#accent tag

[iveoy]

he’s standing there so politely

[karos-4art]

me like heavy n sniper interactions... even tho they don't exist so i had to make myself one!!!

this is an idea from 2021 :D please enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

e x t r a s:

draft from 2021 - october 2024

PANEL REDRAW!!!!

[sofiaflorina2021]

Hey, this is the format of Tumblr accent challenge from the early 2010s? I think there are some questions not listed here but anyway thanks.

Tumblr accent challenge as requested by @kodymareex2 😅

I'm tagging: @kodymareex2 @itsaltzoey @theemeraldchild @lustfulghosts @myosotis-luceae @lithe-lights @ur-average-girlnextdoor @disney-eyes @quite-awful @ztahcsslaskcihcsregnalsnebel and anyone else who wants to do it!!

[bj-cuntycunt]

New Star Trek headcanon: Chekov thinks McCoy is from Georgia (country) and not Georgia (USA) and keeps calling him "neighbor" because Russia's next to Georgia. McCoy is very confused.

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digitally illustrated two panel comic of Martin Blackwood and Jonathan Sims from The Magnus Archives. In the first panel Martin is stood at a counter preparing a cup of tea. He is smiling softly with his eyes closed and a thought bubble next to his head shows a small image of Jon with some hearts around him and text reading "ah... Jon...". The second panel shows Jon sat at his desk with the mug of tea from the first panel in his right hand and papers in his left. He is growing and saying "Martin's such a fucking idiot I hope he dies". End description.]

Stupid season 1 jonmartin dynamic ily forever

[ceilingfan25]

Can you draw Danny Fenton as Chat Noir and Valerie Gray as LadyBug?

I love this kinda crossover!!!!! One of my favorite pass times is taking 2 shows I like and assigning characters roles from the other show, also drawing characters in other characters' outfits, so this was fun to ponder!!

[pixlatedvampire]

hi the literal whole entire reason i made these was bc i watched this 10 sec clip on youtube pls watch

[mediumgayitalian]

A whisp of hair tickles his cheek, following the elbow resting on his shoulder. Lee glances over as Cass swipes the strands back behind her ear.

“So,” she says, very nearly dropping her plate. Lee reaches over and gently tilts it back upright. His sister Does Not notice.

He lets it fall. She doesn’t notice that, either. Rest in peace, Stale Piece of Olive Bread, Single Grape, and Sprig of Parsley (?). You will be missed.

“So,” Lee repeats. He follows her eyes, gaze landing on a frizzy mess of blond curls and vacant blue eyes. “…Ah. So.”

Cass’s fork twirls in the general direction of their new baby brother. Several other people in line at the braziers also look over to where she’s pointing, glance obviously back towards the two of them, leaning close, and then pretend to look away while very clearly straining to hear. What a place, Camp Half-Blood.

“We gotta fix that.”

Lee grunts. She’s right — rarely does he ever see a kid Will’s age so blasé and sad about camp for so long.

But.

The circumstances.

“We already talked to Luke, Cass.”

She waves a hand. Her fork very nearly misses his eye. Lee would like, for once, if she could maybe use perhaps one ounce of her prophetic abilities to be less of a klutz. “Eh, Luke doesn’t know everything. There’s gotta be something he didn’t try, something Will likes. I mean, I think I saw the barest little hint of a smile when Diana was cussing Michael out yesterday.”

“Achlys would smile at that,” Lee argues. “I mean, come on. He got flamed. It was embarrassing.”

“Fair, fair.”

Lee looks back at Will. He still sits at the edge of the Apollo picnic table, chin on the worn-smooth wood, poking vaguely at the food Diana got for him. There’s a decent spread — some of the roast chicken, some of the lemon potatoes, probably more vegetables than any eight year old would be willing to eat, but it’s not like they would know. Will barely eats anything. If it weren’t for the Twizzlers that keep disappearing from Lee’s stash under the floorboards, he would’ve stuck the kid on an IV already. It’s been weeks.

“We could maybe try the weapons rounds again,” Cass murmurs. “I know Luke did it on intake, but maybe —”

She glances over, peeking through the edge of her hair, and cuts herself off, mouth furrowing as she bites the inside of her cheek. The son of Hermes in question leans on one of his younger siblings, grinning as they shriek and complain, laughing as another kid empties out what looks like the entire camp stash of cutlery from her pockets. Lee’s not dumb — he saw the difference, too. There’s no demigod more kind and welcoming and determined than Luke Castellan, Lee knows it, Lee’s experienced it, but —

When Will came up Half-Blood Hill, he was sobbing. He scratched four other demigods trying to squirm his way back to where his mother was running back to her car, shoulders heaving with her own cries, face-tear streaked and laden with guilt as she watched him go. When Will was dragged to the Big House, he was there ‘til nightfall. When Will was placed, as all are, in Hermes, he didn’t leave the cabin for days.

Camp doesn’t usually see that. Luke doesn’t usually see that. And as much as the guy has seen everything, there’s nothing he can handle less than a demigod who desperately wants to go home.

It’s not something anyone brings up.

“We’ll give it a go after dinner,” Lee agrees.

It’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing. It might help to get a tour of what Camp offers by someone a little more…qualified. Or enthusiastic, rather. Will’s eight, after all. What kind of eight-year-old doesn’t want to swing a real sword at a training dummy? Or, hell, at another eight-year-old? Not that there are many other eight-year-olds at camp this lovely April, but Annabeth is like…ten. Lee thinks. Eleven? Something like that. Maybe she’ll swing a sword around with the kid. She only tends to be lethal when someone is doubting her. She’ll probably be very lenient on someone who is just learning.

Well.

Like, one would hope.

Whatever. It’ll sort itself out.

He repeats it to himself as he sits down, plastering a wide smile on his face and meeting Will’s eyes. Will stares back, eyes big and dead, but Lee refuses to look away first, to look down. Eventually Will return his gaze to the brown mush he’s made out of his plate.

“Hi,” he hedges.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Will hums. From beside him, Diana sighs — that is the extent of what they usually get. A little more, actually. The hi was slightly more animated than usual. More like a single two-by-four than a rotting corpse, in terms of spirited greetings.

If Lee is anything, though, it’s annoying and persistent. It’s actually what led to his getting claimed last winter.

“You get something to drink?”

Will shrugs. Lee glances into his cup to see that he has not, in fact, gotten anything to drink.

“They’re enchanted, you know.” He taps his own cup. “Anything you ask for, you get. I get Green Apple Kool-Aid.”

“‘Cus you’re a freak,” Michael mutters. Lee shoves him off the table.

Will scrunches his nose. “…Enchanted cups?”

The look he levels in Lee’s direction is equivalent, he imagines, to the look the jury gave OJ Simpson on his first foray of the witness stand, but the allure of discontinued novelty drinks must be stronger than his suspicion, because he tilts his cup closer to him, thinks for a minute, and then says, “Coke.”

All three of them hold their breath. Even Michael, who is recovering from his recent trip to the ground. The cup slowly fills with sparkling amber liquid.

Will frowns.

“Hey,” he says, something akin to a pout taking over his face, “I asked for coke.”

The drink stops fizzing. It, too, seems to regard the young boy in confusion.

“That would indeed be Coke,” Diana says eventually.

Will scowls. (It is, probably unfortunately for him, a little bit adorable, because his cheeks are very pudgy and he has quite a lot of freckles and his whole face seems to scrunch with the movement. Like a baby hippo. Lee tries really very hard not to smile but it’s something of a losing battle, he thinks.)

“It gave me cola!”

Lee looks at Cass. Cass looks at Lee. Cass looks at Michael, then, and Lee looks at Diana, and they all kind of look at each other and envision the words what the fuck floating between them in wavy comic sans.

“That would be the case,” tries Michael. Lee can see that he tries very hard not to tack ‘you dumbass’ on the end there. Lee pats him on the shoulder in recognition for his efforts.

“I asked for coke!”

“Okay, let’s maybe back up a bit,” Cass thankfully says, before Lee can utter his very eloquent ‘huh’. “What are you asking for, hun?”

“Coke!”

“No, I — I, uh, I got that part.” She purses her lips very thoughtfully. “Are you thinking of, maybe, Diet Coke?”

“No! Regular orange coke!”

“Okay,” mutters Diana. “Okay, awesome, I love it when everything makes sense.”

“Orange coke!” insists Will again. And, like, yeah, they brought this on themselves. When Lee scraped off a portion of his food and prayed for more emotion from Will, he did not specify. He was under the unfortunate misconception that his father loved him and was not a sociopathic genie. That’s on him. But still. “The fruity one! With the orange lid an’ the F on the bottle an’ not the one with no bubbles! The coke one!”

“Are you thinking maybe of Fanta?” Cass says, finally. She makes a weird shape with her fingers. “Odd bottle shape? Neon?”

“Yes!” exclaims Will, visibly relieved. “The orange coke! The good one!”

The cup quickly ripples and changes into a liquid the approximate colour of their shirts, only harder to look at. Will narrows his eyes, drags it over, dips his tongue into it, and then lights up, chugging it down with the zeal and zest Aphrodite kids do cranberry juice.

“One thing they got right up here,” he says happily, wiping the sticky moustache off his top lip. He, for the first time, looks a little less like there is a giant aching hole in the centre of him.

All at once, Lee remembers the one time his mother took him with her to one of her conferences, deep down in Arkansas. They stopped for Wendy’s on the drive. Lee requested Coke. The cashier asked ‘what kind’. Lee stared blankly at her for a total of at least seventeen solid seconds before replying ‘uh, the…Coke…kind?’ and received a large disappointing cup of Sprite.

“Oh my gods,” he says. He now knows, he feels, at least an approximation of the shock Phaethon felt that one time. “You’re Texan.”

None of his siblings share in the euphoria of this realization. This eureka moment, really. Least of all Will, who seems to be wondering if he can, perhaps, put in a request to be claimed by another god with smarter children.

“Lee,” says Cass gently, “have you gotten dumber?”

“No, no, he’s Texan,” Lee repeats. “They’re like. They say weird shit down there.” He gestures at Will, who is rapidly shifting from bewildered to offended. Lee would feel bad if it wasn’t a little bit funny. “Coke means pop. Fixin’ means intending. Might could — actually, I’m not sure what might could means, and at this point I’m too afraid to ask.”

“It means might could!” Will cries. He throws his hands up in exasperation which would be better conveyed where his hands not still pudgy enough to have the little indents on the knuckles. Lee melts to the actual floor. “That’s like askin’ — askin’ what ‘the’ means! It means ‘the’!”

“Oh my gods,” breathes Diana, hand pressed to her mouth. “Oh my gods, he’s adorable.”

“What does ‘might could’ mean, he says! Nex’ thing I’mma hear’s gonna be some stupid Yank quest’n ‘bout y’all, I bet —”

There is a thump as Michael slides right off the bench. This time, Lee doesn’t even need to push him.

“Yank,” he wheezes, from the floor. There are real tears in his eyes. “You’re my favourite, kid, holy fuck —”

Will stomps his little foot. It’s so — tiny. Bite sized. The lights in the sole twinkle like crazy. He’s got Princess Leia on the heels.

Lee is going to melt into goo.

“Who authorized him to be this goddamn cute,” Lee whisper-yells. “Like, genuinely. Look at him.

“Believe me, I’m looking,” Cass says, smiling softly. She knocks their shoulders together, snorting as Will chokes on his own indignity, hollering something about and there’s no such thing as healthy brisket! how about that! til’ his freckly face glows.

“Oh, wait, shit, that’s real,” Lee says. “That’s — yo, he’s actually bioluminescing. Are you seeing this? I am seeing this.”

“Didn’t know that was something we could do,” Diana comments. She grabs her cup, empties it into Michael’s (making a truly — truly — rank concoction of milk and Mountain Dew, Lee physically recoils) and stares at it until it refills.

“Hey, Glowstick.”

Will freezes. The most affronted look Lee has ever seen on a child scrunches his squishy face. Cass coos. Michael starts cackling again.

“Who are you talking to,” Will demands, scowling.

Diana looks at him. She raises her eyebrows.

“You tell me, Johnny Storm.”

“That’s a — that’s a bad reference!”

“Just — here.” Diana slides over the cup before Will can get started again. “Here’s your coke, kid.”

Will squints at the cup for several seconds. Diana holds it out dutifully. Well, for a dutiful seven seconds before her arm gets tired, then she sets it down and moves her hand away.

“Mama says I’m not allowed two cokes in a row,” he says finally.

Lee glances over at Cass. She grimaces back.

Here we go.

Diana just blinks.

“What does your Mama say about throwing stones at people named Clarisse from the roof of the Big House?”

“She never mentioned.”

“Well, we’re allowed to do that here. The rules say you can have two cokes, too, if you want.”

Will screws up his face. He gnaws on his bottom lip. Lee holds his breath.

Finally, he takes the tiniest of little sips.

“I guess two cokes is kind of nice,” he says.

Lee smiles. He reaches over, paying close attention in case Will’s a biter — you never know at Camp Half-Blood — and ruffles the kid’s frizzy curls.

“Some good things about camp, huh?”

Will huffs. “It’s still not great.” He sets his cup down. His soda moustache sits at a firm handlebar. Cass muffles a snort in her hands. “But not bad for a bunch of Yanks.”

Lee decides that he will take that. A stubborn, sarcastic Will is better than a miserable one. They got time. They’ll get there.

Plus, when Michael takes a mindless sip of his Surprise Concoction and sprays it all over Diana’s face, hacking and cussing up a storm, Will even smiles.

Yeah. They might even get there soon.

[u3pxx]

[gavin parents] and i hope you die, i hope we both die

[utterlyazriel]

Oh, that's good to know, darling! I was just worried someone was robbin' you! On the other hand... Would you give us your Arthur Morgan fics recs? Tumblr or ao3? <3 if its not too much trouble!

[rubs my hands together like a devious lil fly] why nonnie i would be delighted to share as i've been far too slack in sharing what i've been reading!! in no particular order <3

the leather and lace series by the oh so talented @photo1030 this one is a big currently twenty five (25!) chaptered fic with that dynamic u hunger for when you play the game... like oof, it hits the spot, it scratches the itch, etc etc big ol chefs kiss from sloane <3

as far as dreams go / part two by @serawritesthings mutual pining my goddamn BELOVED this is a big long juicy fic with that sweet, sweet miscommunication! incredible prose and someone who loves arthur the same way i do i reckon <3

of horses and men by @eaaaazygurl any fic that lets the reader be there for arthur is one i'm gobbling down fr. i actually couldn't believe this beauty doesn't have more notes

the caretaker by @immajustvibehere MY BIG SOFTIEEEE like this guy gets it, the prompt was tasty but the delivery? freakin scrumptious

graphite and gratitude by @bimrsadler oughhh something about this dynamic actually tickles me pink, getting wound up but arthur being the one who easily unwind you like that's the stuff man

salt and pepper by @hihomeghere cos i also eat up any fic that lets me live out the fantasy of grabbing gorgeous arthur morgan by the face and telling him that he's HAWT

same goes for sweet dreams by @cowboydisaster like ough toothrotting fluff actually, what fanfiction was created for, amazing, showstopping, unbeatable, etc etc

give me my sin again by @messrmoonyy we love a little devoted secret relationship.... and sin, we love sin 🙂‍↕️

conflicted spaces by @not-neverland06 WHEWWW a whole ass story to devour, i love love love having a plot to sink my teeth into and the hurt/comfort aspect of the whole thing just sweetens the deal <3

one warm day is all i really need by @threadbearsweater i'll be real with u i don't remember this one off the top of my head BUT i have high standards to have things shelved away in my likes, waiting to be properly rbed, so i trust in my heart its spectacular

ok that's all for now <3 i should really make an effort to do some occasional recs because this was hella fun! thank you for asking nonnie! hopefully you find something new!

mwah x

[sandflakedraws]

u know the thing about watching steven universe is that it permanently makes you want to do fusion designs of whatever blorbos u are rotating.

clears throat. anyway.

here's Holland, a Floyd and Hickory fusion. a sweetheart beau who has complex feelings about his relationship with music, and whose people reading skills has him making fast friends everywhere, but still keeping most people at arm's length.

trying to combine western rockabilly, emo/grunge, and lederhosen in troll proportions. sure is a process

[periwinkle-the-11th]

ngl as a chronic-pain-haver who regularly sorrows over the lack of chronic-pain-comfort-fics, getting into jayvik is doing great things for me.

[giddlygoat]

i have a vision. in my mind, luigi’s fit is a bit more maximalist, and no two leathers or denims match. he deserves more variety in his look.

[basket-of-loquats]

I headcanon kremy as a lightweight. Sure he’s spent his spent his life around booze in the casinos and gamblers dens and what not, but personally he’s always preferred a sensible cigarette over any other kind of substance, and he only drinks very casually or when someone important offers him a toast and it’s rude to say no. It doesn’t take much to get him drunk, and when he is, his carefully constructed suave persona is ruined and he becomes a giddy mess, slurring with an accent so thick that people can’t even tell what he’s saying. Idk idk I just think it’s cute the amount of times he fails the constitution saving throw even when he hasn’t had that much to drink esp compared to the other members

[alastair-1205]

New AU Idea

(Click for better quality I beg lol)

HI HELLO! For the past couple of months me and @childdevourer1 have been losing our minds over and au where Jay became the green ninja instead of Lloyd (we saw that one fun fact about how it was originally gonna be Jay and went fucking feral).

Anyways I made a comic about it. We may write a fic about it one day but for now it's just a lot of strung together ideas.

[hoarah-babylon]

Elden Ring Accents

Something came over me. I've put together a spreadsheet of all ER characters with voice lines and figured out where each accent is from in the hope it could provide insight on the characters, storytelling and worldbuilding choices that went into the game.

It could also be a good resource for creatives in the community that want to get into the worldbuilding aspect of their stories/art and be more accurate with accents and regions.

I've put a little introduction in to give some info and context, as well as some conclusions I came to while putting it together. There's also a map to help visualise :)

Feel free to contact me with any suggestions/corrections, and it's fine to share the link. I hope you find it useful!