#*orders to follow. ⟨ ask. ⟩
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#lmao#for anyone who's curious the process went:#send ask to aita official#blog blows up#someone realizes its a chexer fic#i follow them bc they seem cool#i join their rvb server#their encouragement pushes me to finish the Actual Fic i was working on#i expand the fic to be more of a whole au after it comes out much better than expected#the next fic in the au that i work on has to do with a character's brain injury#this leads me to do research into brain injuries#''......huh. this sounds. a lot like the neurological symptoms that my doctors have been saying is just part of my anxiety disorder''#think on that for a while#go to the ER for unrelated reasons#remember my theory#bring it up to the doctor#Doctor Immediate Concern#doctors orders a ct scan#''eeyup! that there's some atrophying and a chiari malformation! y'ever had a head injury''#(i had had several)#''well! shit! time to refer you to neurosurgery :) see if we cant do somethin about all that memory loss and severe pain and shit''#and now we are here#it also lead me to research osddid systems for the first fic#and now my therapist is having me tested for osdd because i did not know that those symptoms were not a thing everyone experiences#so like. thanks for helping me meet friends who could encourage me to engage with the things i like + learn more about myself#^ ^ <3#im actually not gonna say ''ok last update fr this time'' bc idfk maybe something WOULD be funny to post on here
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12 year old Tom (he's a December baby): *gets hurt*
11 year old harry *wraps bandage around his knuckles* : don't worry this'll make the hurt go away *kisses the bandage*
Later,
Tom : punch me in the face abraxas
#hp#harry potter#tomarry#harrymort#tom riddle#harry and tom attend Hogwarts together#harry kisses the wound better#tom will def ask Abraxas to punch him in the face#preferably on the lips#harry remains blissfully oblivious#abraxas is confused#but follows Tom's orders anyway#harry in the '40s
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I love you so much please don't die (can you perchance draw scott as a cat)
As someone dealing with depression, I'll try my best!
#I think Scott would be more of a dog#he is loyal no matter how unfair and cruel people has been to him#he likes to follow rules and orders#he is very much a family oriented person#he protect#so yeah...big good boy energy#catclops would destroy everything and be chaotic#that's my take but don't take it seriously#cyclops#scott summers#ask response
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You may not be the smartest puppy of the litter but you sure are the one with the fattest ass.
Now bend over
KAJDJSJAJA WHERE DID THIS COME FROM???
But also YES OF COURSE ILL BEND OVER ANY NUMBER OF TIMES FOR YOU 🥺🥰🥵
#ask the kiwi#b 0 ngripper#bout to make me touch myself in this parking lot goddamn#also calling me dumb? thats how you get me to follow orders even faster
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The Revenant Wife
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of grief and death.
Summary: Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband.
Word count: 1.6k
Note: ficlet is based off of this previous post about Joel getting separated from his wife during the outbreak and assuming you died until you find one another years later. Reader is described to look like Sarah. Title came from the ever lovely @djarin-junk <3
Tagging those I think would enjoy: @pedrostories @thesadvampire @joel-mlller @softanon @max--phillips @captainsamwlsn @hooplahoopla @moondirti
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Ellie didn’t know that Joel had a wife.
Granted, she didn’t know much about his old life at all.
She knew he built things. That he had a brother named Tommy and a daughter named Sarah, but didn’t like to talk about the latter that much. In one fleeting conversation, full of mumbles as her eyes began to close while they rested under the night sky she heard him mention you but was far too gone to truly hear what he said. Nothing more than the vague rumble of his voice saying “my wife” before her eyes opened once more.
“You’re married?”
She asks with such incredulous shock it sounds more like “somebody married you?” but girls at her age hardly ever have filters.
“I was.”
There’s the same bristle in his throat and far off look in his eyes as when she first asked about his daughter. An open answer but one that carries enough unsaid to tell Ellie of your fate. To warn her that she should change the subject or simply shut her mouth and go to sleep before plucking his raw nerve one too many times until he snaps-
“What was she like?”
But Joel learned early on that Ellie wasn’t one to follow warnings.
“Kind.” His breath stutters. “But not a pushover- she didn’t take shit from anybody.” He stares up at the sky, feeling his chest grow tight and fingers twitch by his side until there’s a rustling, the girl next to him rolling over to face him and he turns to find Ellie peeking out from her sleeping bag with a smile.
Damn this girl.
“Not even from you?”
Joel scoffs. “Especially from me. The amount of times she gave me and Tommy and earful-” he shakes his head, Ellie watches a smile grow on his face in silence, as if worried she may frighten it away.
“Did she cook?”
Ellie thinks of the stories the older kids would tell her. The ones who remembered life before the Outbreak, who told her of freshly baked pies on weekend and fluffy pancakes in the morning.
Joel remembers the first time you tried to bake him a cake for his birthday back when he was sixteen. How he opened the door to your forlorn face and a store bought sheet cake in your hands because as your mother told him over the phone, you damn near burned the whole house down trying to bake for him as a surprise.
“From time to time.”
There was only so much she could get out of him before his voice became clipped and eyes full of an emotion she didn’t quite know the name of that he told her to get some rest. Leaving her with nothing to do but to stare at the sky and wonder about these stories in the shape of a woman who unveiled a little bit more about the mysterious man she traveled with.
Of all the silence and secrets that made up the man that protected her, she created stories to fill them. Stories of Joel Miller, husband, father, brother and badass contractor that everybody loved. Of his soldier brother, of his wife and their smiling daughter between them both.
In Ellie’s mind, you didn’t work.
But not in a ditzy lame way like some boring housewife. But just because you didn’t have to.
Joel said that everybody loved contractors so that means he probably got paid like, a ton of money to build stuff for people so you got to stay at home all day. Ellie imagined your house to be ginormous. Maybe Joel made it himself for you when you guys first got married. It was big enough that when Joel came home everyday he’d call out your name and it’d echo through the hall as you called him into the kitchen, where your daughter sat reading as you set dinner on the table. Sometimes you’d get upset if he came home late but then he’d kiss your cheek and you would roll your eyes but smile before you all sat down and ate as a family.
Ellie imagines Joel’s daughter, she wonders if Sarah looks more like her mother than her father.
Ellie wonders as the sleep takes over her body, if they could have been friends.
When it happens, months later after she’s come to think of Joel as something akin to family and he thinks of her as something he can’t say out loud just yet, she’s shocked. She’s face to face with a woman holding her at gunpoint that looks nothing like the smiling mother she dreamt of during cold nights.
You don’t match the stories Ellie made up in your head.
You’re mean.
No. Mean isn’t the right word.
Cold. Yes. you're very cold.
Ellie watches in shock as you ask where they're headed, gun focused on the center of her chest while the two boys at your side point their own at Joel, who has yet to speak.
She waits for him to answer, but he just stares at you in awe. The same man she’s seen kill and threaten to keep her safe day in and day out is rendered speechless until all he can do is utter your name and she realizes that he knows you. More than that, judging by the way he surrenders his gun to you with no fight, something she had never seen him do.
You lift your head to look at him, the brim of your hat raises just enough to clear the shadow cast over your face and Ellie can finally see your eyes and the snarl on your face.
You’re also very pretty.
“I won’t ask again.”
The two boys standing on either side of you have your eyes. Same color and intensity, narrowed into slits like guard dogs waiting for an order and Ellie sees the way Joel stares at them.
She wonders if Sarah had brothers.
“Out west.” He manages. “Takin’ her to her family.”
Your eyes move to her and she holds her hands higher in the air.
“That true?” “What?”
“Is he telling the truth?”
The taller one, Duke, she had heard you call him, had already ripped the bag from her back and emptied its contents onto the ground, she had nothing else to hide from you.
But then she sees something in your eyes. A concern for her that she hadn’t seen since Tess or Marlene.
And she understands.
“He’s telling the truth.” Ellie forces out.
You watch her for a moment and there’s a moment of panic where she thinks you can see right through her lie.
But then you lower your gun and jerk your head over your shoulder.
“C’mon.” is all you say before you begin to walk away. The boys gawk at you for a moment before you give them a look of warning and they follow in your step, occasionally casting glances behind them at Joel and Ellie who follow suit.
She’s quick to grab onto the sleeve of Joel’s jacket and pull with a harsh whisper as the other’s march forward.
“You know this psycho?”
Joel flinches at her voice as it pitches up. If any of you heard her, which he gathered you did because Ellie didn’t have an inside voice to save her fucking life, you didn’t care enough to react.
Ellie whispers his name again. Insistent and angry for answers but he just keeps looking forward. He can’t take his eyes off of you or the boys ahead and it fills her with worry but she doesn’t know why.
“She’s my wife.”
You lead them to a cottage. Its paint is chipping and the fence is reinforced with wiring around the perimeter but it looks like a home. She can vaguely hear the soft clucking of chickens nearby and there's a flash of fur behind the fence with a pair of pointed ears that duck away just as fast as she saw them.
Ellie has seen the remnants of homes before the outbreak. The plates still stacked in the sink and the jacket still hung up on the hook. A story telling a family that once lived within its walls and is now nothing more than memories that ghosts along its foundation.
But this one is real. It’s yours.
There is a rickety wooden table in the dining room. Each chair around it seems to have been brought from a different house and is varying shades of faded brown. You kick the leg of one and nod toward it.“Sit, both of you.”
Ellie looks to Joel before sitting. He follows suit, choosing the chair closest to her.
“I’m gonna get some bandages for that leg-”
Joel shifts forward. “I don’t need-”
“I wasn’t fucking asking, Joel.”
You’re not stronger than Joel, if she had to guess. You both look the same age, but she’s seen his strength, his violence, all done for her safety and knows if it came down to it, you might not win in a fight against him.
But at your order, he sits back in his chair.
You turn and set a shoulder on your son’s shoulder.
At least. She thinks he’s your son.
Softly spoken words are exchanged while the other keeps his eyes on Joel and his hand on his holster. The boy says something back in insistence, but you tilt your head and he nods.
“If either of them try moving or taking anything.” You offer them one final look over your shoulder before slipping out of the room. “Shoot them.”
They listen to your footsteps slowly retreat until there’s nothing but the subtle creak and groan of the wood floor beneath them. Ellie leans forward to look at Joel, setting her hands firmly on the dinner table in announcement.
“Dude-” The young girl breathes out. “Your wife is a bitch.”
#revenant wife tag#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#this is just a little blurb because I havent written in a hot minute#mostly from ellies third pov so i hope the sort of juvenile internal thoughts make sense#joels wife is a sort of scary badass gal with a lil farm#joel miller x female reader#@ the blogs who asked to be tagged but had zero header or age in their bio: do better#tumblr please dont rearrange the order of this again im BEGGING#not pictured in the fic: joel punching duke in the face and wrestling the gun from his hands before the other twin shows up followed by you#and now joel has to grapple with the fact that 1. his wife is alive 2. she had children 3. he just sucker punched his own kid
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what’s your red crown's gender and pronouns the great leader?
Crownie just seems to go be it/its! It is a genderless ancient eldrich horror-thingy and honestly just seems happy to be around!
#Also doodle of Anthea before their horns came in! That first actual day they and their first follower Nona worked on clearing some space#Meanwhile Ratau ran home to both tell the Knuclebones Gang that Anthea was alive#(as they'd all assumed they would not be lucky enough for the last lamb to be THEIR lamb)#Andddd to get them proper clothes-they only got a fancy cape over the rags the Bishops ordered them into-nothing else lol#cult of the lamb#cotl#cotl lamb#cotl fanart#sketch#my art#crimson angel au#anthea#crimson angel au art#ask
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what should i draw this weekend
#me asking my primarily zukka following: hm should i draw zukka..? lmao#i always delay the comics bc i wanna do smaller things i can finish quick...#but that means i never work on the comics akfjkdk#so mainly posting this to hold myself guilty. i mean accountable#so im gonna try to do Comics Jam this weekend#i also want to get to everyone's asks that they sent recently. but now that they're deleted from my inbox they're so hard to find#because for some reason in my email they're not in chronological order? high key frustrating the hell outta me it's hard to find them#anyway#delete later
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oops. fell in love with the memory of my dead best friend
#zack's disappearance is my kunsel's villain origin story.#the search for him drives him through all 10 stages of grief. what are the other five you may ask?#well there's denial 2 and astral projection obviously. followed by ego death; homicide; and delusions of grandeur. in that order#ffvii#crisis core#kunsel#zack fair#my art <3#shoot wait. what's the ship name#zacksel#?#kunzack#??#zackunsel#???
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One thing I find so interesting is how in book 19, Cassie’s reckoning comes at the realization she may have leaped after Jake said to back off. When she had permission, she didn’t feel responsibility.
I mean, that's Jake's whole dang role on the team, isn't it? As Marco puts it "No votes. Jake decides. Then if it goes bad, we can all blame him" (#25). As with every Marco line ever, he's both joking and... not. Throw in all the times he sarcastically calls Jake "Dad", as a way of calling out someone else for treating Jake like a dad, and it's clear Marco gets it.
That is the point of Jake. He gives the order, and thus neither Ax (who pulled the lever) nor Marco (who made the call) has the blood of 17,000 yeerks on their hands. It's only Jake's crime. Jake gave the order, and so not only can Cassie (in #50) and Rachel (in #47) blame him for David, but he can go ahead and blame himself (#41). Jake gave the order, and so Ax did not actually run from battle (#26). Jake gave the order, and so Marco did not actually let his mom die (#30).
He's their water-carrier, their scapegoat. He doesn't want to be, but someone has to do it.
#animorphs#jake berenson#tiger mommy#violence#like contrast how ax feels about his attempted mass murder in 46 (horribly guilty) vs. his actual one in 53 (just following orders)#marco's ''yeah. now what DAD?'' in response to cassie asking jake what to do in 25 is one of my obscure favorite lines ever#and okay i can't come up with a single instance of jake telling tobias to do shit and tobias actually doing it#but that's those two for you
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Trick or trick?
trick it is then
#kirby fanart#marx kirby#trick or treat#glazed art#ask#one of the pumpkins goes off in magolor's face later#violence follows in short order
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hey uhhhh uhh would you be mad if someone (could be anyone) was to maybe (hypothetically) write something for the holy ghosts au. and by "something" haha. well lets justr say. the whole thang
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE sorry no I would not be mad
#I’d love to see a dozen different ideations of this au#bc what I have planned for how it unfolds is probably so different than how everyone else thinks it will#I WANT TO SHARE MORE ABOUT IT#BUT IM A SUCKER FOR THE REVEALS#like I wanna have people follow it chronically instead of me drawing mini comics out of order because I feel like itttt#which I’ll probably do anyway but stillll ughhhh#ask
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I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.
Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.
I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.
#like even I forget that all actions taken in the game were people trying to remain in protocol outside of Jimmy#Anya couldn’t have jus stolen the scanner and got the gun cause she’s a sensible person and knows she’d be in legal trouble#or get everyone’s credits docked or just hoping that there’s some chain of command for this sort of thing#Daisuke only really acted in accordance to his direct superiors because he’s an intern he wouldn’t know the first thing about protocol or#what to do in any situation. like this is essentially implied to be his first real job#Curly may be the captain but he still has to follow rules and procedures and we see with the letter the Pony Express likely has very shady#and shitty ones. he gives the best not depressing or totalitarian options he can otherwise everything is just his word which aren’t even his#or like him just asserting his position with the gun which he wouldn’t do#Swansea follows the book begrudgingly because he’s trying to stay right and not fall back into who he once was#I feel like it’s not incorporated nearly enough that the environment they were dropped into heavily affected their actions#say there was a single person higher than Curly or a plan of action when a crew member is considered a danger to himself or others#I think it’s fascinating how people will stick to protocol and break when they get scared or to their limit#cause the game shows how normalcy deteriorates and I think discounting what the characters where put through by the company takes a way a#real and scary aspect of what happened to Anya because as a friend Curly didn’t do enough for her at all his comfort was there and he#appreciated but it was a distracted sort of care but as a Captain he didn’t protect her but he’s was a Captain of the Pony Express like what#if they told him to wait to? he still should’ve done something because Anya was actively suffering and Jimmy should’ve been reprimanded but#he’s a captain with orders like the Tulpar isn’t his ship in the same way like#god I wanna explain this in a way that makes sense but the Tulpar is like designed to breed animosity and work on the bare requirements one#needs to get things done that’s not how people work and if anyone deviates or interrupts that it literally has nothing to handle it#it becomes clear that if any social unrest happens why they just say fuck it and give the Captain the gun because if something happens the#blame can easily be placed on the person they put in charge despite what they put them#in charge of like this is just like work place harassment irl because often the perpetrators are not punished but the supervisors for not#stopping them with meetings or cuts or whatever but the environment the company fostered is rarely fixed or blamed#like why was this allowed to occur? and honestly that is because Jimmy did what he did#ask me about this if this is confusing cause I worded it crazy#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#the pony express
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May I also request giovanni with a BIG DINOSAUR plush or a random cat?
Unrelated but Idk how I forgot to say this a couple asks ago, but your art style is genuinely so squishy, and edible. It would have the texture of marshmallows or pudding that's for sure
you never specified how big to make the dinosaur plush also thank you! that's definitely a new descriptor, now that I've gotten more comfortable with lineart I feel less of a need to use harsh jagged lines or scratchy refined sketches to make things look good. an art style with the edible texture of pudding...i suppose my art has taken a more whimsical fun angle as of late! that should be pretty evident in some of my planned upcoming works if it isn't already
#giovanni potage#giovanni epithet erased#epithet erased#epithet erased fanart#fanart#my art#asks#requests#I did this ask out of order since it was easiest so the other requests by this anon will follow either tomorrow or in approximately 3-4 hou#you know now that i am just about to post this i realize now you probably wanted me to draw him hugging it in some way which i could do in#follow up work but not right now
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[green devil]
caviar in a bunny suit--
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hey this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular but I’m saying it for the record here: if I tell you no, please stop messaging me about fundraisers and mutual aid.
I get enough messages that it’s impossible for me to keep up without devoting at least half an hour each day, when I’m not even on tumblr that long most days. Me having a boundary about this isn’t a moral failing, it’s a lifeboat for me on my own blog.
In my personal life I’m already advocating and donating literally as much as I can spare. This is not me not caring, it’s just me not willing to interact with that on the one place I go online to not interact with irl news and world events for the most part.
I cannot be upset all the time. I cannot be upset everywhere. I cannot use all my emotional and mental energy fielding my own upset from ongoing events. My options are to hold boundaries about this or stop coming online at all.
I’m all for sharing information and signal boosting to reasonable extents, but the scale of it this year is so large and so enduring that it is literally not possible to for me to participate on every account I have. I’ve previously shared links to Gaza eSIM donations and a major hub of verified Go Fund Mes here and elsewhere online. We, the online humans, know how to look those things up ourselves by now. There are many, many people choosing to do advocacy work, and right now, I can’t be one of them.
If you’re extremely upset when I tell you I can’t share/donate right now about a Gaza family or personal fundraiser you ask me to share here, just unfollow and block me. That’s what those buttons are for. Protect your own emotions and energy and get me off your feed instead of staying upset and continuing to engage with online people or content that upsets you.
Please don’t send repeated angry messages based on manufactured purity politics and moral outrage into my messages and inbox when I exercise the right to run my own blog.
#and on that note#I also think some people need to sit down and ask themselves#if their old end times anxieties and fears and preparations and word spreading#haven’t filtered straight into a new non religious end of society and end of modern world order anxiety that they’re pushing on other peopl#even if it is the end times#you cannot change that by beating your own anxieties into other people’s heads#people can care MORE when they are GIVEN ROOM TO BREATHE#first rule of sustainable activism is you can’t do it constantly and you can’t push it on people constantly#you have to pace it and you have have have have HAVE to play long games#short term activism burns you out and if it leads to full despair from burnout it can get you killed via depression#it’s not a joke#there’s a reason your elders have books and community lore about healthy activism even in times of crisis#they lived it. they learned from it. learn from them.#spend your time doing things that can make real impacts.#do little things online but unless you’re an actual information hub you shouldn’t be posting constantly about it#people won’t even want to follow you anymore eventually because that’s not why they followed you#and then you have no audience for your important message anyway.#I know this. I learned it myself on other accounts.#please. stop. harassing me.#how is harassing me going to make me MORE willing to change my mind and post? just because you demanded it?#I am an autonomous person#this is my ONE curated space on the website#you have a multitude of tags and other users#don’t waste energy on a person who already told you no. let’s call that activism rule number two#spend your energy where it’s not likely to be wasted#you’re needed for a long haul#act like it 😭#and stop spamming me 😭#hey little star whatcha gonna queue?
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How do you feel about the task force members?
Dilf
Daddy with an uptight attitude
Bodybuilder with social anxiety
Dumb twink with an inferiority complex
Dead and short
I'll let you figure out who's who.
#would hit twinky btw#he looks like he follows orders#mello#mello dn#mello death note#mihael keehl#mello ask blog#death note ask blog#ask mello#ask blog#death note#task force#touta matsuda#kanzo mogi#shuichi aizawa#soichiro yagami
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