#singlet author

[0ruka]

Grietas en la superficie

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42433731

Summary:

Marc junto a otros compañeros son asignados a una misión concretada por Bushman con un rico hombre de negocios.

Deben asaltar un convoy de armas y secuestrar al mercader que viaja ahí.

Pero que pasa cuando las cosas se complican en el camino?

Que pasa con Marc durante esas 3 horas luchando por sobrevivir hasta cumplir la misión con su equipo?

Warning:  Violencia gráfica, abuso físico/verbal infantil 

Word Count:  5,634

[izzytheace]

Cavendish is my specialist little princess I love him. My comfort badly written system with a murder alter

[clay-pidgeon]

you know when youre reading fanfic about a character and theyre one of those characters where theyre just straight up "Other guy(s) in my me" canonically plural but like. On accident because theres 10 billion characters like that and youre like lalalala i read my fanfiction ^_^ and sometimes you come across some bits where its like okayyy thats a little bit multiple but in the same way as canon and then you hit a Line and this Line would be so insanely empowering cut-to-your-heart "this is exactly what its like, holy shit" accurate but like. They dont even know

[circulars-singlet]

what’s the most surprising or hard to adjust to thing related to systemhood for the systems you’ve met? doesn’t have to be a specific to each one, just in general

That's honestly hard to answer. Currently there's nothing that's hard to adjust to. I take everything kind of in stride. I guess I was surprised by how often my one friend switches but that's more so because I'm used to my partner who takes a day or more to switch. Never more than twice a day much less than ten times a day. Finding out a person is a system really doesn't change anything for me. At this point I assume that everyone I meet has their own brand of mental fuckery going on and so treat them as I would literally anyone else. Does it give me more context? Yeah for sure. Bitch about your shitty childhood to me, I'm all ears. Really it's such a non issue.

There were two key moments for me while dating Circ though. Actually I think that might have been what you were asking.

The first one was the fucking systemhood in the first place.

We were roommates in college and best friends, but it still took almost two years before they told me about having DID. They also told me with a mutual friend in the room who already knew for support. Honestly, my first thought was fucking "sounds fake but okay." They way they described it was so fucking wild to me and definitely didn't sound like a real thing. I froze for a second because I didn't know what to say. I remember thinking, fuck how do I respond to this? Should I console them? Should I say it's not a big deal? I don't want them to think I don't care about them though. I don't want them to feel like I'm belittling them. How do I not hurt their feelings? All that came out apparently was "oh cool." That apparently went over well so I was so fucking relieved that I said the right thing. The next steps were easy though. I listened. They told me about their experiences. The best part of this though is that my partner said they were """"""fully integrated"""""" (despite still fucking switching lmao). And guess what? I was fucking disappointed because I DIDN'T GET TO MEET ANYONE ELSE! I was so bummed out. And guess how much of this I told my partner at the time? None of it. That was shit they did NOT need to hear. It was my job to process that and figure my shit out. I didn't want them to experience any of that negativity. So I guess that was my biggest adjustment? Just, "fuck my crush just told me they have this mental shit that sounds so stupid, guess I'll continue to love them and support them in anyway possible I guess."

The second one was about interjects. I'd say this happened like 3 or 4 years into our relationship.

I had obviously been learning about DID and listening to my partner talk about DID things. And one of those things they mentioned was what interjects were. Which, again, sounded fake as hell and stupid as fuck. I shrugged it off because people be weird like that, until my partner told me they split an interject. One from a book we've both read. So I quickly had to start adjusting real fast. I asked a ton of questions and listened a whole bunch. We worked through trauma shit. And I got over myself.

It's not my place to judge someone's mental state. It's not my place to figure out if it's real or fake or just pretend. How would that help anyone, really? It's my job to figure out my shit and be a positive support to the person who trusted me with a vulnerable confession.

Everyone deserves love and respect <3

Mush

[chocoboparty]

if you are not system you do not get to perpetuate misinformation you do not get to speak on system related topics you do not get to make information pictures about system because you are not systems you are not resource you are not someone who should be putting two cents in because you are not a system

[chalkeater]

One theory about that time I hear was that, like Undertale, Deltarune was set some time in the future. One argument for this is that nobody seems to comment on the high level of technology in the dark world. Noelle even mentions that Dess said she would take Noelle to a big city like cyber world. If it is like Undertale then the reason why nobody in hometown seems to have hugely futuristic technology is simply because it's an isolated town and, like Papyrus' room in Snowdin, has old computers and out of date technology. Additionally, a lot of the high level of technology seen in Hotland is known to be some of the best technology around, which is why there are lasers and talking robot. A similar level of technology is seen in Cyber City so maybe cities in Deltarune do have a similarly advanced level of technology, hence the complete lack of surprise from anyone to the city.

THAT'S SO TRUE THAT'S SO TRUE. But I don't think it's set in the future I think it IS meant to be set in maybe the same time as THIS world / real life. this is actually the theory I'm guessing is what's most likely going on. it's 2022 but there's a town where everything isn't as updated

When it comes to futuristic stuff in UT and DR we have to take into consideration that Undertale has magic involved and the Dark World HAS magic involved as well. It's already confirmed that the dark world is curated and tailor made according to the people it's for/made from and the environment it's set in. See: Closet = Dark and cozy and can house anyone Castle Town. Computer Lab = Sci-fi Futuristic and FAST Cyber World. Noelle and Berdly think that it's a dream- Susie (myself?? crazy to say my name in third person) already ran around Castle Town and the Boardgame World so she/I would already have an idea of how crazy it can get. + Too busy trying to rescue a girl COUGH COUGH. If I had time I would go back and start analyzing the dialogue text

Back to Hometown being isolated = slower evolution of technology. think about it. In a way monsters and humans probably still have some.. prejudices going on? Why else would monsters have their own community where even they feel in awe in being around a human. That is for sure isolated.

I mentioned it in the previous ask something like "it does take place in 202X but something is going on where Hometown isn't as up to date with technology" is one of the alternatives I was thinking of. Maybe Hometown even has its own internet service provider and all these sites truly are monster-originated.

Man this really brings us back to chapter 1 where people were figuring out that things aren't necessarily the best in-universe. Because talking about all this isolation implies a lot for what things mean in-universe.

[mostcertainlynotcis]

this sucks so fucking bad an author i liked reblogged some anti endo shit and i had to block them. how the fuck are we spreading information we're literally just EXISTING. fuck off

[puppeteered-poetry]

(wants to join in a conversation about me and host but we are just the most cliche Jekyll and Hyde shit and it's fucking EMBARRASSING.)

[bastard-coatedbastards]

Fuck "medically recognized" I'm recognized by a therapist who understands the sheer horrors of crapitalism and bitches with me about all the paperwork he has to do because of structural bullshit and that's more healing than just any random psych

[writers-weekly-words]

Singlet

//noun//

Definition:

1. a sleeveless garment worn under or instead of a shirt.

2. a single unresolvable line in a spectrum, not part of a multiplet.

[0ruka]

Cracked Surfaces

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42438447 

Summary:

Marc and other companions are assigned to a mission arranged by Bushman with a wealthy businessman.

They are tasked to raid a convoy and kidnap the merchant traveling in it.

But what happens when things go south?

What happens to Marc during those 3 hours struggling to survive until the mission is accomplished with his team?

Warning:  Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Physical/verbal child abuse 

Word Count:   5784

[canis-dies]

boys when

[deadeyedfae]

Plural Systems! This is a comic for my plural friends and i hope it helps any singlets reading understand a little more about them ^^ for the record I'm not plural, im not an authority on the subject but I'm trying my best to learn more and wanted to share!

I had some help on this one from @welldrawnfish and @ralathehuntress

This whole comic came from someone in our community that im very close with but im not sure if they have officially stated they are Plural here so ill not tag them, needless to say if it wasn't for them and thier amaizng headmates i couldn't have made this comic, thier experiences have helped me understand a whole other type of experience in a way that im sure i wouldn't have been able to understand without them!

❤️💜💖💚💙💛

[babybluebex]

looking | joseph quinn x reader

summary: joe catches you looking and rewards (punishes?) you for your efforts pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: smut (MINORS DNI), squirting, oral (m! and f!receiving), mostly dom!joe but surprise sub!joe at the end, praise kink, no condom, creampie, cockwarming author's note: yes i have a lecture this morning. yes i am writing this at work. no i will not apologize. enjoy <3 // follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new story! (also big ole thanks to @freckledjoes for making this gif for me!! thanks a bunch!)

You heard his feet on the landing of the stairs, and then gentle padding as his bare feet sounded on the carpeted hallway as he made his way to the bedroom. These nights were your favorite— Joseph had made you dinner, cheesy pasta with garlic bread, then you had watched an episode of Succession before getting ready for bed. You could tell that Joe was in a sort of mood that night, the kind of mood where he lit a candle at dinner and kissed you and put on Al Green on his record player. He had asked if you wanted to join him in the shower, but you had declined; you had work in the morning, and a randy shower didn't exactly entail an early sleep.

But then, he rounded the corner and darkened the doorway, and you gulped. He looked good; wet curls on his forehead, singlet covering his beefy build, and those underwear, clinging to every curve just right. And he didn't even seem like he knew what he was doing. Joe rubbed his hair dry on his towel as he came into the bedroom, and he went to his dresser, rooting through the top drawer for some pajama bottoms. The silence was deafening, and damning, because Joe turned to you with an amused look on his face.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked. "Cat got your tongue?" He added a dramatic pout to his plush lips, and, fuck, you just had to kiss him.

"You just look really good," you said softly. "Can't I just look at you?"

"Oh, you want to look?" Joe asked teasingly. Oh. So he was in that sort of mood. "I thought it was rude to stare."

"I'm not staring," you told him. "I'm... Appreciating. Admiring."

"Admiring, eh?" Joe laughed. "What exactly are you admiring?"

"Well..." you started, holding out your hand and tracing the shape of his body in the air. He was certified grade A beef that day, finally having regained the weight he had lost to play Eddie, and you loved his plush hips and thick thighs. "And..." You made a cupping motion with your hand, and Joe let out a sputtered laugh.

"So you're staring at my dick," Joe said, shaking his head mirthfully. "I knew I was nothing but a piece of meat to you."

"No!" you exclaimed. Even though you knew he was joking, you didn't want him to think you were doing that for even a second. "I'm just... You just... Y'know? Just admiring every part of you."

"You're drooling," Joe cajoled. He hung his towel on the back of the door and made his way to the bed, and you watched as he grew closer, finally until he was lingering right next to you, his cloth-covered dick inches from your face. God, he smelled so good, you just wanted to take him then and there.

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through your eyelashes to see his reaction, and you were overjoyed to see him slowly close his eyes and take a deep breath. "You gonna suck it or what?" he asked in a low voice, and the hot pressure of need slammed inside you belly. You loved when he got like this.

You readjusted yourself in bed, sitting on your knees to reach him properly, and you tugged him forward by his hips to get him closer. Carefully, you pulled down those black briefs, and his half-hard cock spilled forward. He was thick and heavy, beautiful, and you chuckled lightly at the sight before you. "You trimmed," you giggled, and Joe peeked his eyes open.

"Is that a crime?" he asked, and you slid your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your nails up.

"No," you said. "I just like your bush."

Joe shrugged. "I'll grow it back out," he said. His hand smoothed your hair back, gathering it all up in a loose grip before he flattened his palm against the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You put an end to your games then, taking the head of his uncut cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, just enough to give him a little bit of pressure. Joe made a quiet noise, a sort of hum of appreciation, and you took him further into your mouth. He tasted good, musky but clean, and you moaned around him as your tongue lavished the thick vein that ran along the bottom of his cock.

"That's it," Joe whispered. "What a good girl... You love sucking my cock, don't you?"

You fluttered your eyelashes at him as an answer and took him deeper, then pulled back and suckled at his head for a moment, just to get a reaction out of him. His hand gripped your hair as he moaned, and he gritted his teeth. "Fuck," he whispered. "I knew you liked what you saw."

You pulled off of him with a gasping breath, letting your hand stroke him from balls to tip. "Did you do it on purpose?" you asked.

"Do what?"

"Dress like this," you asked. "Look so goddamn delicious. You know I can hardly resist you."

"That was the plan," Joe admitted. His stomach flexed when you reached up to cup his balls, and you leaned back in, sucking him down again. You didn't usually like giving blowjobs— you hardly ever went down on past boyfriends— but there was something special about Joe that made you want to swallow down his cock every single day, no matter what. "God, you look so hot like this, darling. Love watching you like this."

You moaned softly, then broke away from him, panting to try to regain the breath that sucking him off has made you lose. Joe didn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you, holding your face as his tongue swirled in your mouth, tasting himself off of you. You scrambled backwards to lay on your back, and you tugged Joe in by his shirt, urging him to lay on top of you. He did exactly as you expected, following you and nudging your legs open as he messily kissed you, and he broke the kiss to look down at you. Panties and a t-shirt (his t-shirt), nothing else.

"Fuck," Joe whispered, and he chuckled. His eyes were stuck on your covered pussy, and he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue when he spotted the damp patch on your panties. "Is this all for me?"

"Yeah," you told him. "F'course it is."

"Jesus, I'm a spoiled man," Joe whispered, kissing you deeply again. His hands scrambled to tug down your panties and expose you to him, and his greedy eyes watched as you opened your legs for him, showing him your wet pussy. Your blood was thrumming in every vein with desire, you needed him so badly, and he flicked his eyes up to yours, those lips of his falling open gently. He kissed you once more, then leaned down to kiss your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before trailing his kisses downwards. Ever downwards he ventured, until his warm breath was fanning across your cunt, and he did not waste any time before he licked at you.

The stubble on his chin and cheeks roughed up your thighs as he ate you out like he had never learned how to do anything else. He sucked at your quivering clit and made you cry out in pleasure, his tongue danced on your hole, he even added his fingers to help open you up. By the time the knot in your belly was straining, he was sucking lewdly and shaking his head, making sure that you felt every inch of his fingers and tongue on you. It was so good, it felt so fucking amazing, and you let the knot snap and come undone. You grabbed hard at Joe's hair and almost cried as you came on his fingers; it just felt so fucking good.

"Jesus!" Joe laughed, and you panted as you looked down at him. Something wet was in his beard, and you laughed when you realized that it wasn't just your regular juices. "Good fucking girl, do that again, baby."

"I-I didn't even know I could do that," you laughed breathlessly, letting your head fall back. Joe wasted no time in pushing his fingers back into you, thrusting hard into you and making your toes curl with the sensitivity, and you yelped when the sudden knot burst again, and you were able to watch this time as you squirted quickly on Joe's face. He seemed to love it, smiling up at you and panting, and he pulled out his soaked fingers. He looked at them in awe, wet and glistening, before he touched them to his lips, licking them clean.

You leaned up and stripped off your shirt, and you reached out for him, pulling his hips between your legs again as you shoved his singlet over his head. You discarded it across the room before you kissed him again, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he didn't wait a single second before he grasped his cock and pushed inside you. You were so fucking sensitive from cumming so hard, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders as he instantly started up a pace. He was quick, thrusting messily into you and holding down your hips to keep you where he wanted you, and you hid yourself in his neck. Jesus, he was insatiable tonight; he had made you fucking squirt, and now he was fucking you so hard that you were worried you two might break the bed.

"Baby," you whispered in his ear. "Easy, honey, we have all night."

"I almost came when you squirted," Joe told you. "Fuck me, I'm so close already. Let me cum, and then we can go slower and nicer, but, right now, I need to— Fuck!"

His cock throbbed inside you as he fucked you, and you knew that he was right. He was dangerously close to his release, and you to yours, and you could have sworn that you heard him whimper when you clenched down on him, tightening around his cock.

"Please, baby," Joe whispered. "Let me cum inside you, please, fuck, I need it."

"Fuck, yeah," you breathed. "Cum inside me, please."

Joe's nails dug into the flesh of your hip, and you gasped as Joe moaned deeply, and he filled you. You could feel it inside you, so much thick cum— your poor boy really needed to cum. He moaned in your ear and panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath, and you pulled yourself from his neck to smile hazily up at him. "Was it good?" Joe asked, and you chuckled, brushing back his curls.

"Yes, my love," you told him. "So good. I didn't know I could squirt, that was interesting."

"A surprise, for sure," Joe laughed. "But it was hot. Can you do it again?"

"I don't know how I did it the first time," you chuckled. "I don't know if I can do it again."

Joe huffed out a laugh, and he leaned up on his elbows, rocking his hips into you again. Your nerves were so scorched and sensitive that you instantly let out a yelp, and Joe said, "Well, let's see."

[justlin22]

Doctor's Appointment

Dr. Zayne x Reader (Post Breakup)

_________________________

He broke up with you, and it cut deep. The Chief Surgeon of AKSO shattered your heart—the very heart he once swore to protect with every fibre of his being. How dare he pull the trigger and claim defeat in his own battlefield? He had no right to raise the white flag after only two years. But today, you had to face the man who was once the alpha in your eyes but had now fallen from grace. Today was your annual check-up with your primary physician, Dr. Zayne himself.

It was almost laughable that the one who saved your heart had also broken it, and now he was the one trying to piece it back together. You entered his office with your medical report in hand, wearing your usual hunter uniform and your pride—what little remained. Your eyes met his, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You managed a faint smile before sitting in the hot seat by his desk. A swirl of emotions—sadness, anger, a sliver of something else—tightened in your chest. You didn’t know which would surface before his ever-cold demeanour.

As you passed his desk, he held his usual stoic expression. You nearly gagged at the sight of that mask, knowing all too well what lay beneath. He was surely thrilled to see you again, despite his façade. Meeting your gaze again must have cost him less pride than breaking it. "Asshole," you muttered in your head.

"Sit," he ordered, gesturing to the chair beside his desk.

The command struck a nerve. Your heart burned. Even now, he wielded authority over you like you were a child. You bit your tongue, determined not to lose your composure, and sat.

He picked up your medical report, flipping through the notes slowly, as if savouring each moment. It felt like an eternity beside him. You caught him stealing glances at you. By now, you were sure he had some inappropriate thoughts running through that handsome head of his. His legs shifted restlessly—left, right, up, down. You rolled your eyes.

He placed the stethoscope around his neck and rolled his chair closer, closing the distance to check your heart. “I need to listen,” he said, his tone steady. You unbutton your shirt, revealing the singlet underneath, your skin exposed for his assessment. The cold steel of the stethoscope grazed your skin, and your breath hitched. His grip on the stethoscope tightened slightly, betraying the struggle beneath his composed exterior. His head hovered near your chest, and he didn’t dare to look up. You glanced down at him and felt a wave of disgust at the sight you once loved. You could almost hear his heartbeat, quickening in his chest. Your presence alone was enough to make this man weak, lost in his own recollection of claiming your body. He lingered longer than necessary, listening to your heartbeat as if savouring a forbidden memory.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he ordered, his voice controlled, masking the turmoil within. His composure grated on your nerves. How dare he hide so well behind that calm exterior? You wanted nothing more than to tear down that facade, to force him to reveal his real emotions, raw and unguarded. 

A swirl of thoughts danced in your mind: Should you tease him, test his restraint? Remain passive, letting him lead this unsettling encounter? Or push back, confront him with aggression? You decided to bide your time, choosing submission—for now. Let him think he's in control. You would watch his every move, every flicker of emotion that slipped through his carefully maintained mask, ready to act when the moment was right.

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling under his gaze. His eyes remained fixed, but you caught the slight bob of his Adam's apple, betraying a crack in his stoic demeanour. Slowly, he moved the stethoscope across your chest, and the brush of his fingertips grazed your skin in between. His breath, warm and uneven, fanned across your exposed skin. It was a subtle but deliberate move, one that did not go unnoticed. A sly tactic indeed.

“Take another deep breath for me,” he commanded, his voice low and steady. His head hovered even closer to your chest, so near it felt as though he wanted to press his ear directly against your skin. You obliged, drawing in a deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. As you inhaled, his hand slid to your back, as if to steady your posture, a gesture that felt far too intimate.

You rolled your eyes, a wave of disgust washing over you at the sensation of his touch and the warmth of his hand. The very closeness that once made your heart race now left you cold, reminding you of the betrayal hidden beneath his stoic exterior.

Satisfied with what he heard, he leaned back and removed the stethoscope from his ears, placing it on the table with deliberate slowness. He picked up your medical report and began jotting down notes, his eyes flicking up to steal glances at you—as if he were checking for any reaction, searching for a crack in your composure. Each lingering look felt like a probing question, a silent dare, and it sent a cold shiver coursing down your spine, spreading to your feet. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken words and the tension that hung between you both.

“Your arm, please,” he commanded, his voice steady yet with an underlying tension. You rolled up the sleeve of your shirt and extended your arm toward his desk. Before you could place it down, his hand captured your arm, holding it with a firm, possessive grip. His other hand moved slowly, fingertips brushing along the veins, lingering as if savouring the feel of your skin. His touch wasn’t hurried or clinical; it was deliberate, exploring more than necessary, sending a ripple of unease up your spine. It was as if he were trying to sense more than just your heartbeat—searching for a reaction, a sign of what you might be feeling beneath the surface.

You shot him a cold, unyielding stare—the classic resting bitch face—making it clear you were unamused by his touch. It was as if you had erased all memory of his warmth, every tender moment now buried under layers of indifference. You refused to give him what he seemed to crave—a reaction, a sign that his touch still had any effect on you. Instead, you held your ground, your expression hardened, denying him the satisfaction of knowing he could still stir something within you.

After the checkup, he jotted down notes on your medical report, but you could feel his eyes on you—stealing glances, more frequent and lingering than before. It was clear he was unsatisfied, frustrated even, by your lack of response to his lingering, intimate touches. His demeanour remained controlled, but there was a hint of irritation in his movements as he began to ask you a series of questions, more than he would normally ask.

“Did you get enough rest?” he asked, his tone almost demanding. You nodded, keeping your expression neutral, not even granting him the satisfaction of hearing your voice.

“Are you eating properly, following the recommended diet?” Another nod, your silence growing louder with each question.

“Are you getting regular exercise?” Yet another nod.

“Have you experienced any uneasiness with your heart?” he pressed, watching you closely. You shook your head, giving nothing away.

Each answer was brief, a nod or a shake of your head—never a word. You refused to give him what he seemed to want: a reaction, a sound, anything that might break the cold, impassable wall you'd put up. His questions seemed to dig for something deeper, but you kept your responses simple and detached, denying him even the chance to hear your voice.

He set his pen down, visibly unsatisfied with your responses, even though you had answered everything. His frustration was palpable, his eyes narrowing slightly as if recalculating his approach. Without a word, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small flashlight, turning back to you with a determined look.

“I need to check your eyes,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something more—a persistence that felt almost too personal.

He rolled his chair forward swiftly, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand cupped your left cheek, his thumb gently brushing the skin beneath your eye with an unexpected tenderness. His touch lingered, and your eyes met his. His face was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. In his green eyes, you caught a swirl of conflicting emotions—sadness, longing, desire, and regret—a vulnerable mix you rarely saw from him.

For a moment, it felt like words failed him; his gaze bore into yours, searching desperately for any flicker of emotion, any sign that you felt something too. His hold was firm yet uncertain, as if he were balancing on the edge of a precipice, waiting for you to either push him over or pull him back. His need for a reaction was almost tangible, the air thick with tension as he tried to read what was hidden behind your guarded eyes.

Your lips hovered near his, close enough to feel the heat between you. Then, in a heartbeat, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. It was intense and raw, a kiss that poured out everything he couldn't say—his longing, his regret, his unspoken desire.

[sophieinwonderland]

"Why aren't we seeing widespread plural acceptance yet?"

Guys... for thousands of years, plurals have kept completely to ourselves out of fear of being tortured for demonic possession or locked away in insane asylums.

The first plural communities and the term "plural" itself in reference to multiple agents in one body didn't start until the 90s.

The communities were largely hidden away, not interacting with most of the mainstream internet until the early 2010s.

The first studies into the plural community didn't start until the back half of the 2010s.

Pluralkit wasn't made until 2018, and many singlet-run servers have already adopted it to make their spaces more accepting of systems.

The Plural Association wasn't founded until 2020, just 4 years ago.

2023, this year, saw the very first time a system's system name, "The Redwoods," was used as the authors of an academic paper. Something that I hope, while remarkable now, can become the norm.

Yes, acceptance is slow. It can be hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel sometimes. It can be hard to recognize history as it's happening. But make no mistake, history IS happening. Progress is being made.

We've hit some major milestones in a relatively short time and this is only the beginning!