Tucked


                    
                    
                

                

                

            

        
    







            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    

                        


	

	
    

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    Tucked: Lil reaper gets tucked into bed [OC]
    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Tucked: Lil reaper gets tucked into bed [OC]
                
            

            
            
Lil reaper gets tucked into bed [OC]

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    Tucked: RANT
 ian
 CUISINE FRANPAISE
queeranarchism:

yourdarlingdaisy916:

idkmybffphil:


looklikewolf:

irate-badfem-harpy:


aliaitee:

mboy-mlm:

the-claire-bitch-project:

thepunksink:

the-big-phan-theory:

doyounoelyourenemy:

sidvintage:

motherfuckin-pajamas:

deadkennedysandattractivemen:

A punk stops during a gay pride parade to allow a mesmerized child to touch his jacket spikes.

I lost control about reblogging this picture. 

and this is the perfect “fuck you” to people who stereotype people like this. 

literally one of my favourite pictures ever

nothing more punk than letting small children touch your clothes spikes or hair spikes

If you think punks would miss the opportunity to be a good fucking human to kids you don’t know much about punks

Being nice to kids is literally the number one punk activity


THIS IS THE SAME DUDE

BITCH NO WAYYYY




I have a vivid memory of being about 14 and seeing a hardcore punk walking down the street in a busy shopping district with a tiny white kitten tucked in his leather jacket. That’s goals.

one of my favorite memories is my first punk show and how welcoming and friendly everyone was. I was 9 and my brother brought me and people were putting me on their shoulders and telling me about where they got their clothes or how much a little punk I was.


I love punk culture because from the outside it looks aggressive and harsh. But once you realize that’s just their armour and that they are kinder and more proactive about human rights than the “nice” looking people you get comfort from their presence.  
Not all things that look aggressive are aggressive. Not all things that look safe are safe. 

Punk is safe BECAUSE it is aggressive. Punk - when done right - kicks out fascists and rapists, defends communities, fights injustice. All of which require aggression. 

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Tucked: RANT
 ian
 CUISINE FRANPAISE
queeranarchism:

yourdarlingdaisy916:

idkmybffphil:


looklikewolf:

irate-badfem-harpy:


aliaitee:

mboy-mlm:

the-claire-bitch-project:

thepunksink:

the-big-phan-theory:

doyounoelyourenemy:

sidvintage:

motherfuckin-pajamas:

deadkennedysandattractivemen:

A punk stops during a gay pride parade to allow a mesmerized child to touch his jacket spikes.

I lost control about reblogging this picture. 

and this is the perfect “fuck you” to people who stereotype people like this. 

literally one of my favourite pictures ever

nothing more punk than letting small children touch your clothes spikes or hair spikes

If you think punks would miss the opportunity to be a good fucking human to kids you don’t know much about punks

Being nice to kids is literally the number one punk activity


THIS IS THE SAME DUDE

BITCH NO WAYYYY




I have a vivid memory of being about 14 and seeing a hardcore punk walking down the street in a busy shopping district with a tiny white kitten tucked in his leather jacket. That’s goals.

one of my favorite memories is my first punk show and how welcoming and friendly everyone was. I was 9 and my brother brought me and people were putting me on their shoulders and telling me about where they got their clothes or how much a little punk I was.


I love punk culture because from the outside it looks aggressive and harsh. But once you realize that’s just their armour and that they are kinder and more proactive about human rights than the “nice” looking people you get comfort from their presence.  
Not all things that look aggressive are aggressive. Not all things that look safe are safe. 

Punk is safe BECAUSE it is aggressive. Punk - when done right - kicks out fascists and rapists, defends communities, fights injustice. All of which require aggression. 

                
            

            
            
queeranarchism:

yourdarlingdaisy916:

idkmybffphil:


looklikewolf:

irate-badfem-harpy:


aliaitee:

mboy-mlm:

the-claire-bitch-projec...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    Tucked: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Tucked: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

                
            

            
            
thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejor...

            
            
        

    



        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            






        

        
        

            







    Tucked: LIBRARIAN HUMOR
 ISEE WHAT
 YOU DID THERE
 0
dracophile:

randomthingieshere:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

forthefuns:

follow forthefuns for more funny stuff

Your honor! Please direct your attention towards the manga.As you can see there are small pieces of paper sticking out of every volume.But no such paper is sticking out of the Batman comic.The reason? The Batman book doesn’t belong to the library. The photographer put it there to take a picture.

Once again making hasty assumptions, Wright?First of all, I’d like to direct the court’s attention to this particular spot, in the top right-hand corner.Notice how the words are blocking the top of the Batman book.With this in mind, how can you claim that there is “no such paper sticking out of the Batman comic”?!

Say whaaaat?Well uhmLook at the size of the paper pieces, they’re all sticking pretty far out.If there was paper in the batman comic, it would be big enough to stick up over the text.And while gravity does exist, it probably won’t make the paper do a 90 degree turn and just lean horisontally left at the middle.Still grasping for straws, Wright?Hypothetically, if there were a paper there, this picture would not be able to prove its presence. I’ve taken the liberty of drawing a diagram to illustrate my point. We are faced with three possibilities. It is possible that (1) the paper was simply tucked in deeper than the others.Paper is a soft material, Wright. It’s not unreasonable for it to do a (2) 90 degree turn. Or perhaps, (3) a paper does not exist there at all. Either way, you cannot prove your client innocent without sufficient evidence.  

Which, of course, is impossible thanks to the obtrusive words.



I’m sorry Edgeworth.I concede that I can’t disprove theory 1But the image you submited for theory 2 is contradictory.Look at the tilt of the other papers. They clearly prove how much the paper would tilt.And theory 3 is my point! Why would the library’s book not have this piece of paper when the other library books do?While you still have thory 1, there is another contradiction.The books are not in alphabetical order, this proves that the batman comic was placed there specifically for the picture!

Ack.(Perhaps I should’ve left the artistry to the forensic artist…)Now hold it right there! It doesn’t matter which direction the paper is going because it’s impossible to prove it even exists!Those theories are all the same! We do not have enough information to prove them. There could be an infinite amount of papers in there for all we know. I simply presented them only so that the court could better understand your baseless conjecture!… I suppose the order of the books do seem out of the ordinary. However, therein lies not just one possibility. Clearly, those are Japanese graphic novels, also known as “manga”. And the Batman comic book is a graphic novel, too, no?Seeing as it currently has only graphic novels in the shelf, it is possible that any other novels have simply not yet been restocked. Asserting whether or not this effect was deliberate is useless– there is no way of knowing if the photographer and the captioner are the same person, let alone their involvement in this picture.Face it Wright, you can’t prove any of these groundless accusations!

Did everyone just ignore the library sticker?


    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        

            
            

                
                Tucked: LIBRARIAN HUMOR
 ISEE WHAT
 YOU DID THERE
 0
dracophile:

randomthingieshere:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

forthefuns:

follow forthefuns for more funny stuff

Your honor! Please direct your attention towards the manga.As you can see there are small pieces of paper sticking out of every volume.But no such paper is sticking out of the Batman comic.The reason? The Batman book doesn’t belong to the library. The photographer put it there to take a picture.

Once again making hasty assumptions, Wright?First of all, I’d like to direct the court’s attention to this particular spot, in the top right-hand corner.Notice how the words are blocking the top of the Batman book.With this in mind, how can you claim that there is “no such paper sticking out of the Batman comic”?!

Say whaaaat?Well uhmLook at the size of the paper pieces, they’re all sticking pretty far out.If there was paper in the batman comic, it would be big enough to stick up over the text.And while gravity does exist, it probably won’t make the paper do a 90 degree turn and just lean horisontally left at the middle.Still grasping for straws, Wright?Hypothetically, if there were a paper there, this picture would not be able to prove its presence. I’ve taken the liberty of drawing a diagram to illustrate my point. We are faced with three possibilities. It is possible that (1) the paper was simply tucked in deeper than the others.Paper is a soft material, Wright. It’s not unreasonable for it to do a (2) 90 degree turn. Or perhaps, (3) a paper does not exist there at all. Either way, you cannot prove your client innocent without sufficient evidence.  

Which, of course, is impossible thanks to the obtrusive words.



I’m sorry Edgeworth.I concede that I can’t disprove theory 1But the image you submited for theory 2 is contradictory.Look at the tilt of the other papers. They clearly prove how much the paper would tilt.And theory 3 is my point! Why would the library’s book not have this piece of paper when the other library books do?While you still have thory 1, there is another contradiction.The books are not in alphabetical order, this proves that the batman comic was placed there specifically for the picture!

Ack.(Perhaps I should’ve left the artistry to the forensic artist…)Now hold it right there! It doesn’t matter which direction the paper is going because it’s impossible to prove it even exists!Those theories are all the same! We do not have enough information to prove them. There could be an infinite amount of papers in there for all we know. I simply presented them only so that the court could better understand your baseless conjecture!… I suppose the order of the books do seem out of the ordinary. However, therein lies not just one possibility. Clearly, those are Japanese graphic novels, also known as “manga”. And the Batman comic book is a graphic novel, too, no?Seeing as it currently has only graphic novels in the shelf, it is possible that any other novels have simply not yet been restocked. Asserting whether or not this effect was deliberate is useless– there is no way of knowing if the photographer and the captioner are the same person, let alone their involvement in this picture.Face it Wright, you can’t prove any of these groundless accusations!

Did everyone just ignore the library sticker?


                
            

            
            
dracophile:

randomthingieshere:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

pheenixwright:

invenblocker:

forthefuns...