#make a cup of tea or something
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Some past fiddlestan? (Like Ford just went through the portal. He gone now. Past. Yk?)
The mystery misery yaoi
#the angst potential is so juicy#I understand why it might not be everyone's cup of tea but I like the idea of them being so 'toxic' for each other (after the portal#incident. if they met before I think they'd be pretty healthy and wholesome)#like. Fidds is already kinda losing it because of the memory gun and Stan is grieving. they're not in a mental state for a relationship#Stan would hit him with his car by accident and then try to gaslight him that 'no that never happened you're imagining things'#and Fidds would be pretending that Stan is actually Ford or trying to use the memory gun on Stan to make him believe he IS Ford#or. my favorite yet. the one I have as 'canon' in my head. they end up in a messy relationship but Fidds thinks Stan is Ford#and in tge end Stan can't keep pretending and he ends things or something#there's also the more 'happy' versions. where Fidds is still sane enough to help Stan work on the portal. I'll make some fanart of it#at least of Fiddleford tending to his burn wound or something. for now take this little doodle (I thought it was funny but what do I know)#ask#not anon#gravity falls#stanley pines#stan pines#fiddleford mcgucket#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#fiddlestan#young fiddleford#young stan pines#young stanley pines#art#fanart#traditional art#misery yaoi#ignore all that it's late I'm tired I don't know what I'm writing
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Appreciation for this art from Zero Year by Greg Capullo and FCO Plascencia, because these kinds of dark but paradoxically vibrant colours are exactly what I'd like to see utilized more in Batman movies/media.
#perhaps not everyone's cup of tea#but something I do like conceptually#and I feel a more colourful gotham makes the rogues fit better idk#bruce wayne#batman zero year#batman#batman comics#dc comics#comic art
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To Make Your Heart Sing (Albert Wesker x ftm!Reader)
3556 words, fluff, hurt/comfort, s.t.a.r.s. wesker, ftm!reader, top surgery mention, coming out, main character injury, soft wesker, established relationship | Fic Directory
some truths are simply hard to tell. still, they must be told
You tried your best to keep things under wraps.
RCPD’s human resources department knew of your ‘condition,’ but the file that landed on Captain Wesker’s desk a year and a half ago mentioned nothing of it. You were just, well, you. And that’s all you needed to be. You were hired and the rest was history.
Or it was supposed to be. Instead, you found yourself getting into the best of trouble. Make no mistake, Captain Wesker intimidated you to no end. Suppose that’s why the first time you turned a corner and the both of you knocked into each other left you a stuttering mess while you tried desperately to help him pick up the stack of paper he’d been holding. The other officers who had been in the adjacent break room had the luxury of watching with bated breath to see him chew you a new one for such a careless mistake.
But he didn’t.
The next was when you’d overcooked your food in the microwave, leading to a loud, wet pop and spaghetti sauce all over the insides of the machine. To your embarrassment, your captain was beside the coffee pot, brow arched just above the rim of his sunglasses as you sputtered and chuckled your apologies for both the mess and the noise.
You could’ve sworn he smiled.
Then there was that day you’d been running late. You called the precinct from your clunky Nokia, begging for forgiveness from your captain. As a peace offering, you offered to bring him coffee from a local shop, stating that it was “so much better than the liquid tar in the break room.” His silence had scared you half to death, but his acceptance carried the strangest hint of amusement. Black with two sugars, he’d told you. When you’d finally arrived and delivered it, he took it directly from you, fingers brushing yours and making your cheeks light up.
That was the first time you’d ever seen more than a miniscule smirk on his face.
Not to mention that time you’d pulled overtime and, upon entering to deliver yet another report, you’d found Wesker with his head resting atop his folded arms on the desk. To this very day, you still had no idea what came over you to retrieve your S.T.A.R.S. jacket from your desk and drape it over his back. You’d returned the next day to find it neatly folded atop your desk with a sticky note that simply said ‘Thank you.’
When the day came that he cornered you in the break room, black coffee with two sugars in hand from another one of your late mornings, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.
“I want to take you on a date.”
Your eyes practically fell out of your head and your cheeks went up in flames. You were stunned. Captain Wesker was into men? Not only that, but he was into you? You didn’t know what to say, what to do– anything. You must have sat there blinking with your mouth agape for minutes before he’d finally just hummed, snagged a napkin and wrote his number down for you.
“If you find it agreeable, call this number later. We can… work out the details then.”
Looking back on it, he seemed just as nervous in that moment as you felt. Not that you could blame him. You figured he must have observed you for a long time to gauge if you’d be receptive to advances from another man, but the risk was still high– rejection, risk of harassment accusations… all sorts of bad outcomes must have been weighing on his mind. But, that night, you called him. Awkward as it had been, you both settled on a restaurant an hour outside of the city to reduce the chances of you two being seen by the others from the station, and the rest? Well, it had progressed slow and steady, but your secret relationship with Captain Wesker, now simply Albert to you when appropriate, had entered its third month.
Which is why you’d grown nervous.
You didn’t know how to tell him. At some point, things would progress beyond warm kisses and tender touches. At some point your… anatomy was going to matter. You wish you would’ve told him before all of this began and saved yourself the potential heartache of losing what had been the sweetest, gentlest relationship you’d ever had. You worried yourself sick about it, always careful never to wear tank tops or shirts bright or thin enough that the tone of your chest scars could show through. Your testosterone shots were easy enough to hide, thankfully.
Albert had been nothing less than a pure gentleman throughout it all, never once pushing your boundaries or showing impatience when you’d shy away from things. Even the night you’d both fallen asleep on your bed consisted of little more than a hand resting atop the small of your back and your face nuzzled against the comforting rise and fall of his chest.
But, try as you might to hide it, Wesker had picked up on your anxieties.
“Have I made you uncomfortable?”
Your heart fell through the floor the night he’d asked that. You swore up and down over and over again that it was nothing he’d done and that you were just dealing with something that you didn’t know how to put into words. He accepted your answer without question, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and continued reading the file he'd brought home from work.
Your mind always turned to thoughts of how you were going to tell him, distracting you at the worst times. Which, of course, put you in a situation where you had no choice in how the truth would come out.
The bulletproof vest had saved your life– for the most part, that is. Gunmen in a hostage situation had released a young girl, sending her out to run toward the blockade. She was to be a message, clearly, because they fired at her as soon as she got close.
You bolted out to cover her, mind devoid of sense the very moment you saw one of the men emerge from the building.
You took two to the chest with the first simply lodging into the center of your vest. The other managed to pierce, embedding in your right pectoral. You’d laid between squad cars and the steps to the bank for god knows how long, shaking fingers applying as much pressure to your wound as you could muster while the sun beat down on you without mercy. The next thing you knew, you were being thrown into an ambulance and given the good stuff, and you woke up after who knows how long in a hospital bed.
Your first visitors were Rebecca and Jill. You’d grown closer with them than most of the others– save for Wesker, of course.
“How are you feeling?”
You simply answer Jill with a lopsided smile and a hum, tipping your head back against the pillow. “Mm, yup.”
“I don’t think the pain meds have worn off yet,” Rebecca giggles from across the room where she inspects the whiteboard covered with hastily scribbled patient information.
“Lucky him. Should let Captain Wesker know he’s at least feeling good when we go back. He’s…” Jill turns to you with a sweet smile, clearly pondering her words. “Distraught is a… is a word for how he is right now..”
That, of course, breaks your heart. He was there when it happened. Albert saw you go down. Silly you, covering the girl they’d released…
Your eyelids grow heavier as time goes by, eventually slipping shut while you bask in their company. When they open again, you’ve got two nurses at your bedside. Even in your dazed state, you can put two and two together. Just a change of bandages…
“Hi, sweetheart!” Chirps the woman closest to you while she peels away tape and gauze. “You bled through so we’re just cleaning you up, okay?”
You simply nod and stare up at the ceiling. It doesn’t hurt, thankfully, and the only thing you feel is cold air on your chest. Part of you shudders. Medical settings could be… complicated with your unique condition. But you try not to anticipate the worst.
Oh how wrong you are.
“You can come in,” says the other nurse. “Just replacing his bandages. We’ll be out in a few.”
The hum in response yanks you from whatever blissful stupor the pain meds had lulled you into and you shoot up in the bed, shocking the nurse tending your wound.
“Careful, baby! You’ll tear your stitches–”
You barely hear her, nor do you feel her hands attempting to coax you back to the bed. You go down, but not before locking eyes with your one and only.
Fuck…
They’ve got the top of your gown off and there’s no way–
You swallow thickly as your throat closes with a wave of shame. You shut your eyes to hide the tears gathering within them, listening intently as Wesker’s nearly silent footsteps come to a halt on the other side of your bed. He sees you. There’s no way he doesn’t. He’ll have questions. Fuck, maybe he’ll just know outright. Wesker’s a smart man…
You should’ve told him.
You keep your eyes screwed shut for what feels like eternity, even after the door clicks and the nurses leave you to each other’s company. Neither of you says a word and it’s nearly pure silence until you hear the drag of a chair. You just about jump out of your skin when his fingertips graze your knuckles, but they don’t retreat. Instead, he takes your hand in his, lifts it, and presses kiss after kiss to it.
Your eyes crack open, vision bleary from tears and clearing as they spill. You find him looking at you with furrowed brows and some painful combination of worry and relief written across his face. His glasses are hooked on his shirt, showing you icy blues with a touch of red in the surrounding scleras.
“How do you feel?” His voice is as calm as ever, but, for once, his expression betrays him.
“Like I got shot,” you rasp. You crack the tiniest smile despite the swirling dread and anxiety filling you to the brim. You observe him for a minute, looking for something, anything to confirm your fears.
You find nothing.
“Indeed,” he hums, lips twitching at the corners. “I’m glad you’re in good spirits despite the tears.”
You give a weepy chuckle that turns to tight sobs. You feel so helpless and pathetic. You’d almost died and now your little secret had been put on wide display for him. Part of you figures this is just the universe’s way of telling you to get on with it. Just finally rip the bandaid off.
You suddenly start to rise from your flat position. Wesker watches you for signs of discomfort, taking his finger off the bed controls only once you were upright and–
Oh fuck– no, no, no!
They hadn’t buttoned your gown earlier. The front section falls forward and you scramble to push it back up, holding it in place as you clench your eyes shut and bite your tongue. His hand leaves yours and your stomach drops, ice shooting through your veins. For a minute, you think he’s leaving, but then–
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Your eyes widen, gaze falling to the hands working to pinch together the little buttons that run along the seam at your shoulder. Wesker leans across you just slightly to repeat the process on the other side. His scent fills your lungs and you can’t help but take a deep, greedy breath, chin quivering all the while.
“Would you like to stay with me while you recover?” He asks softly, taking his seat once more. “Or would you prefer if I stayed with you instead?”
It’s so earnest that you could scream. Part of you wonders if he’s just avoiding the elephant in the room.
“I imagine the comfort of your own home would lend itself better to your recovery,” he continues, taking your hand in his once more. “But I am not averse to either choice.”
“Al, you don’t have to–”
“You’ll need the help.” He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I assume you’ve had restrictions like this before.”
That cold feeling runs through your body again. He’s not avoiding it.
“Yeah…”
And he’s completely right. You will need help. You doubt your restrictions will be as tight as those you had after top surgery, but you did take a bullet to the chest. Two, technically…
“I want you to think about it.” Wesker checks his watch as he speaks, rising from his chair with a small huffed breath. “My break is nearly over, but I’ll try to come by again before visitation hours end. You should rest some more.”
You let your head fall back against the pillow once again, eyes fixed on him as he pushes the chair back to its original spot. Wesker approaches your bedside again, hand raising to rest against the side panel controls.
“Up or down?” He asks, voice soft.
“Mm, somewhere in between please.”
Your eyes lock with his as you descend. That same tenderness still dances in his gaze– the kind he saves for you and you alone. Despite the tendrils of anxiety tugging at your mind, you find such an act soothes you to the core. Wesker breaks eye contact for a split second to glance behind himself, ever the private man he is, and he leans over you. His lips press to your forehead first, warm and soft, and his right hand rises to your cheek to thumb at the curve. He holds that position for a moment, breaking it only to press another to your lips.
“Hm,” he hums, breaking away to glance at the monitor. He chuckles softly. “Your heart rate just jumped.”
Oh god, you think it yourself. You can practically feel your cheeks go up in flames, but you giggle nonetheless at his cheeky little observation. “Well, you know… handsome blonde guys named Albert do that to me.”
He leaves with a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, much to your satisfaction.
They keep you at the hospital for another full day just to be safe. Wesker spent his lunch break with you again, during which he reminded you that he would absolutely be aiding you while you’re under physical restrictions– you need only pick the place. He’d been positive your own home would be better, so that’s what you opted for.
Much to your joy, you weren’t excessively limited. No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity– all the usuals. You were to have two full weeks off before returning to simple desk duty. Wesker picked you up, duffel bag of his necessities already packed in the back seat of his car, and brought you home. Things were stellar until you realized he wanted to do just about every little thing for you, convinced you would cause yourself further harm. Cooking was out of the question, so he made you meals that you could’ve sworn belonged in a gourmet restaurant rather than your little apartment. And laundry? Forget about it. You practically had to wrestle a handful of socks and towels from him so that you could feel less like a deadbeat. Wound care, though… that was where things got tricky. Wesker insisted that he be the one to change your bandages, and he did so twice a day, which was more often than was even recommended.
“I said I would take care of you. What kind of partner would I be if I let you walk around in old bandages, hm?”
It had been hard to let him do it. Despite knowing full well he had a clear view of your chest in the hospital, you were still apprehensive to let him see it again. No questions had been raised in regard to the origin of your scars, but that was somehow worse. For a time, you figured he chalked it up to some sort of wound obtained in the field, but the day came where his hands wandered and a fingertip trailed the line running beneath your left pectoral.
“I…” You try, swallowing thickly to quell your nerves.
“Tell me about them.” Wesker breathes, finger still running along the ridge, pausing over the parts that weren’t quite perfect.
The worst part of everything? You know full well you could just walk away and he’d leave it. Al never pries; he always respects your boundaries. 'No' has always been a complete sentence to him, something you’ve appreciated endlessly in your time together with him. But, all the same, wasn’t it time you gave an inch? The man so endlessly patient and sweet to you, despite how he presents himself to the rest of the world, deserved the truth.
So you spill.
“I’m transgender…” You murmur, words tight in your throat as you stare down to your socked feet. From there, the rest falls free. Every little detail. Childhood woes, adulthood struggles– how happy you were the day you got your very first shot of testosterone and how you felt like you had a new lease on life itself when you woke up from your chest surgery all those years ago. A tear or two escapes you as you tell your tale, but they’re not the bad kind. No… they come from something else entirely. A joy you could never put to words, a cresting wave of pride that you’ve come so far and lived so well despite every bump in the road, a sense of self that felt like wings upon your back… With every story, you find yourself meeting his gaze more often until you’re looking right into those icy blues.
If Albert is dissatisfied with your revelation, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he stands before you and listens intently to every word. Without his glasses, you can see his eyes soften at certain parts, but it's the way his hand doesn’t quite leave from where he’d touched your scar before that keeps you hopeful throughout the entire ordeal.
“And I– I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just…” You exhale hard, eyes dropping with the weaning of that miracle burst of confidence. “Telling people is… difficult.”
“Did you think I would react badly?”
You didn’t expect such a question, let alone for it to be asked so gently. “I… yes and no.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder the way to best explain it to him. “Not everyone is kind about it. I didn’t think– it wasn’t that I thought you’d be mean about it, I just… I didn’t want you to feel like I was lying to you…”
Wesker’s eyes flit to the side for a brief second. “I understand. Though I fail to see how you would’ve lied.”
At that, you let out a breathy little laugh, eyes closing as you shake your head. “So you’re okay with it?” You ask finally, hand rising to rest over his that still lingered at your chest. The anxiety returns and you worry the side of your lower lip between your canines.
“I am,” Wesker hums, offering you perhaps the softest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen grace his face. His free hand reaches for the one that hangs loose by your side, holding it tenderly as he leans forward. At first you think he’s going for a kiss, which you happily prepare for, but he presses his forehead to yours. You allow your eyes to flutter shut, same as him. “I’m afraid you’ve stolen my heart, my dear.” He pauses for a moment, brushing his nose against yours. “You are who you are. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
At that, there’s simply no helping the way you throw yourself at him, arms wrapping around him as tight as you can without agitating your wound. He returns your embrace immediately, palms stroking up and down the length of your back, perfectly warm against your skin.
There’s one last thing to tell him. Something that’s been in your heart for a while now. He deserves every truth from you, and you’re all too happy to give it to the man who assigns you heaps of reports at work and makes your heart sing at home.
“I love you.” You murmur against his collar, smiling big and wide at how his arms tighten around you. “I really, really love you.”
“Good,” he hums. Wesker rests his chin atop your head, swaying slightly as if to music that wasn’t there. “Because I really, really love you, too.”
You giggle at his mimicry, but, in truth, you’re overflowing with joy. It’s as if the sun itself has risen in your chest to hear those words, but that is simply the effect Wesker has on you.
What bliss to know you warm his heart the same.
#albert wesker#albert wesker x reader#albert wesker x you#wesker x reader#wesker x you#resident evil#dead by daylight#dbd#idek if dbd tags apply to stars wesker even though ik he's got the costume in game#idk. anyway#albert wesker fanfiction#i have been sad lately that there's such a lack of fics specifically for trans readers for my character faves. this is the result lol#so here's something#i might end up doing rewrites or adding more. but for now it's something#ik this isn't everyone's cup of tea but i think the gang deserves a lil treat#also if anyone knows the pic source pls lmk#i found it on pinterest but i can't make out the text
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Also hey I wanna say too that pretty much every single headcanon ever is valid. Even if they aren’t popular, even if they go against canon, even if they change on the regular and make for a throughly transformative work.
I think fandom is supposed to be fun and honestly it just acts like a toybox of sorts? With all these malleable characters as action figures that you play with as you like. If you wanna make them bigger or smaller or change their species or what they present as or how they sound or even act - you can! You can and you should!
Have fun, because you’ll inevitably find others who like what you do too. And even if you don’t, as long as you like it, then that’s what matters.
#this is something I’m saying partially to myself too#personally I have a huge problem of wanting to ‘justify’ my headcanons#where I do my damndest to ‘prove’ that what I headcanon is possible in canon#because it personally makes me feel much better and less anxious#but it’s something I gotta move past because sometimes rule of fun is better than canon justification#I still personally prefer to keep close to canon or within the realm of canon for my works#but I think I’ll stop trying to justify every little thing and just have a little more fun with it#but yeah saying right now that even if it’s not my personal cup of tea or something I headcanon myself#I will still fight for people’s right to have fun with these toy box action figures#is there an argument to be made of ‘at some point these characters just become OCs’? yeah but…who cares?#idk this was mostly something for myself to keep in mind but in light of recent events#I think I’ll post it too#also wanna say - don’t attack others for their headcanons#if you don’t like it then block them#remember that there are real people here that you could hurt okay?#the way they connect with a character will inevitably be different than you
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#ts4#the sims 4#ts4 historical#ts4 my sims#wip#I just need to look at this with eyes that are not sore from the whole day behind the monitor#but at this point it's kind of done and I think it looks okay...ish#every damn time I'm trying to make colors 'natural' I end up with 50 shades of brown and green or brownish greenish something#on the other hand hot pink it's just not my cup of tea#test family
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reading part 2 of well of ascension and part 4 of oathbringer at the same time is... an experience
#cosmere#stormlight archive#mistborn#cremposting#i hate zane and his stupid edgelord self so much it's unreal#mostly just reading mistborn for the cosmere lore and to have something to listen to while not getting ahead of my wife in ob#it's not really my cup of tea and brando sando's writing has definitely improved over the years#which makes going back to earlier works...... kinda rough
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despairful day. remember to take comfort in anything that brings you joy. for me, that is Binah. for you, it might also be Binah. that is alright. she has hugs enough for all.
#project moon#lobotomy corporation#library of ruina#binah#binah lobcorp#binah library of ruina#i have sworn to myself that i will keep going#that i will try to have something that sparks delight#it will be difficult#but who will do the things we do#who will make the things we make if we are gone#in troubling times think of everyone you love#binah is there. sitting with a cup of tea#queequeg is waiting patiently to embrace you for she loves the feeling of you in her arms#for those who follow the bus. your coworkers are there too#yi sang is a quiet comforting presence#faust will tell you facts to get your mind off of events#don distracts you with stories. or perhaps she just sits with you and knows what despair feels like#ryoshu will show you how she paints. just this once#meursault is steady and always reliable if you are in need of anything#hong lu messes with your hair however he can with a smile#heathcliff allows you to lean on him. for he is warm and comfortable#ishmael.#rodion paints your nails and offers to help with your outfit. anyone's nails can be painted#the tick of dante's clock is slow and soothing#sinclair can exchange tips to not wallow in nervousness#outis is more lenient. she carves wood did you know?#gregor's not sure what advice to give you. but his voice is calm and soothing#this became long#good. it needed to be
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Older little sketch animatic I forgot to post
Audio from S2 episode 47 - Inside the Actor’s Funeral
#Something about Henry meeting the thing that ruined his family and his first instinct is to make it a cup of tea…#dungeons and daddies#dungeons and dads#digital art#dndads#dndads fanart#dndads spoilers#dndads henry oak#henry oak#henry oak garcia#the doodler
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wow I didn’t think reblogging that tea post and then seeing people’s tags would deal me such strong psychic damage. come over I can fix you I can find a tea you will like. “I don’t like tea” how can you say that as a blanket statement when there are so many vastly different kinds of tea. head in hands
#‘it’s like coffee but not good’#while a cup of black tea does have a great deal less caffeine in it than coffee#it also has a stimulant called l-theanine which is NOT found in coffee#and the more complex combination of the two stimulants hit your system much more slowly#which is why tea doesn’t give you jitters like coffee does#anyone who’s like wow I need my coffee to survive but I hate that it makes me nauseous and gives me heart palpitations and bad breath#to you I say. wean yourself off coffee and onto tea!!!!!!!#but WAIT I can keep going. nauseous? ginger tea. sore throat? peppermint contains menthol which works as a numbing agent#green and black teas are both very high in antioxidants#chamomile and lavender do both have a calming affect#BUT WHAT ABOUT THE TASTE I hear you say#IT TASTES LIKE GRASS. try a floral tea or a black tea or chai or Thai tea#ITS SO BITTER you’re either steeping it for too long or the water you’re using is too hot#not to sound like I’m fucking uncle iroh or something I just apparnerlt have strong thoughts and feelings about tea#I can’t handle ppl going ugh I hate tea and it’s like. overbrewed lipton in microwaved tap water.#anyway MY favorites are jasmine and lavender earl grey#and currently I’m really into this corn silk tea my brother bought me at h mart#it’s like gen mai cha but even more#congrats for making it this far into my tea rant tags. if you comment your tastes I can give you a personalized tea recommendation
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my brain today: brat tamer zayne 😵💫
also my brain today: brat taming rafayel 😵💫😵💫
also also my brain today: sylus mostly ignoring you when you're being a brat, occasionally just giving you an amused chuckle or even provoking you a little, until you apologize and properly beg for his attention that you've wanted all along 😵💫😵💫😵💫
#love and deepspace x reader#GOT THE LADS (get it) ON MY MIND WHAT CAN I SAY#(sorry to the xavier stans but he's not my cup of tea like that 🥺)#i should write something for zayne...... his birthday event has me thinking thoughts#i kinda forgot that i really like him??? with the excitement of getting sylus in the game + my love for rafayel#but he's slowly making his way back to my number two spot 😗#⠀🌀.txt#jo plays lads
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Disco Elysium Gothic and Lolita Tea Party Part 1: Klaasje and The Smoker LET'S GO BABYYYY!!!
I saw people doing EXCELLENT drawings of Harry Du Bois in lolita dresses and I'm obsessed! But why should he be the only one who partakes? What if EVERYONE gets a makeover and they have a big TEA PARTY!
My desk is now COVERED in Gothic and Lolita Bibles. No one is safe. Things are about to get FRILLY and FABULOUS. I did Klassje and The Smoker first at a request from my friend but I have sketched out many more already 3:)
More closeup pictures underneath...
#Disco Elysium Gothic and Lolita Tea Party#yes I know there's no tea depicted here#there are many tea cups in some of the other drawings I promise#my art#disco elysium#klaasje amandou#the smoker on the balcony#yes I'm still obsessed with Disco Elysium#I am having a wonderful time <3#Is it just me or is lolita fashion making a comeback? I hope so! It's so much easier to get stuff shipped from Japan than when I was a YOUT#I wanted to give Klaasje something cute and frilly but not PAGEANTY because been-there-done-that#so I drew something more gothic because it suits her and because I'm BIASED (as a goth)#Anyway they look very stylish but it is now time for me to draw big buff men in frilly dresses <3#I think my favourite sketch so far is Chester and Mack and Jules gossiping and drinking tea#So I guess I'll do that next#I just love these characters so much and this game#Everyone deserves to let loose and wear something FABULOUS!
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"how could anyone ship bloodweave they make no sense at all" did you think about their stories, their motives, their ailments, their shared hobbies, the subtle progression of their relationship throughout the acts, and how very similar they can be despite being different. i know that you didn't but if you had then perhaps you would understand why some people might ship them, especially since a) you can successfully romance them in an origin run thus making it possible, b) astarion already tries flirting with gale unprompted in act 1, and c) you can romance astarion with a good-aligned pc and romance gale with an evil-aligned pc. so, like. what's not clicking
#bloodweave#<- fuck it . look at my post fellow bloodweavers#you don't have to ship it yourself. but to pretend it's so whacky and outrageous and insane and a total crackship.....#cmon. you can easily take crumbs and make something out of it. you can easily take all of these similarities and force them to see them#and act on them in a way that the game doesn't. astarion comes on to him in act 1 and gale comes around later. you can easily#take that and run with it. ascended astarion being super ambitious meets the literal god of ambition.#like..... again.... you don't have to ship it..... but it's not insane lol.#and gale is good-hearted but he Does support some questionable things in the name of power bc thts his blind spot.#i just . You Can Just Say You Don't Personally Like It. that's a fine and dandy thing to say#i very much did not like st3ddi3 but i understood why ppl liked it even if it wasn't my cup of tea.#anyway. it's 3am and tumblr only ever wants to recommend me untagged anti-bw posts instead of actual bw content LMAO 😭😭😭#like girl why did u think i would enjoy that......... how is ur ai this bad bro like cmonnnnnnnnnn
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i think im So Fuckin Funny huh .
#the world of mr plant#twomp#argos twomp#my art#my thought process 4 this post:: ‘ishould draw something making fun of how he always goes hogwild on his tea’#‘make the cup really big . or just make him small . and drinky . HOLYSHIT argos drinkybird im a fucking Genius’#so yeagh . drinkybird guy
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i'm like n1 lecfosa but i have to say some of the anons i've seen in other people's inboxes because they think that charles could've driven better today or that carlos deserved the win....have not been it. if you have an opinion to say, please just post it on your own blog and put your own name to it rather than going to terrorise and spit on someone who doesn't agree with you while retaining the luxury of hiding behind an anonymous icon. or even better, if you're upset, stick to the blogs that you know share your opinions.
#do not give the lecfosi a bad name we may not be particularly ethical people but we are fair#bonus points if you get that reference#but seriously guys......i was as upset as the next person but at the end of the day it's one race and charles is still p2 in the standings#with a suzuka upgrade coming that will make the front pointier#and carlos did win after getting his appendix out literally two weeks ago it is an impressive narrative people are ALLOWED to be impressed#blogs you enjoy can have differing opinions from you and that's okay!#but if you're upset about it there is no reason to send those with differing opinions a barrage of “CHARLES DESERVED BETTER DON'T YOU SEE”#like do i think charles deserved better. yeah. am i going into the inboxes of people happy for carlos and taking that away from them. no#if you have something to say that could be controversial put your name to it#like i'm fully aware my opinions are not everybody's cup of tea and that's okay#i have mutuals i really enjoy content from celebrating carlos and that's also okay end of the day it's a SPORT#if you come into my askbox and tell me that charles leclerc is washed i will be snitty because that's my territory#but the beauty of tumblr is you can curate your space - USE THAT BEAUTY#okay rant over just a psa i have been a little upset seeing some ppl i like content from get upset
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waiter waiter more art of that blonde man bloodied and paralyzed with fear please
#i always know merc is watching through rss feeds so. hi. sorry for being mean to him#when i figure out how to draw him ill draw him having a nice cup of tea or holding a pistachio gently or something to make it up to him#veespeaks
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I mean this in the best, most educational way:
You don’t get a gold star for not liking something.
If a tag, story or trope isn’t your thing, it doesn’t make you better — or more interesting, pure, appropriate, etc.
#we all like things#some of us like different things#just because you hate something someone else like doesn’t make you better#‘oh I don’t read X it’s gross/morally wrong’#do you want a gold star????#why are you telling everyone then?#let people read/write what they want#I’m so tired of seeing this anti shipping / anti tagging bs in literal ao3 tags and summaries#younger readers finding ao3 for the first time: this is not the purity Olympics#sorry end rant#whew#ao3#archive of our own#reading things#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#writing things#writing#if it’s not your cup of tea good!#the tags worked#move along
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