fake ass idgafer. I saw you gazing off into the distance like you were looking at something far away, something no one else could see but you
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Friendly reminder that you should
Write that fic
Draw your OC
Redesign that blorbo
Plan that comic how you want
Create the content you want to see
Be cringe
Be free
The only thing that matters is you having fun! Not what others think!
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Listen, there's no secret mankind won't one day know and perhaps regret knowing
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I love the “Mumbo’s some kind of supernatural creature” headcanons, and I love the “Mumbo’s just a guy” headcanons, but may I propose: “everyone thinks Mumbo is some sort of creature thing but he’s actually just a bit strange”
“His eyes are so red they basically glow!” My guy inhales enough redstone to power a small machine on the daily.
“He’s nocturnal! He’s always up at night!” Insomnia.
“It’s like he teleports! He just appears behind people” he’s just naturally very quiet and people don’t hear him walking up.
“He knows so many random facts, there has to have been around for ages to learn all that” he’s just a nerd.
Mumbo gets nervous anytime someone tries to interrogate him, making the hermits even more suspicious, but in actuality he’s just worried they’ll be disappointed and he’s starting to realise they probably won’t believe him no matter what answer he gives.
There’s a server-wide bet going for who can figure out what he actually is. Grian, who’s known him for years and knows full well that’s he’s 100% mortal and human, shows up and starts egging the hermits on by “dropping hints” as to what he may be, much to Mumbo’s dismay. Grian thinks the bet is utterly hilarious.
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Thinking of Ghost carting around a tiny notebook, it’s basically a keychain that hangs from his belt loop. The kicker? It’s cute. Like, uncharacteristically so, for a man like Ghost that is.
It’s fucking pink. With goddamn glitter and a cat on it. With a small, pink pen to match!
Everyone who’s seen the keychain all think they’re having a damn stroke seeing the stupid thing for the first time. It’s so small, like if was meant for a kid, so what the hell is a Lieutenant doing with a fucking keychain notebook?
The purpose is debated to this day. To keep track of all he kills in the field? Marking losses? Reminders for the future? Fucking journaling his feelings?? No one even know if Ghost ever uses it, but are well aware that the man is strangely protective of his notebook, like some sort of rabid dog. snapping at anyone who tries to take it, and god forbid someone touches it. At least they know he’s aware of the pink notebook.
But the real reason Ghost even has it? Why would he even carry such a dainty, childish thing like that? How could he even manage to write so small with such large, almost clumsy fingers?
It’s where he writes his jokes.
It’s his fucking personal joke book.
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Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)
Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.
He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)
Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.
(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)
So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!
Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.
With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.
Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!
It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.
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To you, my dear audience, I dedicate my performance... I wonder,
гРł ฿Ɽł₦₲ ₳ Ⱡł₮₮ⱠɆ ₥ØⱤɆ JØɎ ł₦₮Ø ɎØɄⱤ ⱠłVɆ₴?
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