#i just want to laugh

[sad-kiersten238]

[bradshawsbaby]

Why is every TikTok I’m seeing today making me weep? 😭

[seungbo-today]

☕

[nasirsagron]

Why are the intro clips of each part of this show so damn dramatic?

They look like the opening of a south american soap

[heresylog]

I don’t care if you make fun of Catholicism as long as it’s accurate! The best humour has its roots in the truth.

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[inkskinned]

having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!

there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.

[mollysunder]

What I liked best about Jinx and Sevika's first post-Silco talk was how well it implies why their grief is so pronounced. Every complaint the two lodged at Silco was an admission at how dependent Silco had become on them, how much he LET himself be dependent. Silco didn't NEED to let Jinx give him his eye medicine, he was perfectly capable of doing so in season one's first act. The same could be said about Sevika, because while it wasn't nearly as extreme as with Jinx, he didn't need to give her so much responsibility. Frankly it's dangerous for a kingpin to give their righthand so much power (it's supposed to be spread around), and everyone noticed, even idiots like Finn.

That's why their loss is so pronounced, in all the years they dedicated to Silco, he gave up just as much of himself to them. Silco weakened himself and trusted Sevika and Jinx to make up for it. They filled eachother out, they needed eachother, and without him there's just a hole what they all used to give eachother.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

The Joker was apprehended, sitting on the ground as Batman guarded him, but the kid--"Bruce Wayne's newest ward, how tragic! Hehehe!"--was nowhere to be found. Nightwing and Red Hood desperate searched the warehouse until a shuffling noise grabbed their attention.

A kid, black haired just like the kid in the Joker's broadcast, crawling out of a pile of boxes. "Is it over?" the boy asked quietly.

Nightwing guided him to the only exit, unfortunately walking past the boy's own kidnapper. "Yeah, kid. It's over. Come on-"

Like a shot, the boy rushed the Joker and kicked him right in the balls.

The Joker wheezed like a dying squeaky toy. Red Hood froze. Nightwing immediately snatched the boy up by the armpits, but all that did was give the boy the height to attack again, punting Joker in the jaw. The clown went down and cracked his head on the floor. He did not get back up.

There was a moment of silence before Red Hood roared with laughter, his helmet distorting the sound.

[pansy-picnics]

“gay son or thot daughter,” you start to ask, but you can’t even finish your sentence because cosmo and wanda heard “gay son” and immediately started cheering and clapping

[foldingfittedsheets]

So one thing I’ve noticed is that people’s DnD characters may vary but there is usually an underlying thread that they all have in common. This thread is typically related to what that person struggles with the most.

For instance, my betrotheds DnD characters: a bitchy warlock we had to bust out of two different pacts, a sassy barbarian, a reformed drow cultist, and a sunshine fighter cleric.

All these characters were wildly different but at their very core struggle was them grappling with their self worth. My betrothed struggles with their worth a great deal and even with different facets showing their characters all have that too.

Mine all tend to contend with different themes of loneliness and acceptance. Surprise, surprise, the little autistic gremlin yearns to have been met with more love and lasting friendships.

So we’re at breakfast. I am meeting a new friend of my betrotheds for the first time. It’s been twenty minutes since I’ve met this man. I say my theory. He laughs. He starts to describe a few of his characters but specifies that he often has healing aspects. He gives a very broad overview of their character arcs.

I ponder for a moment then said, “Would you like to have my assessment?”

He laughed, “Sure!”

“We’ve just met. It’s gonna get real.”

“Bring it on.”

“I think your struggle is that you feel you must offer something of value or service to people to be worthy of their love.”

His jaw dropped. His fork froze midway to his mouth. A potato fell. He stared into space as this sank in. Quietly he said, “Oh.”

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[lilislegacy]

You know what I always think about? Percy is the classic funny boyfriend. He’s sarcastic and witty. Some of his jokes are sharp and clever, many are corny dad jokes. But nevertheless he’s hilarious. And yet, Rick rarely writes Annabeth laughing at his jokes. I feel like he thinks it’s empowering for Annabeth to just roll her eyes or scold him every time. But he’s funny asf!! Let his girlfriend think he’s funny!

There’s a scene in HoH where Percy makes Annabeth laugh when they’re climbing down a cliff, and she has to tell him to stop so she doesn’t fall to her death. Then in CotG, Percy says something and Annabeth smiles against her will, and it makes Percy so happy. Those scenes are rare, but so. damn. cute. That said, I wish Annabeth wasn’t always trying so hard not to laugh at his jokes. I want to see him be able to make her smile and laugh so easily that it’s not even fair to her. I mean, the guy can drop banger after banger—there’s so much opportunity.

If these new books are supposed to be lower stakes, give me percabeth laughter. Give me Percy cracking bad jokes and Annabeth bursting out laughing with no shame. Give me her cackling at his witty comment so hard that her abs hurt and tears fall from her eyes. Even though we know Percy is conventionally attractive, give me Grover making a joke that the reason Annabeth likes Percy so much is because she spends so much time with her eyes closed since she’s always laughing. I want people to think they’re kinda annoying. I want to see their friends giving them side eyes from across the table because Percy’s making Annabeth laugh so hard that it’s disrupting the whole room.

Annabeth’s reluctance to laugh made sense before they were dating and were bickering 24/7, when they didn’t want to show their true feelings. But that’s not the case anymore. And don’t get me wrong, it really frustrates me how Rick seems to be rapidly reducing Percy to simply being “the funny guy.” He’s stripping him of so many qualities and compensating with double the cheesy humor. But the worst part is that even when being funny is all Rick will allow him to be, Percy still doesn’t get to be the funny boyfriend. It’s as if he wants Annabeth to be too mature for her boyfriend’s bad humor. But if Percy is going to continue be diminished to the stupid, annoying guy who can’t take things seriously, the LEAST Rick can do is give him the ability to easily make his girlfriend laugh.

[bi-writes]

can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)

greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."

you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.

you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.

you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."

you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.

he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.

he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.

he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.

ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.

yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.

[sandushengshou]

things sam reid has said [1/∞]

[the-midnight-sugar1]

I don’t think he hears genuine laughter very often