#so this is just. screaming into the void.

[sp4ceboo]

ok but like your tags. i agree 100%, because since when were fandoms fleeting things that dropped off as soon as new content has stopped being made? i hadn't even noticed, but whenever i get into a new fandom, i rush to get something out while the 'hype' is still there (which can be rough bc i always get into stuff way later than everyone else lol).

as you said, it's consumerist - i think in the end it all boils down to the very consumerist way writing is being viewed these days. we're writers, not machines! readers pls remember this

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[oldsoul007]

crawling back to you

joel miller x reader

summary: you haven’t seen joel since he let you leave boston with tommy, until…

a/n: grumpy joel, angsty and fluffy

joel miller masterlist

The last thing I remember was the blinding midday sun and the crackling of the dried leaves beneath my boots. I’d been walking for hours—too many hours—with no food, no water, and no sign of a single soul. The world was too quiet, and when the dizziness hit, I knew I’d pushed too far.

I hadn’t seen the raiders coming. Not until it was too late. They burst out from the tree line, shouting, armed, and I’d tried to run. But my body betrayed me. My knees gave out before I could process what was happening, and the hard, cracked asphalt of the road rushed up to meet me as they closed in.

Then darkness.

For a while, there was nothing but a foggy void, until I felt something. A jolt of awareness. The weight of the world slowly pressed back on me: the ache in my limbs, the sting in my throat, and the cold chill of shade falling over my skin.

Voices.

“You think she’s alive?”

The words floated into my consciousness, sharp and clear. My heart raced. The raiders—had they caught me? I wanted to open my eyes, but my body wasn’t listening.

“How the hell should I know, Ellie?”

That voice was rough and edged like the bark of an old tree. Deep. Grumpy. Close. Familiar.

“She looks alive. Kinda.”

“Kinda doesn’t cut it, kid.” A sigh, heavy and annoyed. “She’s breathing, so that’s a good sign. Or bad, depending on how you wanna look at it.”

The ground beneath me was rough gravel digging into my side. Someone must’ve moved me. My knife. My hands twitched instinctively for it, but I didn’t feel the familiar weight at my belt.

“She’s got a backpack,” the girl—Ellie—said. “Maybe she’s got something useful on her.”

“Don’t even think about it,” the man snapped.

“Relax, I was just saying!”

They didn’t sound like raiders. But I wasn’t taking chances. Slowly, I forced my eyelids to lift, but it was like peeling back layers of lead. The light stung, and all I could make out at first was a blurred silhouette looming above me.

“She’s moving!” Ellie’s voice jumped an octave.

“Yeah, I can see that,” the man grumbled.

The shapes above me sharpened: a man with graying hair and a perpetual scowl crouched close, while a girl with curious, wide eyes hovered just behind him. Bottoms of their faces covered with a bandana. My muscles tensed, and instinct screamed one thing: fight.

I surged up, lashing out before I could think. My body felt sluggish, weak, but adrenaline drove me forward.

“Whoa!” Ellie yelped, stumbling back.

He moved faster than I expected. In one fluid motion, he grabbed both of my wrists and shoved me back down onto the ground, pinning me there with a strength I had no hope of matching.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His face was inches from mine, his grip like iron.

“Get off me!” I spat, twisting against him, but it was useless.

“You wanna try that again?” he snapped, glaring down at me. “Because I guarantee it won’t go how you think.”

“Joel, should I—” Ellie’s voice cut through the wind, and I glanced up to see her pointing a gun at me.

“Hold on,” the man—Joel—said. His voice made something in my chest clench, though I couldn’t place why.

He shifted, one hand leaving my wrist to yank the bandana down from my face. The cold stung my skin as it was exposed to the biting wind, but all I could focus on was his face.

Joel froze. His eyes widened as he stared down at me, his grip slackening just enough for me to shove at his chest.

“Y/n?”

Hearing my name in that voice—his voice—hit me like a gut punch. I blinked up at him, snowflakes catching on my lashes as my brain struggled to catch up.

“Joel?” I rasped, disbelief and anger warring inside me.

He let go of my wrists, sitting back slightly, but I wasn’t done. With a grunt, I shoved him hard enough to make him stumble.

“Get off me, asshole!” I snapped, scrambling to my feet.

Ellie lowered her gun, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you know her?”

Joel stood slowly, brushing snow off his jacket, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah… I know her.”

“Know me?” I barked, crossing my arms against the cold. “That’s all you’ve got to say after years?”

“Not now,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm. “We need to move. It’s not safe out here.”

“Oh, now you care about safety,” I shot back, but the storm was picking up again, and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t stay out here alone.

Ellie glanced between us, still holding the gun loosely. “So… are we just letting her come with us?”

“She’s coming with us,” Joel said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I snorted, pulling my scarf back up. “Like hell I am.”

“Fine,” Joel said, stepping closer until he was towering over me. “Then freeze out here on your own.”

We locked eyes, the familiar stubbornness in his gaze making my blood boil. Finally, I sighed, muttering under my breath. “Fine. But if you pull something like that again, I’m putting a bullet in your knee.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Joel smirked—barely, but I caught it. “Good to see you haven’t changed.”

I looked around us.

“Where—” My voice cracked, my throat dry. “Where are they?”

“The raiders?” Joel asked, his tone clipped. “Dead. You’re welcome.”

Ellie shot him a look. “You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

Joel ignored her, turning to scan the horizon like he was already regretting stopping to help.

Ellie turned back to me, her tone gentler. “You need water? Food? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

I swallowed hard, forcing out a hoarse whisper. “Water…”

Ellie looked at Joel expectantly. “She needs water.”

Joel sighed heavily, like this was the biggest inconvenience in the world, and dug a bottle out of his pack. He shoved it toward me without a word, his scowl deepening.

“Don’t drink too fast,” he muttered. “You’ll puke.”

I took the bottle with shaking hands, sipping carefully.

Ellie gave me a small smile. “See? He’s grumpy, but he’s not so bad., but i’m guessing you knew that already. I’m Ellie, by the way. What’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” I croaked.

“Well, y/n,” she said, leaning back on her heels. “Looks like you’re stuck with us for now.”

Joel shot her a glare, but she just smiled sweetly at him.

As I sipped the water, trying not to choke, I couldn’t help but wonder why Ellie seemed so eager to help me—and why Joel seemed so reluctant to.

The pain in my thigh hit me like a freight train the moment I tried to stand. It was sharp and hot, radiating up my leg with every twitch of movement. I glanced down and saw the blood, dark and sticky, soaking through a jagged tear in my jeans. My stomach turned.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, dropping back to the ground.

Joel and Ellie were still nearby, Joel pacing with his rifle slung low, Ellie crouched by the fire, poking at it absentmindedly. I pressed my hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it wasn’t doing much good.

“You okay?” Ellie asked, looking up.

“Fine,” I lied, my voice tight.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Joel muttered without even glancing my way.

I glared at him but focused back on my leg. I needed to stop the bleeding, clean it—do something before it got worse. My hands fumbled as I tried to tear a strip from the already-ruined part of my jeans, but my fingers were shaking too much to get a good grip.

“Dammit,” I hissed, tugging harder.

Joel finally turned, watching me struggle with an expression that screamed irritation. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, not looking at him.

“Yeah, sure looks like it,” he said dryly, crossing the distance in a few long strides. Before I could protest, he crouched down in front of me and grabbed my leg.

“Hey!” I yelped, jerking back.

“Hold still,” he growled, yanking my jeans up over the wound to get a better look.

“What are you—”

“Helping,” he said sharply, cutting me off. “Because you clearly can’t do this yourself.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need you bleeding out and slowing us down,” he shot back, his hands already pulling a small bottle of alcohol from his pack.

I froze when I saw it. “Wait—wait.”

He didn’t stop, just uncapped the bottle and dumped it onto the wound in one swift motion.

Pain exploded through my thigh, white-hot and searing. I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of me, my whole body jerking away from him.

“Goddammit!” I shouted, clutching at my leg. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Stop moving,” Joel barked, his hand clamping down on my leg to keep it still. “You’re just making it worse.”

“You could’ve warned me!”

“I did,” he said flatly, grabbing a clean cloth and pressing it firmly against the cut.

“Yeah, great warning!” I hissed, still trying to recover from the burn.

Ellie was sitting nearby, watching the whole thing with wide eyes. “Uh, yeah, he’s not exactly the most… delicate, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Joel ignored her, wrapping the bandage tightly around my thigh with the kind of practiced efficiency that made me wonder how many times he’d done this before.

“Can you walk?” he asked once he was done, standing and offering me a hand.

I stared at it for a second, then grudgingly took it. He hauled me up, steadying me when my leg wobbled.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, even though I wasn’t.

“Sure you are,” he said, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe me.

Later that night, we camped near a small fire Joel had built, the warmth of the flames doing little to ease the tension between us. Ellie sat across from me, poking at the fire with a stick, while Joel leaned against a nearby tree, his arms crossed and his rifle within easy reach.

“So,” I said after a long silence, my voice cutting through the crackle of the fire. “Where are you two headed?”

Ellie perked up immediately, her mouth opening before she could stop herself. “We’re going to—”

“We’re going to the Fireflies,” Joel interrupted, his voice steady and sure.

Ellie froze, her eyes darting between the two of us. “Joel!?” she hissed, clearly caught off guard by his honesty.

I frowned, looking between them. “The Fireflies? Why?” I could tell there was something they weren’t saying, something important.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Because Ellie’s immune,” he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of what those words meant. “And they’re working on a cure.”

I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. “Immune?” I repeated, glancing at Ellie.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to someone new knowing. “Yeah,” she mumbled, shrugging. “I got bit. Didn’t turn. That was, like, forever ago.”

I stared at her, processing what Joel had just admitted. “And you’re taking her to the Fireflies,” I said slowly. “Because they think they can use her immunity to make a cure.”

“That’s the idea,” Joel said, his tone neutral. “Whether it’ll work or not, that’s anyone’s guess.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms as I studied him. Joel wasn’t the type to trust anyone with this kind of information lightly. The fact that he was telling me now said a lot.

“And you’re okay with me knowing all this?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Joel held my gaze, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t’ve said anything if I didn’t trust you.”

That hit harder than I expected. For a moment, I couldn’t find the words. Joel and I had history—messy, complicated history—but this… this was something else.

After a long pause, I finally spoke. “Where are the Fireflies at?” I glanced at Joel, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Salt Lake City,” he replied, his tone flat, as if that was the only answer he had to offer.

I nodded, thinking for a moment. “That’s a hell of a trip.”

Joel didn’t respond to that, so I let the silence stretch a bit longer, watching the flickering flames. The crackle of the fire was the only thing filling the space between us.

I shifted slightly, the weight of the night starting to press on me. “I was with a group,” I said after a beat, keeping my voice low, like the words might break something if I said them too loud. “Good people. Or… they were. Got separated after some raiders hit us a couple days back. Didn’t have much of a choice but to run.” I paused, my gaze flicking to Ellie, who was staring at the fire, her expression unreadable. “I wasn’t planning on being out here alone.”

Joel watched me for a long time, and I could tell he was taking in every word, sizing up what I said, probably weighing if it added up. “You got a place to go?” he asked.

I swallowed, hesitant. I hadn’t told him much about Jackson yet. The thought of it felt like a fleeting memory, a piece of the past I wasn’t sure I could go back to. But the truth was, it might be the safest place for all of us, at least for a while.

“Yeah,” I finally said, my voice steady. “I got a home back in Jackson. It’s… safe there. Got supplies, people. It’s not perfect, but it’s the closest thing to normal I’ve seen in years.”

Ellie looked up then, her brow furrowed. “Jackson? You mean, like, an actual town?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Walled-in, secure. We’ve got farms, housing, everything you’d need. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than out here.”

Joel’s face darkened slightly, though I couldn’t tell if it was from hope or suspicion. I felt the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air between us. I had to bite back the words that wanted to spill out—about Tommy, about how he was safe and well in Jackson. But I stopped myself. Ellie was sitting there, and I didn’t know how she’d react if Joel found out his brother was there.

Instead, I kept my tone even. “If you’re heading to Salt Lake City, we can stop there first. Restock on supplies, maybe grab a decent meal. Then you can keep moving.”

Joel turned his gaze toward me, his eyes narrowing a little, his jaw clenched. “You sure it’s safe?”

I nodded, my voice firm. “It is. Safer than out here, anyway.”

Ellie, still quiet, looked from Joel to me. After a moment, she shrugged, but her gaze lingered on me for a second too long. “I mean… doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Joel looked at her, then back at me. He hesitated for a moment, and I saw the conflict flicker in his eyes. Finally, he gave a small nod. “All right. We’ll stop there. But just for supplies. Ain’t got time to waste.”

I nodded, a small relief washing over me. We’d do this. I’d help them, guide them, and maybe even find a moment to tell Joel about Tommy—if I could. The fire crackled between us, the sounds of the night closing in as we all settled back into the quiet.

Joel leaned back against a log, his eyes flicking upward to the stars, while Ellie poked the fire again, lost in her own thoughts. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself, feeling the weight of the journey ahead pressing down.

I wasn’t sure what would come next, but I was going to get them to Jackson first. Maybe, after that, I could finally tell Joel the truth.

Joel didn’t say anything else, just turned his attention back to the fire. But the tension between us felt lighter now, the weight of unspoken things settling into something almost comfortable.

Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for sure: Joel trusted me enough to tell me the truth. And that, in this world, meant everything.

The three of us sat around the small campfire, its glow casting flickering light onto the trees surrounding us. The temperature had dropped as the sun set, and I was grateful for the warmth of the flames and the smell of something vaguely edible Joel was cooking over them.

Ellie sat cross-legged on her sleeping bag, fiddling with the pages of her battered joke book. She had already gone through a handful of them today, and each time Joel looked like he was about ready to roll his eyes out of his head.

“Okay, okay,” Ellie announced, holding up a hand as though commanding our attention. “This one’s a classic. You ready?” She cleared her throat dramatically, glancing between me and Joel. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

I stifled a laugh already, knowing she was probably more excited about the punchline than the joke itself.

Joel, stirring the pan of food, gave her a sideways look. “Do I even wanna know?”

“An investigator!” Ellie exclaimed, cackling as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

I couldn’t help but chuckle along with her, more at her reaction than the joke. Joel just shook his head and sighed heavily, setting the pan down on a flat rock by the fire.

“She’s been doin’ this since we left Boston,” he muttered, as though he were lamenting some great burden he’d been forced to bear.

“Damn right I have!” Ellie said, puffing out her chest with mock pride. “You know you love it, Joel.”

He gave her a look that was somewhere between amused and exasperated. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, kid.”

Ellie smirked, flipping through the pages of the book again. “Oh, I’m not done. I’ve got more where that came from.”

“God help us,” Joel said under his breath, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face.

I leaned back, my hands stretched out toward the fire, watching the two of them. “You know,” I said, grinning, “I think it’s impressive she’s been carrying that book all this way. Priorities.”

Ellie nodded vigorously, pointing at me. “Exactly! See, y/n gets it. I’m spreading joy in the apocalypse. That’s a valuable service.”

Joel snorted. “Sure. That’s what it is.”

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him before turning to me. “Okay, y/n, this one’s for you: Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?”

I thought for a second, but before I could even guess, she blurted out, “Because it was two tired!”

Her laughter was contagious, and I found myself laughing right along with her. Even Joel let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe this was his life now.

“Two tired,” I repeated, grinning. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Thank you!” Ellie said, pretending to tip an invisible hat. “I’ll be here all week. Or, you know, as long as it takes us to get to Jackson.”

Joel let out a long sigh, but there was no missing the warmth in his expression as he looked at her. “You’re somethin’ else, kid.”

Ellie beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Damn right I am.”

And in that moment, as the fire crackled and Ellie started flipping through her book for another gem, I couldn’t help but think that even in a world like this, there was still room for laughter. And that was worth holding onto.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth flickering in the cool night air. Ellie was asleep, her body curled up tightly in her sleeping bag, breathing steady and slow. Joel sat across from me, his figure dark against the firelight, eyes distant as usual. There was a heaviness in the air, a silence that weighed on both of us.

I’d been toying with whether or not to tell him, but after today, I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. It was something Joel needed to know, something that would either ease his mind or make the road ahead even harder.

“Joel,” I said softly, not wanting to disturb Ellie’s sleep.

His head turned slightly, his eyes catching mine in the dim firelight. He didn’t say anything, just waited for me to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about Jackson,” I began, feeling the weight of the words before they even left my mouth. “And… there’s something you need to know.”

Joel gave a slight nod, signaling me to go on. I hesitated for a moment, gathering the courage.

“Tommy’s there,” I said, keeping my voice low but steady.

The moment the words left my lips, I saw the shift in him. His face didn’t betray much, but his posture stiffened. He didn’t react right away, though I could feel the tension building in his body. His jaw tightened, and for a long beat, he was silent, staring into the fire.

I let the words settle in the air. I could see him thinking, piecing together the years of separation, the anger, the hurt.

“You didn’t know, did you?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, the weight of his past with Tommy hanging between us. “No,” he said, his voice rough, like the realization had hit him harder than he expected. “I thought… I thought he was dead.”

I swallowed, knowing how much those words meant. Joel had carried the guilt of losing Tommy for so long, thinking the worst, even when he didn’t want to believe it. I hadn’t expected the reaction I got—gratitude in his eyes, mixed with that edge of disbelief.

“Tommy’s alive, Joel,” I repeated, my voice softer now. “And he’s at Jackson. He’s been there, rebuilding, trying to make a life. I thought you should know.”

For a long moment, Joel didn’t speak. He just stared at the fire, his brow furrowed, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes.

Finally, he exhaled a long, steady breath, as if the news had knocked the wind out of him. “I thought… I thought I’d lost him for good,” he said, almost to himself.

His words trailed off, but the gratefulness in his voice was clear, almost as if he’d been holding onto the idea of Tommy being gone as a way to shield himself from hope. It had been easier to live with the belief that Tommy was lost than to think he might have been alive all this time, somewhere out there.

I watched him carefully, feeling the rawness of the moment between us. “Maybe he’s been waiting for you,” I said quietly, not wanting to push, but knowing the door was now open. “Maybe he’s been hoping you’d find your way back to him.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, his face unreadable. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the past catching up with him.

I could see the turmoil in him, the complex mix of emotions he’d buried deep for so long.“You don’t have to decide anything now. But I wanted you to know.”

Joel finally looked up at me, the hardness in his eyes softened by something else—relief, maybe. Or maybe just the shock of knowing his brother wasn’t lost to him after all.

“‘preciate you tellin’ me,” he said quietly, his voice rough with something I couldn’t quite name.

There was a silence, thick with all the things left unsaid. Joel turned back to the fire, but this time, I didn’t sense the same tension in him. The news had cracked something open, a small window of possibility where before there had only been despair.

And as the night stretched on, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the first step in bringing Joel and Tommy back together—or if the past would remain an insurmountable wall between them. But one thing was clear: the hope he’d long buried was alive again.

The snow crunched softly beneath our boots as we trekked through the wilderness on the way to Jackson. The cold bit at my nose and cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Joel and Ellie’s banter ahead of me.

Joel led the way, his rifle slung over one shoulder, his other hand gesturing as he explained something to Ellie. She hung onto his every word as usual, peppering him with questions about the terrain and wildlife.

“Do you think we’ll see any bears?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Nope,” Joel replied gruffly. “Too cold for ‘em right now. They’re holed up for the winter.”

Ellie groaned in disappointment. “Lame. What about wolves?”

“Let’s hope not,” Joel muttered, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “You don’t wanna see wolves, trust me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ellie grumbled, kicking at a chunk of ice. “I think wolves are badass.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I brought up the rear. Ellie’s energy was infectious, even if Joel often acted like he was too old to keep up.

We rounded a bend in the trail, and that’s when we saw it.

An elk.

It stood in the middle of the clearing, its tall, proud antlers stark against the white of the snow-covered forest. Its coat gleamed in the weak winter sunlight, steam rising from its breath as it exhaled into the cold air.

Ellie gasped audibly, her mouth falling open. “Whoa. No way.”

Joel stopped in his tracks, holding out an arm to keep her from running ahead. “Stay still,” he warned softly.

Ellie ignored him completely, taking a careful step forward. “Oh my god, it’s huge. It’s so cool.”

The elk’s ears twitched, swiveling toward us, and for a moment, I thought it might bolt. But instead, it let out a low, guttural bugle—a deep sound that echoed through the trees.

Ellie froze, her eyes going even wider. “Did you hear that? Holy shit, it talked to us!”

Joel chuckled under his breath, his shoulders relaxing as he watched her excitement. “That’s not talkin’, kid. Just elk bein’ elk.”

But Ellie wasn’t listening. She took another step forward, her hands lifted slightly as if to beckon the creature closer. “Hey, buddy,” she said in a soft, awestruck voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re cool, I promise.”

The elk snorted, its breath visible in the cold air, and then—with a graceful bound—it leapt into the trees, disappearing from sight.

Ellie whirled around to face us, practically vibrating with excitement. “Did you see that? That was the most amazing thing ever! Did you hear it? That noise was insane!”

Joel shook his head, but there was a small, fond smile on his face. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’m serious! That was so badass!” She turned to me, her grin so big it lit up her entire face. “Y/n, tell me you got how cool that was.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I adjusted my pack. “I got it, Ellie. You’re right—it was pretty incredible.”

Ellie groaned dramatically. “Pretty incredible? That thing was, like, majestic as hell.”

We started walking again, Ellie skipping along beside us as she reenacted the elk’s bugle. Joel shook his head at her impression, and I felt a warm glow in my chest as I watched them together.

The world outside was cold, dangerous, and unforgiving, but moments like this reminded me why we kept going. For Ellie’s wonder. For Joel’s quiet, steady presence. For the strange, beautiful family we’d become.

The cold cut deep as we trudged through the snow, the wind howling like it wanted to drive us into the ground. My leg throbbed with every step, the makeshift bandage Joel had wrapped around it holding tight but doing little to ease the pain. I wasn’t about to complain, though. Not after they saved me from those raiders.

Ellie walked beside me, her steps crunching in the snow as she glanced over. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked for the third time since we started walking.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice was tight. The truth was, I wasn’t fine. But what mattered was getting all of us somewhere safe, and Jackson was the only place I could think of.

Joel walked ahead, his rifle slung low but ready, his eyes scanning the horizon. Always the same—guarded and alert, like danger was lurking just around every corner. In this world, it usually was.

I’d agreed to help them get to Jackson. It was the least I could do after everything they’d done for me. And Jackson? It was my home now. A place that, for all its faults, still stood strong in a broken world.

“Not much farther now,” I said, though the storm had made it hard to tell. “If we keep moving, we’ll make it before dark.”

Ellie gave a tired nod, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Good, ‘cause I don’t think my toes are gonna make it.”

Joel glanced back at her, his expression softening for just a moment. “You’ll be fine. Just keep moving.”

We’d just crested a small hill when the sound of horses cut through the wind. My heart leapt into my throat as I turned to see them—figures on horseback emerging from the blinding snow, their weapons drawn.

“Joel,” I hissed, grabbing his arm.

He saw them too, his posture tensing as he stepped in front of Ellie and raised his rifle. “Stay behind me,” he muttered, his voice low and firm.

The riders spread out, circling us. There were at least six of them, their horses pawing at the snow as the riders aimed shotguns and rifles in our direction. My stomach churned as I recognized one of the voices calling out through the storm.

“Drop your weapons!” Maria shouted, her voice carrying over the wind.

“Maria!” I called back, stepping forward despite Joel’s arm shooting out to stop me. “It’s me—y/n!”

The tension in the air crackled like static. For a moment, no one moved. Then Maria urged her horse forward, squinting through the snow until recognition crossed her face.

“Y/n?” she said, lowering her shotgun slightly. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, relief flooding through me. “But these two—” I motioned to Joel and Ellie, who were still frozen in place. “They’re with me. They saved my life.”

Maria’s gaze shifted to Joel, her eyes narrowing. “That him?”

I blinked, confused, until realization dawned. Of course, Tommy must’ve mentioned Joel before.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “It’s him. And this is Ellie. They’re just passing through. Please, Maria, lower the guns.”

Maria hesitated, her gaze flicking between me, Joel, and Ellie. Then she gave a sharp whistle, and the other riders lowered their weapons.

“Alright,” she said, her tone cautious but less hostile. “Let’s get back to Jackson. You look like hell.”

I almost laughed. “You have no idea.”

The ride back was quiet, the tension between Joel and Maria palpable. Ellie, for once, didn’t say much, her gaze fixed on the snowy landscape as we made our way through the storm.

When the gates of Jackson finally came into view, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The sight of the sturdy walls, the faint glow of firelight beyond—it was the first time in a long while that I felt like things might actually be okay.

The gates of Jackson creaked open as the group rode in, the heavy snowfall outside muffled by the sturdy wooden walls of the settlement. Inside, the warmth of fires and the sound of distant chatter greeted us. It was like stepping into another world—one where life hadn’t completely crumbled. The bustling streets, people moving with purpose, children playing—it was overwhelming after days of cold, silence, and death.

Joel dismounted his horse slowly, his eyes scanning the settlement as if it were a mirage. His rifle hung loosely on his shoulder, his posture stiff, as if he wasn’t quite ready to believe this place was real. Ellie stuck close to him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the sight of people—families—living normal lives, or as close to normal as you could get these days.

Maria swung off her horse, handing the reins to a stablehand. “Y/n, go with Ethan and get checked out. You’re in no condition to be walking around on that leg,” she said, but her gaze flicked to Joel.

Then Tommy appeared.

Tommy was working on some construction, the sound of hammering and the distant clatter of tools filling the air. As we walked closer, I could see a few men working, their backs turned to us as they focused on their tasks. The moment I saw Tommy, though, my breath caught in my throat.

He was hard at work, his back bent as he nailed some boards into place, completely unaware of our approach. I could feel the tension rising in Joel beside me, the anticipation thick in the air.

And then, without warning, Joel’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and commanding:

“Tommy!”

The sound of his name cut through the air like a crack of thunder. The men working nearby stopped what they were doing, and for a brief moment, it felt like the entire world went still.

Tommy froze, his back still to us, and I watched as his shoulders stiffened. He slowly turned, his eyes scanning the area, before they landed on Joel. His face went slack for a moment—an unreadable mix of disbelief, relief, and confusion. The moment seemed to stretch on, as though neither of them quite believed what was happening.

Then, Tommy blinked, and before I knew it, he was striding across the ground, closing the distance between them. He didn’t say a word at first, just reached Joel in two quick strides and pulled him into a tight, almost desperate hug.

The sound of it—the weight of all that lost time between them—was deafening. The hard lines in Joel’s face softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep breath, like something inside him had been released. They stood there for a moment, holding onto each other like nothing else mattered.

Tommy pulled back first, his hand gripping Joel’s arm, his voice gruff as he spoke, almost too soft for me to hear. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Joel looked at him, his eyes full of that familiar pain but also something else—something deeper. “Thought you were dead, Tommy.”

Tommy’s face softened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the brotherly bond they once shared. “Guess I got a bit tired of waitin’ around, but I’m here now, Joel.”

The silence between them spoke louder than any words could. It wasn’t just a reunion—it was a reckoning. Years of pain, of choices that had torn them apart, now coming to a head.

They pulled back, Tommy’s hands gripping Joel’s shoulders as he looked him over, his eyes scanning every line, every scar. “You look like hell,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice wavered.

Joel gave a faint huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… it’s been a long road.”

Tommy’s gaze shifted, landing on Ellie, who was standing just behind Joel, watching the reunion with quiet curiosity. “And this must be…?”

“Yeah,” Joel said, stepping slightly to the side so Ellie could step forward. “This is Ellie.”

Ellie gave a small wave, clearly unsure of what to say. “Uh, hi.”

Tommy chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, any friend of Joel’s is welcome here.”

For the first time in a long time, the weight Joel carried seemed to ease, if only slightly. It wasn’t just Jackson that felt like a safe haven—it was the connection, the bond that hadn’t been broken, even after all this time.

And for a moment, it felt like the world wasn’t so heavy after all.

Joel walked slowly down the stairs, the creaking of the wooden steps the only sound in the quiet house. The dim light of the living room pooled on the floor, where I sat curled up on the couch, my eyes fixed on him as he approached. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the weight of everything that had just transpired. His steps faltered slightly, the heaviness of the fight with Ellie still weighing on him.

I didn’t say anything at first, just watched him with an unreadable expression, the flickering light casting shadows across her face. He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion in his bones. The world felt quieter in moments like this, like it was holding its breath.

“You really think that’s the answer, huh?” I said, my tone biting but not cruel.

Joel didn’t meet my gaze right away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He huffed out a bitter laugh, the kind that wasn’t funny at all. “Don’t start with me. You don’t know the half of it.”

“Don’t I?” I finally spun around to face him, my voice rising with the heat of my anger. “You think I haven’t been watching this slow-motion train wreck of yours? You think I don’t know what you’re doing—pushing her away before she can leave you?”

His face darkened, the shadows casting sharp lines across his features. “This ain’t about me and Ellie. Don’t twist it. This is about you always thinkin’ you know better.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” I stepped closer, my hands trembling with fury. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the only one who’s been hurt. You let me leave, Joel! You stood there and let me walk out of Boston like I was nothing to you. You never even tried to stop me.”

His silence hit harder than his words ever could. I saw his throat work, his jaw tightening as he stared at me like he was trying to break me down with his gaze alone.

“You wanted to leave,” he finally said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Beg? You made your choice.”

“Because you didn’t give me a reason to stay!” My voice cracked, the words laced with all the pain I’d kept buried for far too long. “Do you know what it was like, leaving behind everything—leaving you—because I thought I wasn’t enough? That I’d never be enough for you?”

The firelight flickered in his eyes, and for the first time, I saw it—the guilt, the regret. He took a step closer, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken words.

“Y/n…” He said my name like it hurt to say it. “I thought I was doin’ right by you. You deserved better than what I could give you. Still do.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as tears threatened to spill. “You’re such a goddamn coward, Joel. Always thinking you know what’s best for everyone else. You don’t get to decide what I deserve. You don’t get to—”

But before I could finish, he closed the distance between us in one sudden, desperate motion. His hands came up to cup my face, rough palms trembling against my skin. His breath was warm, ragged as it ghosted over my lips.

“I ain’t a coward,” he murmured, his voice raw.

I opened my mouth to argue, to push him away like I had every right to, but the words caught in my throat. His eyes burned into mine, and in that moment, everything else—the fight, the years of distance, the pain—faded into nothing.

He kissed me like a man starved, like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. My hands found their way to his chest, gripping the worn fabric of his flannel as I kissed him back with all the anger and longing I’d been too afraid to admit.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was years of unspoken feelings, of missed chances and buried love, all colliding in one explosive moment.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard. His hands lingered on my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “For Boston. For everything.”

I closed my eyes, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Me too,” I whispered back, my voice trembling.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing and the crackle of the fire. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel so alone.

[mycatpomona]

how does one find phannie friends

[smokingtigerhiddengun]

You know, I'll admit, I was kinda sad and more than a little scared about the US tiktok ban and what that meant for us as a country, but if this is how we get it back I don't fucking want it.

I'm so fucking disgusted. I understand that many people have their own reasons to be happy it's back, and I know that a not-insignificant number of people rely on it as an income generator. I know many people use it for organizing, to protest, to express solidarity, to scream into the void and actually be heard for once - and I hope they keep doing just that.

But I will not be joining them this time. I'm downloading my data and then I'm fucking gone. Giving that motherfucker a full page splash screen thanking him for "saving" them before he's even in office tells me everything I need to know about TT's direction moving forward. I can sense what kind of experience I can expect there now as a someone who isn't a white cishet neurotypical male Christofascist, and it's about to get a lot more fuckin hostile for a lot of us.

I truly hope I'm wrong, that I'm being paranoid , but I have an unfortunate knack for being right about things like this.

[sampurrie]

i just need to let out a scream to the void bcs Bastard vs Zombies got a new episode, and the ending hurts my soul and i need therapy

take this random comic, based from the newest episode

Albus York my poor boi, my time travel shenanigan's fuck your timeline so much, i feel so bad while listening to the audio.

Way to show how time travel makes you less human by showing the consequences through the person who thought so little about him self, I CANNOT AUAGHAAHISASAHS

[felassan]

Harding narrative sketches and captions by Nick Thornborrow, under a cut due to spoilers and length:

Nick Thornborrow: "Let's do a thread of Harding sketches and talk about the crazy Twine file I made. There was a visual novel style version of Veilguard's earliest story outline that was written by Trick and the writers and assembled in Twine by me. These black and white sketches are what populated the Twine file."

[artist's caption] Portrait sketch of Harding.

Harding examining an artifact in the ruins of the disrupted ritual.

Harding being struck by arcane powers.

Harding exhibiting magical abilities dispatching a demonic monster.

Nick Thornborrow: "Let's just pause and enjoy these two drawings side by side."

1 of 2. Harding deep in concentration, hands flexed trying to levitate a pebble on the ground. Rook stands by patiently in the background, hands in pockets, eyes locked on the pebble.

2 of 2. The camera has pulled way back. Harding is small in the frame, and not merely moving a pebble, but causing the entire ground to convulse in a radial pattern around her. Rook is being tossed like a ragdoll into the air.

Nick Thornborrow: "Back to the Twine file. It was meant to emulate the flow of the narrative and broadcast that narrative out to the wider team. "Here's what we're trying to make." The challenge I put on myself was to reflect the narrative branching we intended to build."

Harding carrying a torch entering a dark dwarven threshold deep underground.

Harding meeting the Oracle. The Oracle is smaller in this rendering than how she appears in game.

Harding and the Oracle communing through the stone in a strange dark and infinite sublime psychological space.

Harding briefly being overcome with rage. Her eyes gleam red, and red glowing veins glow below her skin a la video game corruption.

Nick Thornborrow: "So I did what no one asked for. You couldn't simply plow through the story. Side missions would become available on a cadence and would be assigned to numbers on a dice roll (a certain amount of variability in side content was planned in the early days of Veilguard)."

Harding being blown back by angry earth based boss monster. This was the boss fight after meeting the Oracle in game.

Rook spends a quiet moment with Harding who is becoming accustomed to her powers, elegantly floating three stones in the air in front of her. A beautiful eroded gorge vista in the background with a narrow waterfall.

A down shot of Rook and Harding. Harding and Rook hold hands.

Rook withdrawing her hand from Harding in pain. Harding's hand glows with lyrium power.

Nick Thornborrow: "You would need to accumulate enough trust with a certain number of factions, and/or progress enough of a companion's story line in order to advance the twine version of the game simulating the rough gating envisioned by designers and writers at the time. (This was a hugely collaborative effort)."

Kal Sharok dwarf trapped in a stone column being rescued by Harding who is exploding the wall of the column with her powers.

Harding bow and arrow action pose surrounded by rocky golem monsters.

Harding confronting a red glowing mirror version of herself.

Harding grim faced, pressing her forehead to that of the red glowing version of herself who is screaming in rage. Symmetrical composition.

Nick Thornborrow: "Finally the twine file was sent out to the team. I was frustrated while working on DA2 and DA:I where team members had no idea what the narrative of the narrative-based game we were making was. It would lead to disjointed decisions being made completely divorced from the efforts of other teams."

Rook in the foreground fighting rock golems. Harding and mirror Harding in hte background floating ominously in a miasma of red lyrium energy.

Harding standing on a precipice overlooking a crowd of Kal Sharok dwarves. Harding is glowing and heroic.

Harding and the Oracle in a dark inifinite void pressing their palms together. They are surrounded by ghostly images of dwarven ancestors representing unbroken lineages.

Harding smiling among a crowd of Kal Sharok dwarves.

Nick Thornborrow: "Like bright and cheery level art being constructed where a world ending apocalyptic magical event was occurring. With Veilguard, it was the earliest into a project where the narrative team could be like "Hey team, it'll change along the way, but this is the story we're going to be iterating on." END"

Rook and Harding enjoying an intimate cozy domestic moment. Harding resting her head in her palm propped up on her elbow, Rook smiling hands behind head on pillow.

Environment shot of Harding's childhood home in a field in the background. In the foreground Rook and Harding are cresting a hill in their walk towards the home.

Rook and Harding sharing a kiss, both figures glowing subtly with lyrium energy.

Art by Nick Thornborrow. [source thread]

[hiddentoadstoolkey]

Screaming Into the Void: 

My Thoughts and Theories About the Past, the Present, and the Future 

(Of Chasers, of course)

Here's the text version of the document I had made eariler this week <3

It’s mainly unfiltered ramblings that I plan on editing later (and adding visual references)

Spoilers for the finale below

Breaking Down the Season 1 Finale:

Chase

He had clearly grown so much over the course of the season and honestly this entire arch has been such a great arch of seeing who he is now 

The guilt he has for bringing in Pru and Deacon into the story and feeling responsible for their deaths

A part of me fears of how he’ll take it when more people join the story, but he has gained a sense of responsibility 

Also that face he make WITH THE LITTLE HEART EYES AHHHHHH 

Deacon & Prunella

There isn’t much to say about these two if were just talking the finale as neither of them are alive for long enough

I do wonder what their paper death means for how they proceed going forward

There’s no doubt that all three of them would add some precaution in future stories, especially if the team expands

Buddy 

HE’S A KEY!!!!!! THE THEORIST WERE RIGHT?!?!??!?!?!

Add this alongside [insert massive Miraculous s5 spoiler]

Nox - presumably IroN OXide (peep jthealien for pointing this out in the comments)

He has a moon on his back, in the same spot as Goldie’s sun and Bronze’s Apple - its his character symbol

Moon opposing the sun as a symbol (plus the book, will continue that later down) - he’s likely the Villain key

Something clearly happened in his past that makes he regrets - could be what led him to ex-libris or why he’s specifically the villain key…. 

This makes the comment “he looks 20-ish,” the “dreams are often not what they seem” note at the end of Dreams by Night, and the “do they not feed you?” debacle during the beach boys arc more understandable

Re: Dreams By Night - I revisited the episode to find the quote and noticed that Nox (this feels weird typing that) has a metal ring around his neck, maybe mimicking a keychain???

More key related thoughts:

“Don’t you want to be human again” - does this mean that the keys were all human, or is Buddy (and maybe some others) were originally human and then turned into keys

If this were to be the case, you would assume Silver (or Bronze/Goldie) would have brought it up, but 

1. We know their memory is foggy

2. Silver has failed to mentioned big factors to Chase before (e.g. Chase needing all the keys to make his wish; she lowkey gives “you didn’t ask” energy and she’s so real for that)

Also, note that she say “Don’t you want to….” and not “Don’t you want us to”

Design wise, Buddy differentiates from the keys we’ve seen so far in that he’s not solely one color, his hair and clothing appear to be much darker than his skin

He appears to be established as an outlier from the the rest of the keys we know - suggesting there’s something different about him. My guess is that he’s not the original villain key, but rather a replacement of sorts 

We’ve seen damaged keys before, peep Silver at the start of the comic, but is there a point to which a key can no longer be repaired by narratonin? Could this be how and why Nox (and Ex Libris) know about the outcome of specific scenarios (e.g. when a book gets damaged)

Now that we’ve gotten a full look at Violet’s key, I wanted to point out how Silver is the the only key (out of what we’ve seen) to have a different Shank, with hers being twisted and everyone else’s being straight

The Book:

The front of the Book displays the symbols of the keys in a circular manner - with (presumably) oppositional characters placed across from one another.

 The pairs are:

Sun & Moon (12 & 6 positions): Goldie (Hero) & Nox (TBD) 

Since they are symbolic opposites, Nox is expected to be the villain key (+ some of his dialogue throughout the season hinting towards this)

Bell & Bow (1 & 7): TBD

The Bow maybe the Thief key mentioned by Deacon in Episode 42 (Reasoning: Robin Hood, notable thief used a bow and arrow)

Crown & Feather (2 & 8): TBD

The Crown is plausibly the Ruler key mentioned by Deacon in Episode 42

Diamond & Rose (assuming) (3 & 9): Violet (Villainess) & Silver (Heroine)

The 9 o’clock position is covered in both panels, and thus I’m working on the assumption that the rose is there

The only other position for the rose would be the mark at the 4 o’clock position

Unidentifiable & Apple (4 & 10): TBD & Bronze (Sidekick)

As mentioned before, I could not determine what the symbol after Violet was, if it’s Silver’s rose, then the pattern breaks

Following the pattern, the symbol probably belongs to a henchmen archetype (FREDDY BELIEVERS RISE)

Heart & Star (5 & 11): TBD

The Heart is plausibly the Lover key mentioned by Deacon in Episode 42

The Key in the middle!!

We can think its different than the rest of the keys as we see Violet locked into the book (the 9 o’clock position, where the rose should be)

This is what I assume to be the primary factor that allowed Buddy to go into the same exact stories as Chase, sort of acting as a master key allowed to unlock anything

Since Violet is stuck into the slot of the Rose, the book sends the user into whatever story the Heroine key is in

Side note: This circle pattern would make a very sick looking clock, and that will be my objective goal if we get a closer look at the book (or symbols)

Stargoth

So, um, the kiss…

It has not registered in my mind

The lore of the keys have taken up most of my mind 😭

The sky tear -> there’s an emphasis on the true love’s kiss!!! What if Nox and Chase are meant to each other's true love (at least in the storybooks)? 

Alt. there may be something to do with true love and they keys (maybe breaking the spell/curse, or something)

Outside of that, I just love how we get to see a reversal of the requiem hug as they start to show how much they care for each other!!!!!!

Final thoughts

This finale was honestly so shocking to me in the best way possible and it makes me really excited for what’s to come 

It honestly feels a lot like the ending of Stagtown (in terms of lore drop and whatnot), and I don’t think I’ve been this hyped about a fandom (or finale) since SVTFOE season 2 finale bro 

I’ll probably add more to this document when I’m more organized and when the episode comes out and we can discuss ☺️

[five-milfs-and-a-twink]

Hey-

So I know I don't talk about politics too much here but this has been on my mind all day and I want to share my thoughts with an audience that I know is at least listening a little. Sometimes talking about this just feels like screaming into the void but here we go.

For those of you who don't know, I'm an American. We just elected the worst possible man to be our president. As younger, queer, biracial woman, I'm scared. Not only for myself but for my trans friends and anyone with family or friends that are immigrants.

Censorship is likely to run rampant bc wtf happened with the tiktok ban? He's best buddies with billionaires and does not give a fuck about the American people. His priority right now is renaming the Gulf of Mexico and trying to ban the existence of trans people, but people are still struggling to get by, which will only get worse with his tax cuts. The tax cuts that will only help the rich gain more wealth while everyone else continues to struggle.

Not to mention that the millions of immigrants he wants to deport are the backbone of the American labor force. It's exploitation for sure, but we're gonna feel the effects when he kicks them out.

The separation of church and state has gone out the fucking window.

I don't know how we got to this point. If you're scared like me, then know you're not alone. But we have to keep fighting. We can make these next four years hell for him if we play our cards right. Keep using your voice, because this does not get to end today.

I want to pursue a career in the government/law eventually, not because I think I can fix everything, but because I want to do something.

Also pretty cool thing is I don't think he really has control over tumblr. He's got Meta, X, tiktok... but we're safe here for now.

To end on a lighter note, here's a song Patti LuPone was involved in that just bashes Trump from 2020.

I know this was just word vomit, but I hope it resonated with some of you. Please feel free to reach out for support.

Stay safe, and don't give up <3

[mako-neexu]

HORRIBLE SCREAMING FROM MY THROAT)]]] their souls were inextricably linked!!!!!!!!! THEIR SOULS WERE INTERTWINED THEIR SOULS BECAME ONE AND THEY FIT PERFECTLY they ran together as one and when the time came for him to let go. HE TORE HIMSELF APART PIECE BY FUCKING PIECE ALL IN A BID FOR HIS OTHER HALF TO GO ON AND BE HAPPY EURYDICE IS BEYOND SAVING BUT THAT DOESNT MEAN SHES GOING TO SIT BACK AND LET ORPHEUS WALLOW IN GRIEF. FROM THE UNDERWORLD OF HIS OWN HE DID ALL THAT HE CAN JUST TO MAKE THAT STAR HAPPY EVEN AT THE COST OF THAT STAR HATING HIM DESPISING HIM HE WAS WILLING TO DO EVERYTHING WILLING TO DO THE STUPID AND IMPOSSIBLE.

AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE HOW CANON HONEST TO GOD CALLS HIM FOOLISH.

hE IS NO WISE MAN NO WISE MAN WOULD EVER DO THIS SHIT. BUT ONLY A FOOL IN LOVE WOULD ONLY A FOOL IN LOVE WILL. THE FOOL IN LOVE AT THE COST OF EVERYTHING HEARTLESSLY DESTROYS HIMSELF AND PAINTS HIMSELF TO BE THE VILLAIN TO BE DEFEATED. the fool abandons his one and only comfort in this world for the sake of his goal. raging violet fire in the shape of his footprints, sword poised to cleave adversaries in one strike, the hollowness of his left eye glinting with a void similar to stardust. fool whose weakness is love, despite determination of steel and flame. he walks down the spiral staircase constantly missing something. constantly feeling hollow, hollow, so hollow, hungry for the emptiness to be filled, so turns to revenge, the sweet ambrosia of blood is never enough but the moment a warm light fills the corner of his vision he stops in his tracks. and witnesses fine starlight appear before him at his moment of weakness. battered man, foolish knight with permanent tear tracks against his skin,, he pauses closes his eyes and takes a deep breath...so long before shakily exhaling. and at that moment, the soul is complete, he takes out his cigar once more and hold it up against blinding light, that leaves a dazzling trail instead of ash and dust.

[theotherrookie]

"Taxes will have to wait, the weirdo has the priority right now." Rook said, crossing her arms, "And he better speak up, or I'll give him some good reasons to scream in the void."

Especially if she was right about those stray bits of memories that were starting to resurface. Ratchet had a lot to answer to and if he really couldn't keep his mouth shut and talked back, then he was in for a lot of pain.

…Which he might have enjoyed. It was like he was built to be infuriating.

"No, that's not a thing. There's a reason why we scared off most of the other hunters. They don't know what they're doing and only get themselves killed or make a mess we then have to pick up." Rook replied, before shrugging, "Either that or they're gloves with paws on them. Again, very cute. I'm almost jealous."

Not that she had any reason to complain about her pile of pigeon themed goods. It was clear that Rook was interested in the offer, even if she didn't fully understand how that was going to work.

"So you can talk my brain into being nicer to me? That'd be great." The perspective of a peaceful nap was very inviting indeed. "I don't really want to do much to them, it'd just be nice if I didn't have to stare into those weird snake eyes every time I close my eyes."

Or hear Five's voice when she allowed herself a moment to empty her mind.

"That's okay. I trust you, I know you just want to help, even if I don't really get most of this stuff. I'm willing to give this a shot, what do I have to do?"

While Rook was still rightfully upset, she was feeling a little more confident they were going to give Five what he deserved. His weird revenge plot had kept him from prying vital information from her, they still had a few aces up their sleeves.

"I don't think they'd be stupid enough to try messing with my place. The ghosts are on high alert, we can probably count it as another safe spot." Rook said, tilting her head back, "I should get a better security system, maybe a magical lock."

Ironically enough, both would be expensive to source. Though that wasn't much of an issue anymore.

"You can tell a lot about a hunter from his favorite readings. You'd be surprised how many of them believe there's a goblin infestation in the city."

And perhaps she would find out how Five had learned about her.

"Well, there might be one reason. Killer Beans is metal as hell, but Mage Mittens sounds like a cozy pair of gloves."

Erica would have loved both and all things considered, she should probably leave it to the elf to provide advice on cat moves.

"Yes, I get nightmares." Rook replied, "It was getting a bit better after we paid dad a visit, but I know I'm going to go through all this stuff again as soon as I pass out."

And truth be told, a part of her still wasn't all that confident she was actually free from Five's control.

"…How would that work?"

[gaylightisminetocommand]

.

[oh-snapperss]

they'll fund a genocide and let their poor regions be destroyed. don't fucking forgive them for that.

my hometown is completely gone from what pictures i can find of it, i have not heard from my family (including aunts, uncles, parents, one sibling, and a grandparent), and the infrastructure in the mountain communities is wiped out. i cannot stress how catastrophic this is, or how difficult it will be for these communities to build back. i am angry, and scared, and heartbroken by everything that's happened.

and our government is spending it's money to fund a genocide.

free palestine, and don't be complicit. realize that this is not something happening that doesn't affect you--although it shouldn't take this to care about the deaths of thousands of people anyway.

[wanologic]

always good to keep a screamhole handy

[soyochii]

Grown adults but also Highschool bullies fr

[transmascskywalker]

i was so ready for the fallout show to be bad i was not ready for cooper howard to make me emotional over ghouls AGAIN. you survive the blast, barely. you spend hundreds of years wandering the ruins of the life you can’t help but know you took for granted. you’ve spent so long regretting what you never did you forget the good things. humans die. you don’t. are you even human anymore? really whose hands are these?the same neighbor who mowed the lawn? when you find humans they look at you like something awful. you can feel the gap where your nose used to be. you don’t notice for hours when your gas mask breaks, until the cracked glass takes over your vision and you wonder when you stopped needing it. you watch generations age and die. you alone know what it’s like to wander through centuries. which do you identify with more, the mindless shambling corpses or the people who drove you out of their city? you watch as new humans inherit the earth, and they make all the same mistakes you did. but they won’t listen to monsters.

[ruby-static]

Dude caught me taking a screenshot, I'm cooked-