#exploding cigars

[j-lo-ker]

Are those Cubans?

[johnnycrass]

if ur smoking weed right now i hope the fan falls on you

[artifeast]

HUGS!!!!!

[radarchives]

[deadpoolsmom]

I love that Crocodile managed to get his whole fit back (in the all black goth edition), fresh hair gel and big jacket included, in Newkama Land because it implies the Newkama had a selection of butch fashions available

and from that there had to be a population of butches (and drag kings) and they were only not depicted due to cowardice (😔)

[gummidon]

Smoke

[bobbydidmytaxes]

[What if...? (1989) #65]

Scotty no 😭

[rosemaze-reveries]

wip //

Fellow’s eyes remain firmly fixed on yours. You’ve seen this spell take place many times before, and you know exactly how he intends to use it on you. He knows just as well how tempting it is to trust in him and let all of your worries evaporate into the night air. The urge sinks in your mind like an anvil, trying in desperation to snuff out the last of your stubborn will. It is so tempting.

How easy would it be to just let go? It shouldn’t matter what his jobs entail — you know he’ll still come home, staving off his weariness just long enough to present his hard-earned spoils to you and Gidel.

His fingers spread over your shoulder. Magic has never been his strong suit; it isn’t any easier for him to coax you than it is for you to resist it. He relies on the way your breath catches at his touch, each tender press of his hand sending tremors through you like spells of their own.

[archwing]

for the first time this semester i got a non-passing grade on a steno quiz (i got 93 and needed 95 to pass). i know my grade in the class is still high enough to still be okay with whatever letter grade that quiz turns out to be but im absolutely fuming bc it was a bunch of misstrokes and stupid errors i shouldnt have made. gnawing my fucking arms off

[m0th-t33th]

can you tell me more about chairman rose x giovanni like do you have more to yap about them because i see the vision and would love to hear more if you have more

okay yeah so like. they totally started out as just plain business partners. rose has so much control over all of galar adn giovanni wants some of that yaknow.... and gio is absolutely goign to do whatever it takes to get that power for himself, yeah? but then all of a sudden theres feelings involved and its. they end up dating. Maybe not DATING dating mayve like a situationship but its Something. right.

so its just. gios kind of trying to manipulate rose to like. get more info and stuff. probs wants to know about the eternatus plans and its like. Well rose let me take you out for a drink:) hoping that if he gets rose drunk enough he;ll then spill some secrets.

WRONG

rose, the stupid idiot, catches a crush like so fast. like almost immediately. and so hes gonna assume gios like. offering to take him on a date. instead of just... drinks as friends LOL so hes nervous and doesnt actually drink as much as gio wanted so he just.

Second Date.

rose. gets kinda drunk this time. gio is like 'ohohho yes tell me your plans for this god sleeping under the region' but rose, god bless him, doesnt spill secrets. Instead hes just kind of stupidly flirting and being like ;man... youre so pretyt:/' and giovanii is just like. Well this wasnt my plan but i can work with this.

so they get Closer. giovanni is still trying to get info from rose. he EVENTUALLY does, but by that time hes kind of like ... caught feelijgs back. BUT HE WONT ADMIT THAT!!!!!!!!!! and its causing issues back in kanto/johto because hes been in galar for so long that the rocket guys are like. kind of in shambles.

& something smething by the time giovanni can strike with stealing eternatus for himself and whatever hes kind of. Lost the motivation becayse he kinda Likes Rose. More than hed admit.

meanwhile this entire time rose has been gossiping with oleana like 'woaw hes so niceys...' and oleana is like. Rose My Friend he is trying to kill you dead. but she doesnt actually say that. she does try warn him but rose doesnt listen because. Well. Why would he? gio has been nice to him this far. AND he can handle himself and is prepared to like. cover up scandals and whatever if need be LOL.

this is very messy and whatever but this is kind of how i see the events going about. ALSO forgot to say but rose is absolutely planning to use team rocket like as a sevret card too before he. caught feelings. like in case everythig went to shit he would haave rocket to fall back on as an ally but. Yea.

anyway idk. i caught this bug from my lovely mutual on here @//medichamcham (no tag because i. dont want to bother him but you should totally check her out he does such good yummy art of the two.) and shes the one who made their ship name too (orbitshipping)

uhhh. Ya. theyre fun idk. gross old business men mutually trying to use each other and instead get in a kind of situationship and dont wanna. fuck each other over anymore. Lol

[stellar-collective]

🔧 How were you introduced to IEYTD?

one of my favorite gaming channels, RTGame, played through the first two games (before the 3rd one came out) and i was OBSESSED with his videos about them. i watched his playthrough of Spy and the Liar probably a dozen times and once the 3rd game came out i begged my dad to get the trilogy on our VR, which he did, much to my delight! the videos i watched were pretty spoiler free so i got the full experience. played through all three games in like four days and they’ve stayed at the top of my ‘favorite games’ list ever since

[ardate]

That One sequence of the mob on the soprano's Woke Up This Morning has almost blown me to smithereens i swear to fucking god. i've been reduced to a pile of smoking goo

[spockvarietyhour]

This guy with the Eric Braeden cut was looking real familiar but couldn't place him. It's Zephram Cochrane (TOS version)!

[pulpsandcomics2]

Mad #82 October 1963

[tobeholyistobeempty]

husband john price who goes to the end of the earth when his wife gets captured by an enemy group for leverage. husband john price who is still haunted by it, even when you’re back safe in his arms.

He doesn’t hear you come in.

Not over the silence. Not over the creak of leather beneath his elbows or the slow crackle of the fire in the hearth. The study is dim — warm, yes, but not alive. A space that once held meaning. Now it just holds him.

You don’t say a word. Just pad across the hardwood with gentle steps. His eyes are cast toward the fire — half-burnt logs, amber glow flickering across the hard line of his jaw and mingling with the smoke of his cigar. He hasn’t shaved in days. Not since long before he got you back. Hasn’t even thought about it. You know, because you counted each time he moved.

Three. Each to the kitchen, then back.

You pause for a moment, watching the grief calcify in his silence.

He looks like he’s been carved down to bone by fear and sharpened again by rage. The kind of rage only a man like him could carry. Cold. Surgical. The kind that doesn’t explode. It eats.

There’s a bottle of whiskey on the table next to him, half gone. You wonder how much of it he poured into the hollow that had your name carved into it. How many nights he drank your ghost down just to keep breathing.

You stop in front of him. No words yet.

Just you — bare legs, one of his dress shirts curtaining your frame, sleeves rolled up past the elbows. It smells like him. Cologne and smoke and something older. The scent of a man who nearly lost his world and hasn’t quite figured out how to let it back in without crucifying himself with the hurt.

“John,” you murmur softly.

He looks up.

And Christ — you weren’t ready for the way he looks at you. Not because he’s crying. He’s not. He’s past that. But because his expression is starved. Hollowed out. Like he spent every second of your absence chewing through every scenario that didn’t end with you in front of him, wearing his clothes and looking at him like you never left.

“I’m here,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”

He sets his cigar down, hand reaching out — rough palm sliding along your thigh like he’s checking for something, proof maybe, or pulse. You step between his knees without being asked, fingers finding the back of his neck, thumb brushing scruff made coarse by time.

His forehead presses to your stomach. Just rests there.

You can feel the breath he drags in — shaky, uneven, filled with everything he hasn’t said in the seven days he spent chasing hell to get you back.

“I should’ve gotten there sooner,” he says. His voice sounds like smoke and splinters. “I—”

“You got there.” You trace the age on his skin. He holds you tighter for it. “You found me.”

“Not a goddamn thing would’ve prevented that.”

You don’t answer that — just hold his head in your hands, willing your fingers to grow roots. Like the only thing you can offer now is proof of life.

He doesn’t ask you to forgive him for the days it took to reach you. Doesn’t apologize over and over for something he knows you'd never ever blame him for. It’s military. You know the job. The risks that often reap the rewards. And you — you know better than to tell him you’re fine. Because fine is the word people use when everything inside them is still bleeding. And besides, he isn’t really asking if you’re okay.

He’s asking if you’re still his.

So you climb into his lap, straddling his thighs. Not to fuck — not to forget. But to exist. With him. Inside the silence. Inside the ache. Inside the echo of what might’ve been lost if he hadn’t fought like hell to get to you.

“I had plans,” he murmurs, curling his lips into your neck. “For after. For now. Thought about what I’d say when you walked through the door. About how I’d ask if you wanted to get out of this life. Find something quieter. Something that doesn’t strip the good from our skin.”

You shift, press your forehead to his. Let the smoke on his exhales stick to yours. Let the ache burn through your throat.

“And now?”

He kisses you. “Now I just want to feel you breathe.”

[emmythbread]

tell me why terry pratchett looks like he's gonna put plastic wrap on your toilet bowl before you take a shit

he's about to offer you free candy (and it is NOT halloween)

he just farted in a sealed room full of people.

like this man is so silly. he's gonna put vaseline on your door handles. all of them.