I think the funniest dynamic for arranged-marriage royalty would be a queen who came here 100% prepared to murder her future husband and rule as a widow queen in her own right, only to discover that the king is autistic as hell and responds to her wish to rule with "oh thank god please do, I don't want to be bothered by these people. I can just tell them to go bother you instead, if you really want that. I've got beetles I wanted to study."

"I'm really not good at it," the king admits with horrible, aching grief. The country is in disarray. Peasants go hungry. Nobles trade power amongst themselves with impunity.

So the queen takes over and ruthlessly sets things to rights. Fires several generals, hangs nobles, redirects wealth to the peasantry. It isn't long before the first assassination attempt, which she expected.

She did not expect her docile, beetle-obsessed husband to go absolutely feral and fling himself at the assassins wielding a pair of sharp knives.

Reblog if you didn’t write My Immortal

We’re going to find the author by process of elimination.

reblog to give the person you reblogged it from a good night’s sleep (maybe)(please)(I’m begging the universe)

a nice gift for death

(inspired from a fanfic on AO3 - "Inspire In Me, the Desire In Me" by ElloPoppet)

❗⚠️❗ERROR❗⚠️❗

Potato

this user is potato

Reblog if you think a woman can be complete without children

Y’ALL HAVE TIME TO REBLOG THIS. IT TAKES LESS THAN FIVE SECONDS.

Ashley Simone as Kate Sharma in Series 2 of BRIDGERTON

they're besties :D

— KERI HULME

me seeing a mutual's happy post: "hell yeah buddy :)" *hits like*

me seeing a mutual's sad/vent post: "aww no buddy :(" *hits like*

The like button is heart shaped for a reason and the reason is that it means I love you

Reblog to let your followers know that despite your current obsession your previous obsessions still exist and are simply lying dormant until they awaken and strike again

*laughs in 20 fandoms*

Oh, none of them ever go away. One just gets REAL LOUD

#I Just Think He’s Neat

ONE of the most important rules of the Galactic Federation concerns humanity. If a human ever says “Hold my beer”, either stop them, or run.

Two of the most recognized human warships have never fired a shot in anger. Their mere appearance once stopped a genocidal war, and they have been invited on peacekeeping missions simply based on reputation.

The ships’ names: 

UNS Fuck Around And Find Out UNS Hold My Beer

“Sir, there’s a ship approaching!”

“Name?”

“UNS Talk Shit Get Hit, sir.”

“Right, so, we will be abandoning this course of action posthaste—”

The funniest part is, the UNS Hold My Beer was not commissioned as a warship. In fact, the humans still do not consider it a warship.

It was commissioned as a science vessel. However, due to an unfortunate accident involving the onboard particle accelerator and a miscalibrated magnetic coupling, it happens to have the most powerful, and precise, particle cannon in the fleet. Due to the flexibility of the autonomous probes, they function better than any known fighter drones.

But what really, truly strikes fear into the hearts of any who oppose the Hold My Beer is the cackling glee of the scientists on board the ship, who realize that they are at least 60 lightyears from the nearest funding panel or ethics review board.

By contrast, the UNS Fuck Around and Find Out was commissioned as a warship, and as a result has a better reputation as a pure “science” vessel compared to the Hold My Beer.

Those in the Federation who are aware of this irony are known to shrug or employ equivalent gestures and just say “Humans, man.”

The UNS Only Supposed to Blow the Bloody Doors Orf were both alleged to be mining fleet vessels of the United Earth Self Preservation Society

The alleged did more heavy lifting than most of the mining droids aboard either ship.

Instead, it became very quickly apparent, and widely known, that the Dorsov as she became known, was a mining supply tug carrying an unspecified volume of explosives in containers secured along the length of an explosion drive propulsion system that consisted of somewhere between an unfathomable range of fission and fathomable range of fusion events.

It was the single largest unstable chain reaction yet to go off anywhere in the known university. Suffice to say, that when the Dorsov showed up, hanging around was on nobody’s to do list since even sentient planets were known to skip orbit just to be on the safe side.

The ship and crew were credited with stopping several interplanetary wars in a single peace drive across the galaxy, although this couldn’t be confirmed as they were largely drunk and hungover from the Captain’s stag party, and piloting by playing spin the bottle with the steering wheel.

The UNS Consequences of Your Actions is, on paper, the largest cleanup barge ever commissioned. Slow and with zero built-in offensive capabilities, she is a long-range, deep-space vessel meant to keep shipping lanes clean from the unavoidable mishaps that might clutter them with debris.

She is, in fact, better armored than most existing warships, and her engines can run for centuries on a dozen different kinds of energy, all of which her recycling tanks are capable of sifting out to the last ohm. Her tractor intakes can pull in and crush large asteroids, small moons, and the debris of a entire fleet. Or the fleet itself, if it doesn’t get out of the way fast enough. Her mills and ovens, which are meant to grind and sift hundreds of different composites and deliver tidy cubes of baseline elements, are the subject of several galaxy-wide wagers as to the existence of anything, anything at all, that might actually give the grinders pause. The oldest pot is as old as she is, and still unclaimed.

She ate an entire Gavlean minefield, the way a human might sit down of an afternoon and snack on a bowl of spicy red fruit. Then she sedately hunted down and ate the Gavlean mine-seeding ship, like the persistence predator her makers are. They stopped booby-trapping shipping lanes and demanding exorbitant tolls after that, and the Galactic Council received a very apologetic and panicked communique where they promised never to do it again if they would please call her off before she reached their main shipyard. The human emissary placidly sat on that request until she was at the shipyard, blithely crawling past the blinding fire of all their defenses, before making a single call. She turned around, vented a heavy blast of byproduct gas, and went back to work.

nothing will ever be funnier than that bit in agents of shield where coulson says "get ready for a large file transfer" and then shoves an entire filing cabinet out of a 4th story window