i find it funny how both tommy and tubbo had very little understanding of their canon counterparts and kinda just went with the flow and while doing so they created two of the most tragic characters i’ve ever seen and i think that is simply beautiful
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"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.
Dick stares at him. "Huh."
"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.
"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.
Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—
Huh.
"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.
Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."
Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.
In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."
And Dick understands.
Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.
"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."
Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."
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*laughs nervously* Izzy? Dead and gone for good? Naaaah, of course not, he’s just in the gravy basket…or on his way to get sea witch necromancied back by seagull Buttons. He’s ok, he’ll be back…he’ll totally be back 🥲.
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Could I request Medic having The Mom Grip on Scout’s shoulder after the speedy moron almost let a mercenary secret slip while they weee getting groceries?
Three Europeans and two Americans walk into a grocery store in New Mexico.
I hope this is the right meme.
More silliness below.
This comic is the antithesis of the "wtf is a kilometre" joke.
The faces they make when they can't quite identify the type of brown bread in the bread aisle.
You don't know how [insert nationality here] you are until you go overseas and things are different.
Spy obviously has no problems with pretending to know how much a gallon of milk is, he just peeks into his conversion chart notes, pretending it's his shopping list.
I want to think Heavy is completely fine with having to readjust to a new unit system, he just eyeballs most practical things anyways by holding them up and mumbling about how they approximately weigh like a chicken or his kettle bell etc. He's always been living in practical ignorant bliss.
Medic has a peer reviewed meltdown the first time he realises there's no uniformity in "a cup of ____" because every object has different densities. He's diligent about memorising the conversion rates for ounces, pounds, the most common things etc., and recovers ok. He goes through the same stages of grief rage when he finds out about distances and lengths.
Just remember four inches are 10.16 cm and pray no one asks you to specify anything bigger than inches.
Everyone does a mental victory lap when they manage to guess how much Celsius the weather is because they keep forgetting it's Celsius*5/9+32=Fahrenheit, Engineer reminds them patiently.
The true victories are the correct temperature guesses we've made along the way.
One time, a friend asked me if I actually knew how much a tablespoon of flour was in gramms to convince me that metric users also make use of volume based units without thinking about them. But little did she know a heaped spoonful of 405 flour is about 15g and a level tablespoon is 10g.
They claim Oolong just tastes better when it's boiled to 80°C exactly with a Bunsen burner.
You only asked for one scene but somehow I came up with a bunch of other things. This post was drawn across 2 months so the artstyle is all over the place. Thanks for your ask!
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So much of Garak as a person starts to make sense once you know his childhood was a fucking gothic novel. His main playground was a graveyard and he'd play pretend by perfoming improv eulogies to an imagined audience. For a long time his main touchstone for most important figures from recent history is 'oh yeah I know about that guy my dad buried him. great flower arrangements for that one'. He finds out later his 'parents' are actually a brother and sister who had to get married to avoid the utter shame and social devastation of having a child born out of wedlock, and they live in the basement of his biological father's house. (the madwoman in the attic vs. the tiny elim in the basement.) His biological father calls himself his uncle and locks him in a closet whenever he fails to live up to his insane and unpredictable expectations and everyone just has to act like that's normal and expected, and his will hangs over everything at all times, unseen but always felt keener than anything else. The father who actually raised him grows the world's most beautiful (and as it turns out, most poisonous) orchids and keeps the mask of a god hidden in a box in his work shed. Everyone in the house is choking down secrets like it's the only air they know how to breathe anymore.
What I'm saying is that right from the get-go this guy never had the faintest shot at turning out normal, so I'm glad that by middle age he's found a way to get a bit silly with it as he continues to be deeply deeply not normal about anything ever <3
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The one tiny gesture that is still on my mind is Edwin fixing the collar of Charles' coat when he's trying to console him about being a good person. I always think of Rexstrew talking about in interviews how Edwin would have grown up in a time where any showing of affection would have been frowned upon. He's doing the absolute most for Charles in that scene within the boundaries of what he thinks are still acceptable. No damn wonder he froze when Charles reciprocates the gesture with the most heartfelt, thankful hug.
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