Pre-dating, Tim or Bernard not knowing the other isn’t straight
Tim, leaning over to look at Bernard’s phone as they chill in Tim’s bedroom: whatcha doing?
Bernard: imma send Red Robin subtle messages until I trick him into admitting he’s into guys so I can sleep with him
Tim, bi panic, blushing: you’re what?
Bernard, typing out a message on his phone: here how does this sound Tim, ‘gay af to be a detective, what are you inspecting, other men??’, sound subtle enough?
Tim, too dumbfounded to speak:
Bernard: yeah you’re right, it’s perfect, imma send it
*Tims phone goes off, and then both watch it light up, Bernard seeing the message he just sent*
Tim, picking up his phone, typing, and sending a message without saying anything, face nearly bright red as he glances over at Bernard, who is staring at him wide eyed not saying anything
Bernard, looking down at the text Tim sent him back as Red Robin that says, ‘I like you, let’s fuck’:
Bernard: hey Tim I have a couple of questions
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Dc x dp idea 100
John likes to trick beings to getting himself a good deal and screwing the entities over. So he does this with the new ghost king.
He somehow worded the deal to keep the king in his home realm. You know to keep Danny in the infinite realm unable to attack the earthly realm.
This backfires. And backfires hard. Danny’s home realm is still the earthly one. All John did was not let him back into the realm.
Danny is thrilled. And living his best life. No more council meetings, the paperwork is stuck in the keep, the Observants can’t force him to do kingly duties and above all else. He is passing all of his classes. Scheduled fights with his rogues help as well.
John. Well he’s not having a good time. The Observants are screaming at him, the new king is stuck in earth who knows what he is up to, and he’s had visits from all of Danny’s ghost guardians to yell at him.
John has to break the deal.
Danny doesn’t want to.
When Danny eventually agrees to discuss it. He shows up with a ghost lawyer, sam, and Jazz all in order to secure Danny a good deal. Maybe tucker as well.
Danny wants at least rated M and movie tickets for him and his friends for life, and of course Martian manhunters autograph.
Jazz wants him to get a guarantee that they would leave him alone.
Sam wants them to guarantee ghost protection and end the Giw.
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i think gojo's love is complex bc.. in life, as an adult, he ultimately lets geto go.
he allowed geto to walk free for ten years and form his own family. to basically seek happiness elsewhere.
only in their last moments, does he find out geto was still unhappy without him. despite this, gojo's careful not to cling and curse geto to stay with him.
and even after putting him out of his misery, gojo still doesn't grant himself permission to mourn him. bc he most likely handed over geto's body to his family (the people who have been by his side the longest) out of consideration. but even this ultimately comes back to bite him.
in life— gojo has only ever tried to be selfless and nonattached with his love towards geto and yet... this path has only caused him suffering.
only in death— does gojo finally grant himself permission to say what's been in his heart all this time.
he dismisses geto trying to be selfless/the better person (saying he's glad gojo's happy bc of someone else). and says the quiet part out loud— i would only feel complete with you.
only in death does gojo allow himself to be selfish with geto again.
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Sometimes I think about the enowmity of my mistakes, and the pain and suffewing I've caused those closest to me, and I wondew if it's wowth it to continue gowing....
I'm Merobiba!
(Aka I made a Merobiba figure because I am incredibly powerful and no one can stop me)
More pictures:
Also tagging @dilfosaur of drawfee because my roommate told me to, I'm sorry or you're welcome 😅
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As a long time follower, I'm so happy to see Machete's growth as a character. All his old art is amazing in aesthetic, but I feel your art has really fleshed him out as a dynamic person/dog recently. It speaks to how much your art has developed as well.
Ah, that's so sweet of you to say! ;o;
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they’re in the rec room one dreary afternoon, rain is pouring outside, shaking the walls of the base, and all soap really wanted was a cigarette. he’d been stressed, needlessly, helplessly, and now his one healthy means of escapism is gone, too. he’s about ready to explode, pacing the room like a caged animal, muttering senseless complaints and half baked sentences under his breath.
he’s startled out of his back and forth pace by gaz’s hand on his chest. a snarl finds its way to his lips and he has to fight to keep from spewing all the nasty, venomous thoughts that lay behind his lips.
“you need to chill out, mate” gaz drawls, pushing him ever so slightly backwards. his feet follow, trusting, even through his sour disposition.
“think i don’t know that?” he snaps, “i fuckin’ can’t.”
“that’s why i’m here to help. you’re bringing the whole base down, and you’ll wear a hole in the floor with all that stomping around.”
they walk back until soap is knocked onto the ratty sofa that price found god knows where. gaz maneuvers soap’s head to rest on the arm, his muscles wound tight despite being stretched out. he’s angry. angry and confused and he didn’t fucking like the rain, why did it always have to rain?
“ghost.” gaz calls, and soap notices his looming presence for the first time that day. which was a little shocking, considering the fact that soap could (and had, he’d won 70 quid off the stupid bet) pick ghost out in a crowd blindfolded just from the feeling of his stare alone.
soap realizes he might’ve been more out of it than he realized. the embarrassment only makes his blood run hotter.
“this some sort of intervention?” he growled, hands balled into tight fists.
gaz rolls his eyes and leaves, muttering a quiet “good luck with that.” to ghost and patting his shoulder as he passed.
his brain was a mess, he needed to get back up, needed to do something, fucking anything. the restlessness makes his fingers twitch, makes him burn from the inside out, he’s so god damn angry he could burst into flames.
and then ghost flops down right on top of him, and everything but the roiling thunder outside goes quiet. ghost is a big guy, pure muscle with a (very attractive) bit of fat around his middle. he was twice, maybe three times soap’s weight, no matter how much bulk he was putting on.
he’s overwhelmed by the man. his hands and legs are completely pinned. the weight on his chest forces him to take deeper breaths, which, in turn, make his tense muscles relax. the smell of ghost’s shampoo and detergent makes him dizzy, the soft cotton of his balaclava rubs against his cheek, and soap is mortified to find out he’s getting sleepy.
his eyes try to close, but he jerks himself awake each time. ghost is warm. like a big fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dyer, and really after the day he had, who could blame him for letting go for a minute?
“feels nice..” he slurs, eyes slipping shut again, but this time he doesn’t bother prying them back open.
“go to sleep, johnny.” ghost sighs, an exasperated little thing, and soap can feel the vibration of his voice all the way down to the tips of his toes.
he listens, if not only because it was raining outside and he couldn’t smoke a cigarette.
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