The Inherent Homoeroticism Of War Media: A Completely Unserious Presentation By Me

*ignores the fact that Writing's on the Wall is apparently a Bond/Madeleine song, based on the official music video, and thinks 00q thoughts instead*

Maverick’s Dagger Squad:

Caesar’s Dagger Squad:

The french seething about "le wokisme" is such a baffling thought to me. The fuck are you mad about people having pronouns when your fucking bedside table has gendered pronouns. How do you get mad about what other people want to be called when you've lived your whole entire life without ever not even once misgendering a pair of pants.

The Hangster Nightmare Comic!

[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags are HIGHLY appreciated as this took a very long time <3]

Full comic below the cut!

Robert Smithson: Spiral Jetty (1970) location: Rozel Point, Great Salt Lake, Utah

comic i drew during one of the lockdowns in 2020 lol

Tumblr Holidays:

• March 14th: Pi Day

• March 15th: Ides of March

• April 1st: April Fools Day and Mishapocalypse Memorial Day

• April 13th: Homestuck Day

• April 20th: Weed Day

• September 8th: Queen Elizabeth Killed By Sans Undertale Day

• November 5th: Destiel Canon Day

Jake loves the tattoos that adorn Bradley's body.

The origami birds that take flight across his shoulder-blades. A goose, a swan, with a rooster gazing up at them.

The stark lines of the missing man formation of four F-14's, three shooting across his chest, with the fourth arcing up to rest over his heart.

No matter how many times Jake's fingers trace the aged lines of the B-25 Mitchell that rests in the crook of his elbow, Bradley won't explain the choice, only murmurs about it being his first, and that he is going to have it covered up.

He never does. But Jake's favourite, the one his fingers can't stay away from, is the little incomplete hangman figure he comes home with after his last deployment. Five months they spent apart. Five months new ink has been carried on Bradley's hip without Jake's knowledge and investigation. Five months where the spot Jake's hand rests as they settle to sleep has had seven empty spaces for letters. Five months Bradley has waited to play, Sharpie in hand. Counting the dashes, and even taking note of them being split into groups of 5 and 2, Jake still has to try his callsign first. "H" "Not your callsign you egotistical shit." Bradley added a frown on the blank face. "A" _A___ __ "J" "Nope." "K" "Are you using your name now?" "Yes." "No. A leg and two eyes added to the tattoo later, Jake is staring more intently at Bradley's hip than he has at any Bandit and then it dawns on him. MA__Y M_

The smile that stretches across his face hurts. It aches in the best way as he looks up at Bradley, the other pilot's gaze intent on him and not the artwork. "Yes." "That's not a letter." "Still my answer." Plucking the pen from Bradley's unresisting fingers, Jake fills in the missing Rs and the Y, before adding a big YES across Bradley's lower belly.