clicking his tongue and patting the rear seat of the truck, Monty stepped aside to let Cinder and Pomelo leap up into the cab, then shut the door behind the dogs. Dallas was already in Monty’s truck, turning the engine over and waiting for them to take the lead. Monty looked at Kaden, thinking about his offer, then nodded his head at the driver’s side seat. “You drive,” he said softly, not trusting himself to remember the way even though he had driven that path many times over in the last year. 

The radio was off and the windows down. The dogs lay whimpering and trembling in the backseat, and Monty could hear Philip complaining from the trailer, bleating into the night. The cowboy leaned his head back and closed his eyes, replaying the events of the night in his mind. Running to the stables, flying up the steps of the main house as it burned around him to get the dogs out, standing down at the road with the others when he realized Daisy was not present. He’d tried to go back in after her, but he’d been stopped. At that point, the fire had consumed everything. Whoever was still left on the property was lost, but Monty hadn’t wanted to believe it. He’d fought to get free, to sprint back into the flames himself. He’d screamed her name, but was met with deadly silence. He felt sick. He felt — 

Monty clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might crack a tooth. He wasn’t sure if he felt more forlorn or furious in that moment, the two blending to create an emotion that made it difficult to sit still. He wondered how long he was going to feel like this, swinging wildly between depressed and enraged. 

He wondered if Kaden felt the same. He wondered if Kaden, in those moments of anger, felt like he wanted to go after the people that had done this. 

Monty did. 

—

Kaden nodded and slid into the front seat, hands gripping the steering wheel as he waited for the dogs to tumble into the back. He checked the rear view mirror and saw Shadow was already there curled up before the other two canines had a chance to settle in. In all the chaos and confusion, the one thing he knew was that he didn’t have to worry about his own dog. Whatever part of the anomaly that had given the canine the ability to phase through walls had made him hard to keep track of as a puppy but it was a blessing in instances like this. Putain, he hoped that there wouldn’t be more of this in the future but he was fooling himself if he thought this was the last dangerous situation they’d face in this town. 

The urge to lash out and slam the heel of his hand into the horn swelled through him. But the blaring sound never came. His hands never left the steering wheel except to turn the ignition and put the truck in drive. Kaden couldn’t find the energy to summon any anger, not now. All of his focus was on the path ahead of him, the pavement lit by the headlights as they drove to the cabin. He wanted it to feel like going home; he told himself they were going home. 

It only felt like they were driving away from it. From the ashes that remained. Not enough of them had walked away. 

The white dashes on the road marched along as the truck rolled forward. Kaden watched them, finding a sort of trance in them. He had to. Otherwise he might have to face the death, carry it with him and let it soak in. He would have to face that death found a way of following him, that he never felt like he could find solid ground. No, he wasn’t going to think about that. He was going to simply watch the lines on the road ahead all the way to the cabin.

Once they pulled in and he turned off the truck, he was stuck again. The easy part had passed. The getting from point A to point B. Now they had to deal with the animals. Find what was still there for them in the cabin. Figure out how to sleep (well, at least he had to do that much). It all felt like a fifty meter tall wall staring at him in the face, blocking the way. Getting out of the car would mean he would have to start climbing. 

At least he wasn’t alone. As hollow and empty as it all felt, at least there was that. Kaden reached out and took one of Monty’s cold hands in his own, giving it a squeeze, unsure if it was more for his own sake or his partner’s, a small reminder that they hadn’t lost everything. Even if it felt like damn near close. 

—

All the anger that had been building inside him evaporated once they actually reached the cabin and Kaden took his hand. It looked imposing in the darkness of the hour, standing like a monument to his failure to protect the people he cared about and the home he had built. Here is where mistakes come to fester and rot. Here is where you’ll be reminded every day that you weren’t good enough to keep anyone safe. … It was just a cabin. A cabin he’d had no problem with until now — until their shell shocked crawl had brought them here with nowhere else to go. It was just a cabin that felt like defeat, that looked like remorse, that sounded like recompense as he heard the wind whistling through slightly ajar windows and tall trees creaking overhead once they’d gotten out of the truck. 

It was just a cabin. 

Dallas pulled up beside them, killing the engine and getting out of the truck. He nodded at the pair, then gestured at the cabin. “Go inside,” he told them. “Go rest. I can take care of things out here.” Monty inhaled sharply, ready to tell him absolutely not, but the stern look that flashed across the large man’s face shut him up. “I’ve got it,” Dallas insisted, glancing at the borrowed trailer still packed full of animals. “I’ll get ‘em set up with a place to sleep, boss. Take the dogs, n’ go inside.” Knowing there was no sense in arguing with Dallas once he’d set his mind to something, Monty just nodded and looked to Kaden. He swayed on the spot for a moment before reaching for his hand again, giving him a gentle tug toward the front door of the cabin. Dallas stood quietly in the dark for a few moments before beginning his inspection of the property, flashlight in hand as he hunted for the best place to build a crude shelter. 

Three dogs in tow, the couple ascended the steps on the porch and made their way into the house. It felt cold, even though Monty couldn’t really sense such things. His gaze drifted to the staircase that led up to the place Kaden used to sleep, when his cousins were here. How badly Monty wished for their bright, comforting presence now. The dogs were already milling about, sniffing everything as they toured the inside of the house like it was the first time they’d been here. Monty came to a stop in the living room, letting out a shuddering sigh. He could hear Dallas outside, encountering the shed where Andy’s woodworking supplies had been left. He should have had everything he needed for the task at hand, though that did little to assuage Monty’s guilt. He should be helping. He should be doing something, not just standing here. 

But Kaden needed rest. He needed sleep, if it would come. And Monty couldn’t just abandon him. “So… what comes first?”

[teenageread]

Review: Fablehaven

Synopsis:

For centuries mystical creatures of all description were gathered into a hidden refuge called Fablehaven to prevent their extinction. The sanctuary survives today as one of the last strongholds of true magic. Enchanting? Absolutely. Exciting? You bet. Safe? Well, actually, quite the opposite.

Kendra and her brother, Seth, have no idea that their grandfather is the current caretaker of Fablehaven. Inside the gated woods, ancient laws keep relative order among greedy trolls, mischievous satyrs, plotting witches, spiteful imps, and jealous fairies. However, when the rules get broken -- Seth is a bit too curious and reckless for his own good -- powerful forces of evil are unleashed, and Kendra and her brother face the greatest challenge of their lives. To save their family, Fablehaven, and perhaps even the world, Kendra and Seth must find the courage to do what they fear most.

Plot:

It was the unexpected death of their mother’s parents that led Seth and Kendra to spend two weeks with their father’s parents on their estate in Connecticut. Grandpa Sorenson gave his grandchildren two rules to follow, to stay out of the woods and the barn and gave the children access to the entire yard, a playroom, pool, a perfect way to spend the seventeen days. Curious and adventurous, Seth went into the woods and found an old homeless woman living in a shack, inviting him in for tea. With butterflies and ladybugs obsessed with mirrors, and farmhand Dale leaving out milk for them, Kendra and Seth knew something was amiss with their grandparent's estate. Drinking the milk, Kendra and Seth were able to see the butterflies as they truly are: fairies and the old woman in the woods was actually a witch punished for her wrongdoings. The siblings found themselves in Fablehaven, an ancient reserve for magical creatures that Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson are the caretakers of. Not understanding all the rules, Seth and Kendra find themself in trouble in Fablehaven, with the powerful night of the year Midsummer Eve coming up, the siblings must work together to fix the aftermath of the terrible night, save their family, and come to terms with their adventures at Fablehaven are just starting. 

Thoughts: 

Brandon Mull introduces us to Fablehaven in this incredible, action pack novel. Taken from the third-person point of view of Kendra and Seth, we follow this sibling pair around Fablehaven as they begin to discover all the magical things this land has in store for them. Kendra, the oldest, is a great character, with a good head on her shoulders she is thoughtful but cautious of what is around her. Yet, when times are tough, Mull shows character development as Kendra chooses bravery to help her family. Seth, to me, was a less likable character due to his sheer amount of stupidity throughout the novel. With him, in the beginning, choosing defiance by going into the woods, their only rule, Seth had the bravery and courage that Kendra lacked. Yet, unlike Kendra who learns to be brave, Seth never learns to be throughout, constantly breaking the rules and getting himself and others in trouble. Sure, his actions were meant for good, and he did not realize the harm he was causing, Seth's youthfulness made him a bit of a drag in the story, especially as Mull did not give him the character development they did for Kendra. Besides our siblings, other characters play a side role, likable enough like Lena, Dale, and even Maddox, but they did not play a huge role in character development or plot advancement. This novel felt very much like the start of what will be a large series, with Mull hinting at other things such as other sanctuaries, The Society of the Evening Star, and Kendra’s and Seth’s future role as possible caretakers of Fablehaven. With easy writing and tons of plot action, this is a fine book for younger readers and those looking for a fantasy fix.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[bonny-kookoo]

hi bonny first off i wanna say i love your fics. as a black reader i dont feel unsafe at the moment and would really love to stick around cuz your writing is compelling.

while i do believe fic is a free for all, i do think a police fic would attract a certain demographic into your audience making it unwelcoming to your poc readers.

you already have someone reblogging under the other anons post spouting dog whistles.

personally i’d have no problem with a “police” fic IF it wasnt taking inspiration from the CURRENT JUSTICE SYSTEM AND POLICING OF TODAY.

you could write about how you’d see crime handled in a way thats makes sure that perpetrators get to court alive to have a fair trial or even preventative measures within the community jungkook could take to ensure that someone never feels the need to turn to crime.

it could be cool to visualize jungkook as like a community policer. they usually live in the neighborhood and work with their neighbors to watch out for each other. you could create your own system of how they handle punishment.

you could have a tasks force but they dont use guns. and they dont use excessive force.

they could try deescalation tactics like talking.

you could have jungkook on a crime scene making sure that ALL evidence is collected, briberies arent happening, and he’s checking his peers when they might have messed up.

you could include advanced futuristic technology that makes sure that a suspect is being rightfully accused to avoid false accusations.

because the system is under such careful surveillance unlike OUR CURRENT SYSTEM, you could write about how heinous crimes are punishable by death or maybe even exile to some other planet

jungkook could be seen doing charity drives like handing food to the homeless and back to school/supply handouts.

he could even be featured playing with youth in the community. like basketball on the court or sitting down and talking to them to see if things are good at school and home.

there’s ways to showcase him as an actual protector of citizens.

you could show him outside work too being a pillar, like maybe he goes to city hall meeting and advocates for social changes. like transportation, shelters, and livable wages.

imagining a better tomorrow where you have the creative freedom to imagine how you’d go about changing the system could be more FUN creatively cuz the possibilities are endless rather than having him abuse his power and hurt people.

hope that helps💜

I mean, yeah, that would've been my actual goal, I didn't think people would feel like I would write it in a way that would make people feel upset :/ That's why I wanted to maybe make it a 'fantasy'-esque hybrid or Alien fic to kind of.. take away the 'reality' connection from it? I don't know.

I write fics to give people a way to escape the troubles they have daily, so they can daydream about a world where things are better, true love is a thing, and happy endings are the norm. I know I'm not always hitting the nail with that attempt, clearly, if people instantly thought that I would not do well in creating an Alternate Universe where things would be better. I don't know. I'm currently feeling a little weird about everything I wrote now, like, I'm questioning what exactly caused it. Was it the way I wrote my hybrid fics? Or how I buit my Alien universes? Did I unintentionally make people feel unwelcome/uncomfortable? I don't know anymore.

I try to not make specifics about skin color/hair length/eye color or whatnot in my fics to try and keep it open as possible, and I know I don't do that well sometimes, since there's a limit to what I can properly write- which is why I don't write tall characters, male readers, or specifically poc's- because I cannot and will never be able to properly portray that. I'm not a professional writer, this is just a hobby, and maybe I need to, I don't know, educate myself more to make sure that in the future, my works don't make anyone feel excluded or upset in general. I'm sorry if that was the case in any of my works.

[thewales-family]

The Prince of Wales visits Reach Up Youth at the Verdon Recreation Centre to learn how grassroots sports can connect young people with their communities and boost peer support to prevent homelessness, as he launches his project Homewards, a five-year programme delivered by the Royal Foundation, which will aim to demonstrate the possibility of ending homelessness, in Sheffield, England -June 27th 2023.