#when the function got

[dsm-wannabe-linguist]

the FBI would be so much more powerful if they were called FBoI

[to-be-loved-by-death]

[irenespring]

Today I would like to shout out that one random Twitter person who made up that JD Vance bragged about fucking a couch.

Imagine making a random shitpost and less than two months later your joke is being used by a major party nominee for Vice President on live television at his introduction rally, earning him thunderous applause.

That poster must be having quite the experience.

[likesdoodling]

Was listening to music after studying today, so I figured I'd draw some tiny maglors to round out the day :)

[itadooori]

lung cancer speedrun strats

[raffi-cat]

black vulture grian

[aardvaark]

all i want from the next episode of leverage redemption is for parker and astrid’s conflict to be played as though it’s a ridiculously intense sibling rivalry. not the whole episode, clearly it’s gonna get a lot more dramatic, but just a couple of comedic moments where parker is seething at having to share her mother figure with her kind-of-ex-nemesis. parker has gotten a little used to being mom’s (sophie’s) favorite child through the years and she does NOT want a new interpol agent sister.

[meli-mouse]

sometimes you going through it so u gotta make ur favorite character go through it too

[doomedtoxicyaoi]

Donquixote Brothers Pain

couldn't stop thinking about that scene in Invincible where Nolan is beating Mark senseless and then notices his face is missing teeth, and he gets a flashback to when Mark was a little kid with a tooth gap. Anyway, since I'm obsessed with these two, I couldn't help but think of something a little similar here. Might reblog this with more thoughts but for now I just have the art.

I tried my best to replicate that one manga panel with the added bit in the anime where he starts smiling. Always thought it was interesting how it flipped the dynamic of Doffy (Who almost always smiles) to frowning really intently while Rocinante looks in pain but then he smiles once he starts talking.

[brodyfoxxsmassivetits]

dumb idiot british teanagerss

:3 meow

tom n jon centric follow up..comic.. doodles..if that tickles ur fancy.. teenaged conflict

[imaredshirt]

Give me a Stan who thinks Fiddleford doesn't know how to throw a punch, much less defend himself in a fight with your average goon, so one morning he takes it upon himself to show the nerd a few basic jabs and hooks and maybe an uppercut or two behind the cabin, because let's face it, there's gonna be a time when Stan can't be there to take a hit for the guy or defend his nerd butt. So he's gonna teach him some stuff for his own peace of mind.

Fiddleford just kind of genially goes along with it, following Stan around the back of the cabin and watching with hands on his hips and a smile as Stan gets into position.

"This is one of the most basic punches in the world, so pay attention, 'cause I'm not gonna show you again," Stan says, knees slightly bent and fists up.

Fidds nods. "You've got my full attention, Stanley."

Stan isn't sure if he's imagining the way Fidds is eyeing him up and down, but he automatically flexes his arms a little more than he needs to. Up ahead, Ford is sitting on a tree stump and taking samples of the air or something (Stan had stopped listening to Ford's explanation once his words went from interesting to Big Science Shit that Stanley Does NOT Care About) and he's watching them with this amused grin, rolling his eyes skyward when Stan won't stop flexing and showing his arms off.

Stan ignores him and rolls his shoulders before jabbing his fists forward in a quick one-two. "There - you catch that?"

Fidds has got his arms crossed now and gives Stan a thumbs up. "Sure did!"

"See, just like this," Stan says, and shows him again despite saying earlier that he wouldn't.

He shows him a few more punches, going over each one a couple times before telling the engineer to mirror him, even getting in close to adjust the guy's scrawny arms and balled fists. He's being real professional about it and everything and doesn't understand why Ford keeps grinning and shaking his head at them, which is making him a little incensed but he stamps it down because Fidds is watching him with this nerdy, dopey smile while letting himself be maneuvered around and he's gotta learn to defend himself 'cause Stan can't stand the thought of some jerkwad wiping that smile off the nerd's face.

"See," he says near the end of the lesson, tapping his fist right against Fidds’s chin. "Do it right and your fist'll hit right here."

Fidds tilts his head a fraction at the touch. "Well alright then, seems easy enough."

"Yeah, like I said, if you do it right. Gimme your hand-" he takes Fidds’s wrist and taps the guy's balled fist against his own stubbly jaw. "Right here. You got that?"

Fidds nods. "Sure do!"

"Good." Stan drops Fidds’s wrist and gets into position again. "Then come on - lay one on me."

Fidds pulls back and blinks at him. "Come again?"

"Hit me!" Stan taps his jaw. "Right here!"

The guy suddenly looks nervous and galnces over at Ford for help. "Hit you? Stanley, I don't think-"

This is what Stan means. Fidds isn't always gonna be able to look to him or Ford to save him. He gets this weird, uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Fidds facing off against some asshat on his own, and that alone is enough to keep him from letting the guys off easy, if only to get rid of the weird feeling. Maybe a bit selfish but he doesn't care.

"Ah, come on, one little punch ain't gonna hurt ya, Fidds."

"I'm not worried about me," Fidds says, and then frowns when Stan barks a laugh.

"You think you're gonna hurt ME?"

Fidds is still frowning when Ford calls over in an amused, warning tone, "This is not a good idea, Stanely!"

"Just worry about your air test or whatever and leave us alone," Stan calls back. Ford shrugs and scribbles something in his journal, and when Stan turns back to Fidds, Fidds is finally getting into position.

He looks unsure, watching Stan nervously as Stan stands before him with his arms crossed.

"Hey, not bad form - you ready?"

"Well, I suppose so," Fidds says, accent coming in a little thicker than before. "Stan, if you're sure, I should probably warn ya-"

"Don't tell me nothing, just punch me!"

Fidds presses his lips into a line and throws his fist - and jabs Stan on the chin just hard enough to tilt Stan's head half an inch to the side.

"That's it?" Stan guffaws and shakes his head. "That was barely a tap!"

"I don't wanna hurt ya!" Fidds says, sounding so conflicted that Stan gets this urge to pull him into a headlock and ruffle his hair and drive the worry away.

Instead he riles him up.

"Please," he says. "Fidds, look - one of these days I'm not gonna be there to take a hit for you, and then what're you gonna do? Just let some jerk punch ya around?"

Fidds looks slightly perplexed. "Where is this all comin from? No, Stanley, I am NOT gonna just let some jerk punch me around."

"Good! So you gotta learn to defend yourself!" Fidds still looks unsure, so Stan tries a different angle. "Okay, how 'bout this - what if some jerks are beating up on me and Ford, huh? You're just gonna let em?"

Fidds looks up. "What? No, I am not!"

"You're gonna defend us?"

"Dangnabbit, Stan - of course I am!"

"Not gonna let us get our teeth kicked out?"

"What!? No!"

"Then show me!" Stan slaps a hand against his own chin. "Right here, come on! I'm some jerk who just threw your friend Stan to the ground and I'm about to kick him in the gut, what're ya gonna-"

The blow lands hard. Stan's head jerks to the side and he's thrown off balance, and he sees actual stars before his vision clears again and he realizes he's crumpled on the ground. His head swims as hands pull him around onto his back.

"Mother o pearl!" Fidds gasps. He's got his hands on Stan's face, careful touch at complete odds with the punch he'd just landed in the same place. "Are you alright? I am so sorry! I hit ya and you weren't even ready and - you just got me so riled up and I tried to tell ya and I shoulda said earlier instead o just lettin ya show me all those moves, but I just wanted to, well - goddangit, Ford, this ain't funny."

Ford's laughing as he comes up behind them, looking down at where Stan is staring kinda dazedly up at Fidds, who's kneeling by his side in the cool grass. "We did try to tell him, Fiddleford."

"Tell me what?" Stan demands. His jaw is already aching but Fidds’s hands feel kinda good so he doesn't tell him to move.

"Fiddleford was a boxing champion back back in his hometown," Ford says.

Stan blinks. "Bwuh-?"

"Not much of a champion," Fidds says with a wince, but he's blushing a bit as he goes on, "It was never anythin official, but - well, I did win more than a few matches at some backyard parties, see, and - well, people usually don't think I got any hittin power or can defend myself, but my Ma's been all too happy to teach me since I was little, and-"

The guy's rambling, and Stan quits being able to understand what he's saying half way through cause the accent is coming in thick and Ford’s chuckling and standing there looking proud of his best friend and Stan’s a little worried that he's still jarred from the hit, cause when he looks at Fidds kneeling there, one hand one Stan's chest and the other bashfully rubbing his neck while he rambles on - he's still seeing stars.

Later, while Stan sits in the living room with an bag of ice in his jaw and Fiddleford sitting next to him, still rambling about all the times he'd knocked a few guys into the mud in some backcountry hoedown get-together or whatever, Stan can lean back and relax and grin, knowing Fidds is gonna be just fine.

He can't wait to teach him wrestling.

[papermariosuggestion]

[toastytrusty]

i really like the idea of post-canon jfj returning to britain because he would just Not be okay. At all. which like obviously. who would be. but he would be so Uniquely not okay. we see through his storytelling and his confession to francis that he is always trying to create for himself a "great gilded life." and i love that phrasing. a Gilded life. because he passes off every horrifying terrible wretched thing that happens to him as a brilliant, daring exploit, and something that makes him Really Cool, actually. he turns every traumatic event he endures into essentially a form of marketing for himself. and their years in the ice are just about as bad as it gets. so what is someone whose primary defense mechanism their entire life's been turning their trauma into glory to do? continue doing that. build a new frame around themself. gild the walls of what they experienced. tell a story. retreat into the belief that you are better because of what happened, that it could not possibly have wounded you so deeply as you fear it did. and yet. and Yet. we saw throughout the entire expedition, but i'd say most especially after franklin died, just how Young james is. it's not obscure history to know he was passed over to lead the expedition because he was too young. and yet he had to lead it anyway, because franklin died like immediately. which was really embarrassing honestly. he had to be a leader and feel the crushing weight of everyone's death and everyone's suffering on top of his own and clearly in the moment he was Not coping well. and he would have to live with that after. obviously the degree to which things impact him would depend on when and how you choose to get them out of the ice, but he, and everyone he was close to there, would remember how undignified and painful it was. he can convince everyone who wasn't there that they were heroic and persevered off of honor and bravery---and doing even this much would require separating himself from everyone who Was on the expedition, because their undeniable and unforgettable suffering would be proof against the validity of his story---and to some extent he can convince Himself, but that all depends on the sensationalization; the dinners and dances and drama. it all depends on the story. and there's only so many times you can tell a story. there's only so many people that will listen. once it's been exhausted to every possible outlet---every newspaper has written about it, every family friend has heard about it---and the years pass, and the sensation dies, what's left? nothing. nothing but the suffocating reality of what you endured and the devastating lonliness you created to put off having to accept it. you are left with a deeply broken man who has completely isolated himself trying to ignore how broken he is. delicious

[itadooori]

quick lil dae-ho thing

[weeklybuckydoodles]

happy birthday bucky! 🎂❤️ (again...we're still in march so it still counts...right? uuuuh)

[vaguely-concerned]

I love getting to hear spite's comments on other spirits and magic in general. like YES my excellent little guy give me the inside scoop here I am so down for this hot goss every time girl tell me everything!!! (also the fact that spite is clearly pretty small fry as spirits go but has such potent scrappy 'HEY hey ASSHOLE yeah that's right down here pal eyes on me anyway FUCK you I'm walkin' here!!!!' energy at every turn is a gift and one I am so grateful to get to receive. a small terrier of the spirit world so ready to square up to anyone and anything right up to the dread wolf himself at the slightest provocation. I love you spite. lucanis' fight response really seceded from his soul in protest after being repressed and disrespected for like 35 years and formed the best weirdest little dude constantly going (ง •̀_•́)ง huh)