#or actually let it show

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @ourfuturedays-tlouzine! I have only borrowed character names from the second game, and nothing else from there exists.

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Twenty-four. Ellie rolled the number in her head. She’d slept for more than twenty-four hours once. She’d spent twenty-four days hiding in the woods. She had walked twenty-four miles, killed twenty-four bandits, and cooked twenty-four meals.

And now, she had reached twenty-four years old.

In all honesty, she had never expected to make it to eighteen, let alone twenty-four. Between desperate bandits and plant monsters, her best hopes for the future were to die painlessly in a ditch. Instead, she was now trekking across the forest in the spring, shouldering the weight of a deer as she headed home.

Ellie grunted as she adjusted the pole digging into her shoulders. When she was younger, she could only handle hunting raccoons and their ilk. Now she was taller, stronger, and the weight of a deer’s limp carcass wasn’t the impossible burden it had once been.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel commented behind her, his calloused hands wrapped firmly around the other side of the pole. It was unusually warm for spring and for once he wasn’t wearing his winter furs.

“You’re not chatty yourself,” she retorted, wiping the sweat from her eyes. The pole wasn’t quite even between them; at sixteen she had reluctantly accepted that she wouldn’t reach any higher than his shoulders.

“Just thinking, kiddo.” Joel halted, forcing her to stop too. He pointed at the slowly darkening sky above them, the oranges and reds licking the horizon as the sun set. “It’ll be dark soon. We won’t make it home before then.”

That wasn’t a surprise. The deer hadn’t started their migration yet and they’d had to forge further and further from their settlement to get decent-sized game. Ellie glanced over her shoulder and smirked. “You’re getting slow, old man.”

“This old man can still kick your ass,” Joel warned. Despite his gruff attitude, she could see the laughter in his eyes, the hint of a smile hidden by his greying beard. “There’s a town just over the hill.”

“Is it really a ‘town’ now?” Ellie muttered as she led the way. By now, it had been thirty, nearly forty years since it all went to shit, and while things were getting better, they weren’t quite there yet. Even with her limited knowledge of the ‘before’, she could tell by the way the adults acted that more was lost than she could ever imagine. Hell, she could tell just by looking at the surviving buildings; they weren’t ready to make such houses, let alone malls.

The view when they reached the top of the hill answered her question. A small ‘town’ sprawled in the valley below, though she wouldn’t really call the dilapidated structures ‘buildings’ anymore. Even from here, she could make out the broken walls, the collapsed roofs, the places where mother nature forced her way in, reclaiming the land. They’d be lucky to find a safe place to sleep, let alone a proper house.

Unfazed, Joel merely grunted at the sight. “Let’s find something before the sun sets. There’s wolves in this area.”

“Then the building can crush them with us,” Ellie taunted as she slowly made her way down. The pole shifted as they moved and dug into her shoulder.

Joel snorted. “And you say I’m dark.”

She laughed.

-x-

Miraculously, there was a house that was mostly intact. Mostly, save for the tree growing in the center of it, its leaves covering the holes in the roof. Mildew and mold grew on the walls and Ellie wasn’t sure just how much weight the stairs could take before collapsing. Whatever furniture was left was scattered about, like a miniature cyclone had hit the place.

Still, it was better than sleeping outside, and Ellie didn’t complain as she helped set the dead deer in a corner. She was getting soft; there was a time when she liked sleeping under the stars. Her time at the commune was changing her and she wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

It was changing Joel too. He groaned as he rubbed his knees. “We sure bagged a big one.”

The deer was big, but not more than any they’d caught in the past. Ellie bit her cheek. “I told you I could handle this on my own.”

His eyes flicked to hers as he straightened. Joel scoffed dismissively. “Stop trying to get rid of me.” He glanced at the deer again. “Though, can’t say this is what I had in mind for my retirement.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” Ellie responded lightly. From the corner of her eye, she studied him, the familiar wrinkles on his face, the grey and white that peppered his hair, the way he favoured his knee even as he stood. Despite his protests, he was getting old.

They couldn’t keep hunting together long. Ellie paused at that thought. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. Who would go out with her after? Who would pretend not to laugh at her jokes, or give her the roughest of compliments?

She had thought she was used to loss, to loneliness, but there was a difference between missing a ghost and watching the living wither away.

Not noticing her stiff posture, Joel scoffed. “Bet you’ve been waiting years to say that.”

“Maybe,” she teased half-heartedly.

“Well, don’t try to act too old yet. You’re still just a kid and I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” Joel went over to an overturned cabinet and pulled it open. The door fell off its hinges, landing on the ground in a dusty thud.

Ellie raised a brow. By now other scavengers would have picked the place clean and nature would have destroyed the rest.  “You know there’s nothing left worth finding.”

Joel shrugged as he rummaged through the shelves, dropping cracked platters and broken glasses. “Old habit. Besides, you never know.”

“Guess you don’t.” Ellie gingerly picked up a musty cushion and wrinkled her nose. The sofa had seen much better days; its springs now poked out of the seats. “Though I think we’ll just find some rats.”

“Then you’ll have a snack.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Joel moved on to a half-collapsed desk. He shifted aside the wet clumps of paper on the surface, the writing faded till there was just the faintest mark of blue ink. Awkwardly, he asked, “So. You said you’re moving in with Dina?”

Ellie burst into laughter. Every part of Joel looked uneasy and uncomfortable, as though he wasn’t sure how to have this conversation. He hadn’t known what to say years ago, when she’d brought home Cat. “Relax, I don’t need to hear the ‘birds and the bees’.”

“That…” She didn’t have to see his face to know he was flustered, Joel gripped the desk and muttered, “Look, that was Tommy’s idea.”

“Uh-huh. Sure it was.” It was easy to imagine sometimes what it was like to have a parent. In the past decade, Joel had more than stepped up to the plate, and while she didn’t always care for it, Ellie couldn’t deny that it made her happy.

“Look, I won’t make that mistake again.” Joel held his hands up. “Anyways, you two getting serious?”

Ellie pursed her lips as she moved to a nearby closet. Yanking it open, she muddled over the question. How could she describe the feeling when Dina held her hand, when their eyes met and they fumbled to the bedroom, needing to get closer? Or the way Ellie wanted Dina to be the first person she told things to? Or even the way they lingered late into the night, neither willing to say goodbye?

She’d loved Cat and her firm hands, the stories she’d tell with ink and smoke. Loved Riley in the way only a child could: all innocence and promises for a future they couldn’t even imagine.

Dina felt bigger than all of that. Sometimes Ellie was certain she’d be swallowed whole.

Nonchalantly, Ellie shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe. I…I don’t know.”

“You trying to cover every base, kiddo?” Joel laughed, glancing at her over his shoulder before returning to a drawer. He pulled out an empty can and tossed it to the side. “Well, she’s a real nice girl. Real lucky to have you.”

Ellie cracked a smile. “You say that about all my girlfriends.”

Joel shrugged. “I mean it too.”

She didn’t doubt that. As he moved, the hair on his neck shifted, revealing a scar. Ellie could still remember how he got it, still remember their fight leading up to it. The lies he’d given, the forgiveness she’d never expected to give. There were still days when she wasn’t sure if she should have been saved from the Fireflies. Maybe the world would have been a different place by now. Maybe they wouldn’t have to deal with the infection anymore.

Yet, she couldn’t deny she wanted to live. She might have done the same in his shoes.

They had talked about it once. Fought about it.

And then, by the time his scar healed, she’d let it go. And he’d never told her a lie since.

The sun started to set as they moved from room to room, clearing out any dangers, keeping an eye out for any goods. In a bedroom, Ellie examined a broken bookshelf and a strange horn-like object on it. “What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Joel looked up from the dresser he was rummaging through. His eyes widened and he dropped everything before sauntering over. “Would you look at that?”

“I am,” Ellie replied bluntly, rolling her eyes. “What is it?”

“A record player.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he ran his fingers across the strange contraption, leaving trails in the dust. “Didn’t think I’d see one again.”

“A record player?” Ellie frowned. It sounded vaguely familiar, a word she must have heard once or twice in passing before dashing it out of her mind. “And that’s…?”

“Kids these days,” Joel scoffed gently, carefully picking up the player. He blew the dust off it and she wrinkled her nose as she tried not to sneeze. “It plays music.”

Plays music. Ellie crossed her arms and studied the strange object. She could guess the sound came out of the horn, but unlike her Walkman, it was way too big to carry around easily. “Like my Walkman?”

Joel chuckled wryly. “Not quite.” He rubbed the square base and checked the metal arm. “Might still be usable, if we can find some power for it.”

Ellie cocked her head, not quite following. Joel seemed almost excited by the discovery, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why. They had the guitar. They had her Walkman. What more could this dinky little box give?

“We’ll need some records too…” He trailed off as he looked up at the shelf. His eyes widened at the sight of some thin envelopes and he pulled them out.

Ellie peeked over his shoulder to find Take it Easy written on one. She picked up another that said Louis Armstrong. “And this is?”

“Delicate.” Joel carefully pried the envelope out of her hand. Opening it, he slid out a big black disk and held it up to the right. “It holds music. Seems like they’re in decent enough condition, all things considered.”

She squinted up at the black surface. There were a few scratches on it. Ellie wondered if that was bad. “So we can play them?”

“Maybe.” Joel glanced at her, then at the record player. “Actually, might be able to show it to you now.”

He crouched, pulling out their radio. Turning over the record player, he grinned as he noticed something at the bottom. “Looks like they’re a match.”

She squatted next to him. “What are?”

“The batteries.” He pulled them out of the radio and slotted them in. They fit with a soft clunk. “This is one of those new models. We got lucky.”

Before she could ask how, he slipped the record onto the player and sound flooded the room. Ellie fell over, startled. “What the—”

Joel laughed. “What, scared of a little music?”

“Not at all.” She glared as she got up, wiping the dust off her. The record spun on. It was like listening to the Walkman, but louder. Clearer. Ellie recognized a trumpet and a piano. There were probably more instruments she couldn’t name. A man sang softly and slowly.

Ellie swallowed as the music enveloped her. “It’s so…strange.”

“Not really.” Joel shrugged as he flipped through the records. “These used to be ordinary.” At the fifth record, he stopped, his fingers shaking as he just managed not to drop it.

“Joel?” Ellie peeked over his shoulder. ABBA was scrawled across the envelope. Four people smile up at her, frozen in time. Was the picture from thirty years ago, or even further? “A-B-B-A? Is that even a real word?”

“Not really,” he murmured, expression distant.

Ellie knew that look. All the adults had that look, at some time or another. Whenever they were reminded of the before. There was something almost mythological about that time. Her entire life, she had seen traces of it, like fingerprints on a smudged glass. The forgotten teddy bears and electronic devices that she could only imagine the use of. The old books with names like Russia and Bangladesh and South Africa, marking countries that no longer existed. The roads that criss-crossed the world like arteries and veins.

There was only one thing that made Joel like that, and it was Sarah. She didn’t need to ask. You didn’t live with someone for years without learning about their habits.

Quietly, she asked, “Did she like them?”

“Not really.” Joel’s voice was soft, like footsteps on the grass or the murmur of leaves as the wind blew through. He didn’t look up.

Ellie reached down and squeezed his hand.

His gaze flicked from her to the record before he set it down with the others. “There’s more intact here than I expected.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Joel half-smirked, a lazy curl of the lips that reminded her of a particularly smug stray cat at home. “Told you we’d find something good.”

Ellie raised a brow and scoffed. “My Walkman’s more useful than this thing.”

“Your Walkman’s trash and your taste in music’s shit.” Joel picked up the record player and pushed it into her arms. Surprised, she struggled to grip the damned thing. “You know what, consider this a gift.”

Finally wrapping her arms around the bloated object, she glared at him. “I don’t need it.”

“Don’t be like that. Dina’ll like it, trust me.” Joel gathered the records, looking entirely unapologetic. “It’s a housewarming gift.”

Despite herself, Ellie faltered. “How do you know what she’d like?”

At this, Joel snorted. “I got eyes and ears too, kid. Trust me, she’ll like it.”

Somehow, that just left her feeling even more doubtful. There was nothing reassuring about Joel’s people skills. Ellie knew firsthand just how terrible they were. “If she doesn’t…”

“I’ll get you something else.” Joel shrugged carelessly. “But that won’t happen.” He paused, his thumb rubbing on the record’s surface. “You know, in my day, living with someone meant you’re practically married. The records can be your wedding gift.”

Marriage. To be honest, Ellie had flirted with the idea a few times, but hearing it from Joel made it sound more tangible. Keeping her tone light and airy, she taunted, “You’re being a cheapskate.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, “but it’s not like there’s anything better to give. Unless you want the deer?”

Ellie laughed. She couldn’t deny this kind of practicality. Raising a brow, she asked, “So, anything else from your time I should know about, grandpa?”

“Neither of us have the time to go cover all of that,” Joel replied, setting down the records and taking the player out of her hands. Ignoring her quizzical look, he set it on the ground and set a record on it. Music filled the air as he looked up. “But here’s one more. Every wedding has a father-daughter dance.”

Father.

Ellie blinked owlishly. “Huh?”

Her eyes widened as he stood in front of her, holding out a hand. “Let’s see how you do. Can’t let you get married with two left feet or Dina’ll just kick you out.”

“She wouldn’t dare.” Ellie took his hand anyway. 

“Hey, I’m the one who got married.” Joel shrugged as he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Listen to experience.”

“And then you got divorced,” Ellie pointed out, chuckling.

He shrugged. “Still counts as experience, kiddo.” Joel winced as she stepped on his foot. “You’re gonna need more practice.”

It felt like a promise for tomorrow, for the future. As nebulous as someday was, Joel would be there. Even if he couldn’t go out on a hunt, he’d still be around to help clean up.

And maybe, really, that was the only promise she needed. It was the only one she believed in, after all.

“You just need stronger feet,” Ellie teased, stepping on his foot again.

[theshadowrealmitself]

I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them

People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human

“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”

“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”

“Yeah!!”

“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”

“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“

“How illogical”

“That’s what I’m saying!!!”

[bean-spring]

Hot take and not to be a killjoy or the shipping police but people treating Viktor or Jinx's aroace headcanons as if they were canon is not the revolutionary take people think it is.

Headcanons are always all right but we have to acknowledge that they are somehow damaging when they apply to stereotypes. It might not be the case for everyone but most of the time people unconsciously assume that disability/mental illness=asexuality. These headcanons erase the freedom of attraction from people who are already seen as unable to have sexual/romantic experiences/desires, when it's completely untrue and harmful.

You can headcanon Viktor and Jinx as aroace, but I have seen people changing their minds once Viktor is no longer disabled (s2 with all of his other forms) and Jinx is no longer as mentally ill (alternate universe Powder). And it speaks wonders of how people see these characters.

"I never thought about Jinx being able to feel romantic/sexual attraction until s2!" To believe she's actually only capable of that when she's not "damaged" is incredibly disturbing. Especially since Jinx has always had a bit of a flirty personality too.

"I've always seen Viktor as asexual, I don't know why!" That's fine. You can headcanon him as ace. But I believe there is a reason behind it, most of the time, if for some inexplicable reason the "vibes" of the disabled character are making you think he's ace.

I say all of this being aroaspec myself, by the way. Headcanon all you want but going to people's posts commenting how "it's weird for you that they have romantic/sexual plots when they're clearly aroace" is not a win at all. It's a headcanon, after all, and it should be treated as such, and that's fine. But it also is damaging to spread stereotypes like these.

Of course the disabled character is asexual. Of course the mentally ill character is aromantic. It's not as revolutionary as you might think, tbh.

Fandom is not activism and it's all right to have any headcanons you want BUT some of them are filled with damaging stuff and perhaps we should look into ourselves more before treating these assumptions as something canon.

[enbysiriusblack]

baby marauders for the soul <3

[hinamie]

yuuji smiling and sukuna making a face like That did u really think i wouldn't do a panel redraw

[egophiliac]

should've just let Vil be the one to fly, it would've gone SO much easier. 😔

also HEY how are everyone else's pulls going, because I have had the most RIDICULOUS luck, seriously, halloween magic is 100% real

[dandelionjack]

on tumblr you can say words such as ‘doctor who is like mythology to me. it’s like an ongoing cosmogonic folktale’ and you will recieve 5 notes from people that are willing to indulge your insanity. in real life you say things like how are the kids and was your holiday fun and the weather’s lovely this morning. and i think that’s beautiful. autism.com/careers

[leglimh]

super itty small part of what i think the intro to the dw sjow would look like

[dreadfuldevotee]

Ruby: Yeaaaah, The Doctor just constantly trauma dumped on me starting from the day we met

Yasmin Khan, who has finally been convinced to come back to companion support group after finding out that The Doctor settled down with a family 48 hours after leaving her: I have to leave

[etoilesdeglace]

seaweed brain vs. wise girl

[thereadingmoon]

I feel like Muir isn’t afraid to tell a story. In the sense that she writes like she doesn’t care what a reader thinks of her.

When I first read GtN, I found it as very average SF/F fare and my heart was barely in it. I felt like the ending was messy with its battle royale aspects and I wrote Gideon off as a standard edgy YA-style protagonist. The narrative sounded so simplistic and I didn’t feel attached to the cast of characters. On its surface, GtN is a very standard high-concept story with a stereotypical summary on goodreads. I was ready to write Muir off as an ok and middling debut writer.

Then I picked up Harrow.

It was like Muir was a sleeper agent and just blew my mind. I could see her skill in her craft and my investment did a complete 180. I had to reread GtN and realized all the things I missed and all the things that were planted from the start that were hidden by Gideon’s ignorance, flippancy, and naivety—the reasons why I wrote the book off. I underestimated Muir because I thought Gideon’s voice was her voice.

The writer is a liar, an illusionist, and a conman and I fell for Muir’s game. And that is so refreshing.

[aalghul]

once again thinking about jason as duke’s robin. he’s ~4 years younger than jason, and that puts him at 8-12 during Jason’s time as robin. that’s prime time to get attached to your local kid vigilante before your own life goes downhill.

and if we try to keep duke’s meeting with bruce in zero year + duke’s age (so he can remember the meeting and hold that conversation with bruce), he has to be around 8. if he starts following batman through the news at that time because of the mess that just happened, the robin he sees is probably jason. I’ve literally connected the dots

[introspectivememories]

was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-

[p4nishers]

can we talk about how much queer and trans joy was this season? maggie and nina. they/them muriel, saraquel, beelzebub, even GOD. "you're a good lad" "im not actually, either". that one shopkeeper and his non binary spouse, played by a non binary actor. beelzebub and gabriel. shax, nina and maggie all thinking azi and crowley were together. also yes i'm gonna mention: crowley and aziraphale's kiss. it's just, i get that everyone's hurt and so am i but can we please focus on how beautiful this season was to us? we got so much and i'm so happy, despite the ending.

[forgetful-nerd]

Leo is at least 90% of Raph’s impulse control.

Leo just grabs him out of instinct at this point.

[ravenpureforever]

On one hand, Young Justice is kind of neglected by the actual superheroes that should be looking out for them in a lot of crucial ways and very much failed by the adults around them

But on the other hand Red Tornado straight up hosts a parent-teacher conference where their respective legal guardians all show up, barring Batman who’s in traffic so Nightwing fills in instead because Robin’s dad does not know he’s a vigilante which is objectively hilarious