I would love to write this
Listen - a whodunnit on a yacht with batfam... as the Waynes, esteemed, normal, absolutely not known for any detective work guests at the party, and famous private detective Percules Hoirot (or whatever) on the case.
Bruce, losing his mind by knowing EXACTLY who did it but being unable to SAY anything because this would bust his secret identity, and running interference so that his kids won't bust THEIRS, because what the hell are they doing, kids, just stop.
Tim being impatient (having a date with Bernard later?), and trying to lead Hoirot to the realt culprit by giving some velied tips and leads, and thus landing himself in a position of a main suspect in Hoirot's eyes (who is not as much of an idiot as batfam thinks), as Tim a) seems to know too much, and b) behaves very wierdly
Damian making it a game to see how far he can strech the truth, without outright lying or making stuff up, to implicate Tim further as a main suspect. He's doing great, Horiot eats it up, and if Damian keeps it up Tim WILL throw him off the boat, thus cementing his prime suspect status. Damian is having a time of his life.
Dick and Jason 'befriending' the real killer and toying with him by one just throwing an offhand comments about how the crime was done, and dismissing them. "Oh maybe YOU are the killer, Mr Novak?! Hahaha" "Don't even joke about it Dickie, this guy wouldn't hurt a fly, not to mention kill anyone, even if it was, for, i don't know, inheretance" "you're right, besides it's not like he COULD do it with his AIRTIGHT alibi." "must have been the aliens" "mush have been, Jace".
Grief. The intense sorrow, especially caused by someone's death. No one really prepares you for the mourning of friends. Friends that are still well and alive but aren’t with you. The death of friendships you held so close to heart that you feel a rip in your soul as they pass away. This heartbreak is almost irreparable compared to the fleeting emotions of unrequited love or suppressed depression ; it consumes you in a dark hole of intense loneliness and desperate failure.
I’ve always been envious of people who lived in the time of no technology - a time when passing conversations was enough to connect you: a time where you greet a friend so casually having not seen them for a decade. What happens when old friends meet each other? Did they mutter awkward greetings or welcome each other with soft affection? Or do they simply walk past each other like strangers despite their shared history?
Alfred- I'm not afraid to gut a bitch- Pennyworth
I love how all of the Batman villains are like “ah he’s not at the manor, it’s defenseless! and then alfred just racks an AK-47 and is like pull up bitch
hey don't be sad. deeply silly 18th century Iranian bird scissors.
(source: benaki museum, auction)
Okay fuck it if this post reaches 666k notes by the end of 2023 I'll practise basic self care
Why 666k? Because it's funny and impossible so good fucking luck
here’s a list of links to info on somali grammar. i’ve looked at every link to make sure that the grammar is the same as what i am aware of and they are.
Keep reading
yes
wake up, new ship dynamic just dropped
person A: fuck the rich
person B: *is rich* please
screaming at that video of the girl saying "I am appalled by people comparing things to the Holocaust. Do not use other genocides to compare it to this one." Girl!!!! You said it!!! You said the quiet part out loud!!! You admitted it's a genocide!!!!
do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.
I donated to a gofundme for someone in Gaza. Do you accept those donations for commission?
Yes! Any donation to a cause that isn't bigoted is welcome for comissions. Just send me a message with proof and your request.