#queue post yay

[prettypinkeel]

was looking through predalien stuff and oh my god my daughter is so beautiful I want her back 😢😢😢😢 why you have to die so early in the movie where you have to squint your eyes to see anything

[ponydoodles]

shes like his purse chihuahua

[owlfacenightkit]

These are dumb lol

[proxy-pages]

It takes forever, but thank goodness this update only happens once a year

[sanitaide]

I wish I could see when my followers are most active!

Curse of being finnish, my timezone is so much different from most of my followers ;_;

[crsssie]

and baby, if you knew

word count: 2.1k || pt2 of saying we're just friends

warnings: mentions of the night before (?), morning after, hickies (?)

summary: oh the horrors of getting caught the morning after

You stare at yourself in the mirror, blinking incredulously. (Partially out of pure shock, partially because sleeping with your contacts on was NOT a smart decision on your end)

Holy fuck, Tim got mouthy with you.

You tilt your neck to brush your fingers over the hickeys, gawking at the way it trails down your neck and collar to your chest, the purple popping on your skin. Sure, you weren't half as pale as Tim was, but hello? You didn't even bring concealer. You weren't expecting him to take you to the Wayne Manor. 

"Tim." You swallow, grimacing.

Tim raises a brow, shirt pulled halfway over his head.

"How many hickeys did you give me? Do you have a whisk? Do you have ice? Are you secretly a vampire???"

"One question at a time, lovely." he mumbles. "Seven. There's a whisk and ice downstairs. I am not secretly a vampire, although I can see why you'd guess that."

You blink at him. "Do you have a collared shirt?"

"Just settle for one of my shirts for now." He pulls the shirt over his head, tossing you the other one in the bed. 

"Please tell me it's not sheer."

"It's not."

"Thank GOD you're rich." You mumble. "It's a blessing to have non-sheer white shirts."

"Yeah, I get that." He mumbles. "Come on. Alfred called us for breakfast a little ago."

"Which one of your siblings are here?"

"We'll see." Tim hums, shutting the door to his room. (All of them are downstairs, likely. They were probably having a post-valentine debriefing like they usually do. Bruce was not spared from it.)

You duck behind Tim when you notice everyone having breakfast.

"You said we'll see! Are none of them staying with the people they were out with last night?!"

"It happens every year." Tim hums, holding his hand out for you. "Come on. Don't do the walk of shame."

"Seriously. I run a stan account for you and live in my dorm. I'm practically a hermit." You deadpan. "I am NOT cut out to be meeting your family this early in the morning."

"Master Tim, young miss. Are you ready for breakfast? We are having pancakes."

"Just kidding I would kill for pancakes right now." You mumble, following behind Tim as he sits you next to him.

All eyes are on you as you adjust the collar of your shirt, the tag scratching against your skin, the hickeys on your neck visible. You thank Alfred as he places a plate before you, and you start at the chocolate chip pancakes. Holy shit, fuck the eyes on you, this was heaven.

"Alfred, do you have a recipe book?" You blink at him, eyes wide in admiration. 

"Which recipe would you like, young miss?"

"Oh, all of them if possible. I'd love to be able to cook half as well as you can." You hum, taking another bite of your food. "Do you have a digital copy?"

"Unfortunately, all of it is on paper or in here." He smiles, tapping his brain. "But I am more than willing to provide you with any recipes you may like."

"Mm!" You shove the last piece of the pancake into your mouth, swallowing as you get up. "Tim, do you have a laptop? I want to type a couple recipes down and transcribe what's on paper��"

"Pull open the drawer to your left." He hums.

You pull it open, blinking at him.

"There's a false bottom in it. One of my spare laptops is in it. The password is a combination of letters." He hums.

"With significance?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then I know an approximation, then." You hum, working your finger into the side as you prop it open, pulling his laptop out. "Is it our birthdays?"

"Wait, how did she–" Dick's cut off when you manage to open it on your first try.

"Alright. I'm gonna go! I'll be with Alfred if you need anything." You smile.

"She just?" Duke blinks incredulously. "Did she just hack open your laptop on her first try? Is she in compsci like you?"

"English." Tim grabs a couple pancakes, cutting off a piece of butter. "Creative writing, technically."

"Oh, is she making her own major?"

"Yes." Tim hums. "I don't actually know how she guessed that it would be our birthdays since I only changed it a little while ago. It'd be easier to open if it was just our birthdays combined. Maybe she was stalking me."

"Or, maybe all the years of running a Robin Twitter account finally paid off." Jason shrugs. "She's quite a big writer on the internet too, you know?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "She's quite the character. Have you read her works?"

"I have." Damian speaks up. "Her writing resembles poetry, pulling on the strings of your heart and snapping them at moments you least expect."

"You've read her works?!" Tim raises a brow at Damian. "That's surprising."

"She resembles the poets."

"She'd love to hear that come out of your mouth for sure." Tim mumbles. "Anything else I should know?"

"She covered me for change once while I went to buy cup noodles." Cass mumbles.

"I'm mutuals with her on Twitter?" Steph points.

"Okay, that's not the point. Timmy." Dick deadpans. "Did you sleep with her last night?"

"Sex or just plain sleeping? Because we did both—"

"I DIDN'T GET TO GIVE YOU THE SHOVEL TALK!" Dick cries. "Okay, when a man and a—"

"Dick, I'm well over into the ages of a legal adult." Tim sighs. "Besides, I'm like seventy percent sure that you gave me the shovel talk when you first found out I was dating Ari in high school. Also, I got one from my dad and Bruce, so I think I'm good."

"Oh, right." Dick mumbles. "But still."

Steph pauses. "Does she want a whisk?"

"She was asking for one earlier." Tim hums.

"We'll go help." Cass mumbles, getting out of the seat, dragging Steph.

"Okay, Tim. Is she the one who was making you all red and blushy during Christmas?" Dick slides closer to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Yes." Tim sighs, batting Dick's hand away. "She was."

"How'd you ask her out?"

"Told her if she had nothing to do on Valentine's, then she could stick with me and I could plan a date." Tim reaches for another pancake.

"And she agreed?" Jason snorts. "Wow. She's way out of your league."

"Yeah, but at least I got B's absolutely insane ability to pull." He mumbles. "Pulled way out of my league, for sure."

"If you fumble her I fear the things that will happen to you, Drake." Damian clicks his tongue.

"Do I... know her?"

"Duke," Damian sighs. "You're smarter than this."

"He's messing with you right now." Jason pours himself another cup of coffee. 

"What's your relationship with her." Tim deadpans.

"She used to peer review my poems." He hums. "It didn't click until Damian showed me her information this morning, though."

"You just let them go through my girlfriend's personal information?!" Tim finally looks at Bruce, who only gives him a shrug.

"No harm in knowing a little more about your girlfriend."

"I swear, if you bring her in on the vigilantism—"

"That's not happening. I can promise that." Bruce glances at his almost empty mug. "Does she know?"

"She called me out for being Red Robin last night in the car." Tim sighs. "Besides, it'd be strange if she didn't notice immediately how similar Red Robin and I's voices are."

"She's been running your account for how long... now?" Bruce motions for Jason to pass him the coffee.

"Since middle school, so like..." Tim pauses. "Give or take seven years."

"That's a long time." Dick mumbles. "My longest-running fanpage is only six-ish years." 

"If you count the Gotham Gazette, then I've been running for the longest." Bruce snorts. "Is she the one?"

"I think she is." Tim smiles. "And if she's not..."

"Then I will personally see the end of your life, Drake." Damian grumbles. "I shall have mother adopt her and have her write poetry for me in exchange for a living space and food. She shall be the equivalent of a court poet except to mother and I."

"I honestly think she wouldn't turn that down." Tim grimaces. 

"Is she that desperate?"

"She's joked about sleeping with a millionaire to make some money." Tim grimaces. "Something something desperate situations call for desperate measures."

"She would love it in mother's mansion, then." Damian hums, sipping on his tea. "I shall have her write a poem for your death. It shall be my last mercy."

Tim grimaces. "What if she breaks up with me?"

"Then you're in the fault, obviously." Jason mumbles, looking at his phone. 

"So it's my fault regardless of what happens?"

"Listen, her tweets are unhinged. You can't say you like crazy girls and then get annoyed when you date one and she acts insane." Jason grumbles.

"He's got a point, Timmers." Dick hums. "I hope it works out for the best, regardless of the ending."

"Twenty bucks they are endgame." Damian mumbles.

"Alfred bet ten that Tim would pop the ring."

"Ugh, come on. You know no one out-bets Alfred." Dick groans. "Did he set up the jar?"

"He did. This morning." Duke hums. "I put my bet in too."

"Come on–"

"You can't say shit when you bet on all of our relationships and pretty much came out unscathed in all of them." Jason glares. "Shut it."

Tim rolls his eyes, surrendering himself to the idea that his relationship would get bet on. 

"Tim, can I marry your sisters?" You come out of the kitchen, eyes sparkling.

"We're dating." He sighs. "Pretty bird—"

"EWWWWWWW" A mixture of faked hurls and gags are heard in unison as Tim rolls his eyes. 

"Ignore them. Why do you want my sisters?"

"The hickeys are all," You pull your shirt down too to show your cleavage, the hickeys no longer visible, "gone! Your sisters are really good at this."

"Yeah..." Tim sighs, reaching to pull your shirt back up. "Steph isn't my sister, by the way."

"Oh, yes, I know." You smile. "After all, if she was, it'd be strange that you've dated her before." 

Tim chokes on the air at your statement.

"Besides, she's my mutual." You hum. "I also got Alfred's recipes, by the way." You hum, smile on your face. "I also got his chocolate chip cookie recipe, though I need to figure out what the secret ingredient is."

"A dash of vanilla extract." Tim lowers his voice. "Don't tell the rest of the family."

"Got it." You give him a thumbs up. 

"Do you cook?" Damian speaks up.

"I do! Mainly ethnic foods, since there isn't much of that here in Gotham." You mumble. "Got any good Chinese places?"

"Oh, there's this place on Seventh Ave and Jester." Bruce speaks up. "I used to get dim sum there. It's only open from eight to twelve, and you need to get in via reservation. Feel free to borrow my name whenever. Just make sure to invite me."

"Uncle Dan's, right?" You beam. "I went there a while back with another friend, but I miss like... the dim sum that's messy and chaotic in the morning."

"Oh, then try the one on Lightbeam." Dick pauses. "Ah, what was the other street?"

"Oh, that one's good." Duke agrees. "Sam Woo's Dim Sum and BBQ."

"I've had that too!" You smile. "They're good, just quite a while from the university."

"If you really want something good," Cass speaks up from behind you, "try Jin."

"Jin?"

"It's smaller, but it's family-run, and it's been doing business in Gotham for three generations already." Cass hums. "They're called Jin, but the Chinese character for gold. They're right by Gotham U too. On the corner by Circle K."

"The sketchy looking alley??" You blink.

"Yes, but their dumplings are to die for." She pauses. "And they sell in bulk if you want to boil any in your dorm."

"Tim, I want your sister."

"Pretty bird, we just started going out." He clicks his tongue. 

"Tim, if you break her heart, I will date her." Cass blinks.

"You can visit her when she stays in mother's mansion."

"Hm?" You turn to blink at Damian.

"Ignore him—"

"Should you and Drake break up, I have already arranged your living arrangements, should you agree to it."

"And what might they be?" You hand the laptop to Tim, pointing at the document you shared with yourself.

"With my mother. Your only job shall be to write poems and short stories to entertain her."

"Living and writing for the Talia Al Ghul? Count me in." You sigh dreamily. 

"Alright." Tim shuts the laptop after changing the password. "We're going to get going before her roommate calls the cops on her."

"Oh, right!" You mumble. "It was a pleasure meeting you all! I hope to see you again sometime?"

"Tim, send her number in the chat later!" Dick calls as Tim pulls you out.

"Sorry, they're quite embarrassing." Tim mumbles.

"They're warm." You smile. "I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." 

Tim sighs in relief at the look of fondness on your face. Right.

You'll be fine.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Another hella specific scenario that caters to me and like maybe one other follower:

Platonic friendship between an old Vulcan and a young Human that always strikes everyone as odd because the Vulcan is like their version of crotchety old person and the Human, although they don’t go out of their way to be social, is a bubbly and sweet person

And so everyone’s just confused because ?? those two?? friends??, so more people start investigating and they notice more odd stuff, stuff like:

• the Vulcan’s actually better at social situations and will instruct the Human on how to get through them (??)

• the Human speaks v literally at times and will get confused by stuff other Human crewmates have no problem understanding, and the Vulcan will explain it to them

• the Human is actually even more of a stickler for protocol and rules than the Vulcan is

• the ship had gotten pretty trashed in a fight once and when it got fixed the computer voice got updated and it’s artificial personality changed a tiny bit and the Human was in tears over it for weeks because their “friend” was gone despite no deaths being reported from the fight

So obviously rumors get spread around that the Human isn’t actually Human and is some kind of android made by the Vulcan for whatever reason (why a young bubbly cute human???)

But of course that’s not what’s actually happening, the Human is just autistic and finds the Vulcan to be the easiest to communicate with

(Also there’s some time traveling shenanigans, the Human isn’t up to date on all this new stuff so the Vulcan informs them on everything, I also like the age differences because maybe the Human isn’t that far from their time, and the Vulcan is just so old that they’re technically from around the same birth year, which adds fuel to the fire because “what do you mean you’re the same age?? humans don’t live that long and that is definitely a young human??”)

[probablygayattorneys]

And in the death of her reputation,

She felt truly alive.

(why she disappeared - taylor swift)

Dedicated to @memories-break-our-fall, who without the encouragement of, this gifset would not exist

[justgotawesome]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

[t00thpasteface]

had a category 5 ezio moment last night. brace for impact

[lesbiandemondaddy]

Pictures challenge day 1 - In sunglasses

[castawavy]

quick refresh

before / next

[onlyzhuyilong]

Original idea of “lemme go through his filmography to make an edit for his birthday of all his works” only to remember…the man has over 65 roles throughout his entire career so far so help me Fen’Harel … this edit thingy will be a brief summary of a highlights of some his works because sir is a very busy hardworking man and good for him but also phew.

[wildflowercryptid]

welcome to my blog! ✨ — here's a few things about me!

my name is mj, but you can also call me midge, jamie, or cryptid.

i'm 26 years old, born oct. 5th.

i'm a demiromantic bisexual and transmasc nonbinary. my pronouns are they / them.

i'm white and based out of the usa.

i have autism + adhd so i can get pretty intense when it comes to my special interests. i also hope from different hyperfixations regularly.

i'm a freelance illustrator with a strong interest in character design and visual development, which i'm trying to build a portfolio in-between my ever-changing interests and current day job. my art tag is 🎨 : mj draws.

you can find out more about me on my carrd!

current interest / hyperfixation — osomatsu-san, which i post about on my sideblog @flowerakatsuka.

currently, my blog is mainly run on a queue. i have a lot of interests so i post and share a variety of things on here, but i try to tag everything accordingly. please let me know if you need anything tagged so you can blacklist it!

free palestine! you can find different ways to support those affected by the ongoing genocide in gaza by checking out operation olive branch's linktr.ee. i also reblog vetted fundraisers you can support, which can under my psa & important tags.

credits — artwork from yokohama kaidashi kikou by hitoshi ashinano

[zenia62]

Letter from Daendels to Schimmelpenninck (28 October 1802)

Translation might not be very accurate as I'm only using google translate 🌙

My dear Schimmelpenninck. I have been informed of your arrival in Paris by C. [de] Vos [van Steenwijk], and I hasten to report to you the present state of affairs. Of all the assurances made to you concerning the army, nothing has come of it so far. Instead of hearing us, Dumonceau and I have been made to submit a memorandum of grievances, on which no disposition has been made, and in the meantime they continue to dispose of the army further; our secretaries have been dismissed, and the salaries of our staffs have been reduced by eight, six and four hundred guilders. In politics things are going a little less badly, and one can see from all the actions that there is a rod for the chimney feared, but that is precisely why all possible means are used to preoccupy everyone against the man who, in my opinion, is the only one who can once again bring peace, unity and prosperity to our country. The foreigners play a great part in this, and they are even helped by those among our people who seek a higher flight. In a word, things are going so differently that it will look miserable if one ever seriously thinks about simplifying our state machine. In addition, some old Orange Regents are beginning to pay court to the French, and pretend that they have a complete aversion to the English, because of their behavior towards the Stadtholder, while our most respectable patriots completely ignore the French ambassador, which is why he calls them balancers, with whom it is impossible to deal, who pass between England and France and have the chimeric ideas of wanting to make their country independent of everyone. While I observe and consider these matters, I sit perfectly still, look at the members of the State Government, Sémonville and the principal members of the opposition party, but carefully refrain from giving any pretext, much less any reason, for displeasure. Dumonceau immediately returned to Groningen, but I went to Hattem to pick up my wife, who plans to spend a few weeks here...