ㅤ
ㅤㅤ ╱... latent summons unriddles, enticing essences through epochs who aspire to be involved in sonorous of hearthside snugness. tacit conjuration resounds through the environs we dwell—summoning clasp the ethos of congenial coexistence, establish unions that beyond prosaic, and etch our idiosyncratic chronicles of warmth and kinship.

for those congruence with the familial bonds and the bewitchment intricately embroidered into the quotidien fabric, with ardency and fervency, we proffer this invocation and rally portrayers born between 1992—1995 for AUNTS and UNCLES, and those born between 1996—2010 for SONS and DAUGHTERS, to unite with us and manage a conserve sandwich jointly! we raise a toast, "come join us!"—make sure your muse isn't on the taken list (https://t.me/pendledossier/322). succinct exclamation to commence this communal sojourn where the quintessence of family resides not solely in abode, yet within the conjoint saga of life's escapades awaiting revelation.

ㅤㅤ ⓘ ... inclusion questionnaire: "salute, pendleton! hailing the kick-off of the foremost member initiation, i, @USERNAME the chiaroscurist of MUSE NAME, am primed to inaugurate the examination to be part of pendleton and concoct marmalde-filled sandwich delicacies!" presented to; @thependlebot.

ㅤㅤㅤregards, @thependleton.
ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
       𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘
ㅤㅤ 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗨𝗠𝗡 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪.  

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ✼ 𝟖 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭.

Not empty, not cold—ㅤㅤbut full of stories untold,
of names we hope toㅤㅤcall, of homes we have
yet to find. In the rustleㅤof leaves ('&) the fading
warmth of the sun,ㅤㅤㅤ I find myself longing —
not for a place, but forㅤ people. For voices that
greet with care. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ For hands that stay.

         For a family that feels
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlike shelter.  This letter is
ㅤㅤㅤ for you,  who  might        
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ be   willing ㅤto  stayㅤ  who         
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤknows      howㅤ to ㅤ listen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Who has space in their heart to become
ㅤㅤㅤㅤsomething to someone. We are in search
ㅤㅤㅤ of a family — not perfect, but present. One
ㅤㅤㅤ that grows together, laughs softly, forgives
ㅤㅤㅤㅤoften. A place where roles are more than
ㅤㅤㅤㅤnames, through days both easy and hard.

If you are between the years: Parental Figure (1981—1995), Aunty & Uncle (1996—1999), Oldest Child (2000—2002), Middle (2003—2005), Youngest (2006—2010). Then perhaps we are meant to meet here, in this season of stillness and hope.

Greetings! I come as (Name, Muse, Line, @Username) willing to fill the position as “Parents/Aunty/Uncle/Oldest/Middle/Youngest” ready to take part in a family where presence matters more than perfection. Let this be the start of something meaningful. Thank you!

Please visit @DelaireBot to see the TAKEN LIST. We only welcome those who truly seek connection— not those who come with false names, split hearts, or uncertain intentions.
ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ May
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ🍁 autumn
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ guide us home.

Warm regards,
POCKET OF DIARY
        —THE DELAIRE ’s.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVARNISHED OF MEMORY
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(9th)  :  Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?

It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @TheRedfern, @blissette, and @SerenityOfEnami who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.

Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht