laughs at my own bad jokes

She got me praying all hours of the night, say she want my heart, She pulling me to the river, drawing me with her siren's call, Done gave her my heart but now she wants my soul, Well I already sold it to the man in red, "Fell in love with your charm," but its a curse; cos am dead, Girl you're not who you say, bad girl they say you are Innocence isn't where am at, wear your crucifix bae Don't make me out all serious bonnie, slave to this bad religion, Unrequited love, praying at my shrine, cos I don't have a heart Like a dead man walking, I lay at your side, Make sure you're alright in my world, atleast that for you girl,

I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul

Right now//Daryl Dixon

Info: When Daryl returns from the santuary, he showers with reader

Warnings: swearing ?

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction


After Negans brutal attack on two of our own, I left to The Hilltop with Maggie. We were on our way there until Negans group cut us off, she was in bad shape. As if it wasn’t bad enough, her husband was brutally slaughtered before her own eyes. She saw every gory bit, brains and eye ball falling out of its socket, and then Negan bragged about it. He swung Lucille in front of us all, laughing, smiling and cracking jokes. It was rough for everyone, even if I wasn’t too close to either of them. 


After everything, Negan took Daryl, my fiancé. Yeah, he punched Negan, but the asshole deserved it and so much more. Everyday I looked at my ring, hoping he’d come back and alive. Jesus left to kill Negan, he said it was to save Daryl but that was just so I wouldn’t be skeptical on him going. Maggie and I had grown fairly close with Jesus over this past week or so.
I was pulled from my thoughts at the sound of a motorcycle rumbling. I must’ve lost my mind hearing that. Dwight never came to The Hilltop as far as I was told, either way, I’d hear trucks also. But this, this was just a bike. I wanted it to be Daryl,  I really did. I looked out there and then to Maggie, she was the other person on watch duty with me today. 


“Lauren” Maggie said. 


“Daryl, is-is that Daryl?” I struggled to speak. 


My words got caught in my throat. Tears well into my eyes. I see him, he was in a different, new outfit. His hair flew back to reveal a dirtied face. Jesus rode behind him, he held his chest as Daryl rolled up to the gates. I hurried down the ladder to open the gates and let them in. Jesus got off and I hugged him, thanking him without any words as I didn’t have them at the moment. 


As Daryl got off his bike I looked at him. I walked close to see him but I couldn’t help but touch him. I wrapped my arms around him and he hugged back weakly. He didn’t look up at me, his dark brown hair hung in front of his face blocking any view I had of it. 


“Show him to a shower and I’ll leave new clothes for him in your room” Jesus whispered in my ear, a hand on my shoulder. 


I turned to him with a soft smile and nodded. He gave me a smile and a nod before leaving to the main house. I grabbed Daryl’s hand and led him to a shower. 


I turned it on for him, testing the water on my own arm for him. He still hadn’t said a word but I didn’t want to pry. 


“You’re towel is here and I’ll be right in that room I showed you when you’re done” I said looking at his slumped body. 


I turned to the door to leave. I was hesitant to leave him alone in this state.
“Stay” he grumbled his first words. 


I turned to him with raised brows, I didn’t expect that. 


“You sure?” I ask. 


“Of course I am” Daryl said cockily. 


He walked to me and kissed me. I felt something odd and pulled back, he had a scab on his lip. Daryl pulled off my shirt for me, trying to get me to forget his lip. He undressed me and I undressed him before we stepped in the shower. I made sure he got to the water before me as he needed it much more. 


I poured a dollop of shampoo into my hand and scrubbed at his head, his back to me. The soap foamed and I knew it was working. 


“Turn” I said. 


He turned. His head tilted back and I rinsed his hair he best I could. There was a lot of tip toeing and stretching to do so. As he tilted his face to look at me, I got a better look at him. The scab on his lip had a faint yellow bruise around it. Under his eye was purple and yellow and his cheek had a scab with bruising. I ran my fingers over the marks gently, cleaning away the layer of dirt that had built up on his face. 


“What’d they do to you?” I whisper sadly. 


“Don’t matter. I’m here now” Daryl said. 


He didn’t like me worrying about him or lingering on sad things. He didn’t like the fact that I cared so much for him, care was something new to him. To give and receive. 


I ran my hands down his chest and back, watching the dirt leave him, his tan skin was back. He went to turn off the shower. 


“Don’t. I still need to shower” I say. 


“I can wait, help ya like ya did to me” Daryl says. 


“I got it. You change, rest up” I tell him. 


“Okay, I love you” he said and kissed my head, his hands held my face firmly.
He left the shower and that’s when I lost it. I cried and cried. I could only imagine what they did to him, and that could’ve been the best outcome. I thought about him hurting and I didn’t like it, not at all. Not the man I loved so much. -break-As I walked down the hall with my towel around me, I peeked inside the room we were given. Daryl stood in front of a full length mirror buttoning up his shirt. I smiled at him. He was quiet as he did so, taking his time trying to minimize the amount of fumbling with his fingertips. I think he felt my presence when he turned to me and smiled. 


I walked in and got dressed myself before taking a place in between his legs as he sat on the bed. I looked down at him, his hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. I moved it back and kissed him. 


“I love you so much, not a day went by without me worrying about you. You had me so god damn scared you asshole” I said into the top of his head.
He held my hips to me, his face was to my chest. 


“Not a day went by where I thought, I regret no marrying Lauren before I die”
My heart stopped. Marrying? Me? I could feel his breathing speed up, it was shallower. He was nervous. 


“Like, how dare I die on her without her knowing I didn’t have a ring on my finger. That my dreams of calling her my wife, never came true. So, marry me. Right now”

“Daryl” I whispered in surprise. 


“No crowds, no vows, no fancy outfits. Just me, you, and these rings" 


“Okay” I responded.

One of my favorite things to imagine is post-Revelations Thom Rainier relearning some of his bad habits. He doesn’t need to keep up the perfectly virtuous and noble grey warden persona any more, and starts to slowly allow himself to be vain, to be lewd, to be proud. He’s changed, of course, he really is a better man – but he’s also realized that you don’t have to be perfect to be good.

My two cents on the Series of Unfortunate Events discourse currently in progress on my dash, chiefly a personal answer to the question “how is this funny” (hey there @why-bless-your-heart):

The books are largely comedy literature, I understand that now. The new series on Netflix is very aware of its own absurdity, often bordering on camp. When I was a nine-year-old kid reading The Bad Beginning, though, I was not in it for laughs. I was entranced by what I simply saw as a gripping story about some brainy orphans trying to evade the clutches of a master criminal. There were a few lines I understood as jokes, mostly the in-text word definitions. But chiefly I loved how ruthless the story was–Count Olaf isn’t fooling around, he’s straight-up going to kill these kids if and when he gets their fortune from them, and says as much. I still remember the thrill of Klaus’s realization that Olaf is not merely an “unsavory, drunken brute,” but an “unsavory, clever drunken brute”–one who knows the game and plays it well, for all that the prey continues to evade him. And I read the rest of the series largely in the same spirit–my mother occasionally tipping me off to where the comedy lay by bursting into laughter over, for instance, the socialite antics of Esme Squalor or the gallows humor of the phrase “two Quagmire triplets.”

Over the weekend, when I reread The Bad Beginning–a book which enthralled my younger self for hours but which my cynical adult incarnation sucked up as easily as a Libby’s juice box–I was disappointed to find Olaf a poor shadow of the complex and calculating villain I had known in childhood. He’s a simple algorithm designed by his author to take the most evil option offered to him at a given moment–overload his charges with chores, complain about the food they serve his minions, deal Klaus a full-strength slap across the face. Much of his villainy is utterly pointless; impressive hairdo aside, he’s not one of your stylish baddies. Evil a la Snicket is rude, abusive, self-centered, overinflated, unhygienic, bad at acting and a disliker of great literature. A moment’s lapse in puppy-kicking or in dire table manners would render him an incomplete villain, and it would, I think, have profoundly disappointed my preteen self. I was in it for nothing less than utter monstrosity.

The Olaf of the early installments is, wacky disguises and occasional one-liners notwithstanding, really not a terribly funny guy. In The Bad Beginning I don’t think Olaf made me laugh even once, then or now. The inherent silliness of Olaf as served by Neil Patrick Harris is really more in keeping with the Olaf of the later books, when the comedy (as I remember) became more surface-level; the Olaf who, stranded at sea with the orphans, does not terrify them but grandly demand that they steer him to a car dealership, to which they react with a disgust typically reserved not for the local arsonist but for an excessively embarrassing parent. And I loathed that Olaf; he no longer felt like a threat. Olaf at his most effective could be frightening even when he was most funny; he could dress up as a woman, put on a high, squeaky voice and still make you want to watch where he’s putting those long fake fingernails. At some point in the establishment of the cumbersome VFD mythology, Olaf’s flair faded until the final installment granted him an overblown and melodramatic death that felt, to my by-then-13-year-old self, entirely unearned. I wanted Olaf the unhinged murderer back; sympathy was out-of-keeping with his presentation and struck the wrong note.

The back jackets get some comedy out of listing enormous tragedies alongside trivial instances and out-of-context oddities as though they were all equivalent (“In this short book alone, the three youngsters encounter a greedy and repulsive villain, itchy clothing, a disastrous fire, a plot to steal their fortune, and cold porridge for breakfast”). Still, I would argue that the essential humor of the series does not stem from the misfortunes the Baudelaires face, the most serious of which–the loss of their parents–is treated with sincere gravity. (The one line from The Bad Beginning that still impresses me as an adult: “It is useless for me to describe to you how terrible Violet, Klaus, and even Sunny felt in the time that followed. If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels, and if you haven’t, you cannot possibly imagine it.”) Instead, it’s derived from various absurdities (the sheer ridiculousness of making a baby work at a lumber mill; Vice Principal Nero and his fiddle; Esme Squalor’s faddish obsession with “aqueous martinis,” otherwise known as water) and from narrative divergences such as lengthy translations of Sunny’s baby-talk, oddly specific definitions of words in their current context (“transpired” apparently means “happened, and made everyone sad”), and tangents about the shadowy life of Lemony Snicket (“[T]he law is an odd thing. For instance, one country in Europe has a law that requires all its bakers to sell bread at the exact same price. A certain island has a law that forbids anyone from removing its fruit. And a town not too far from where you live has a law that bars me from coming within five miles of its borders”). It’s something like the easy-reader version of Nabokov, and the comic note it strikes is one its successors have failed to imitate, although it is most successful when it takes a backseat to the action and wears thin whenever it starts to fall in love with its own peculiar drone.

Ok, you all got your super cool NDRV3 AU versions of Ki-bo so I’ll have my fun now with my very own Trash AU, in which Ki-bo exists as super cool Junk!Ki-bo.

He’s super nice and he likes:

-rainbows, flowers, long waks, making people laugh, cooking

He hates:

-discrimination, racism, bad people, war, darkness, losing oil all the time due to the holes in his trash body

This is him trying to seduce you:

He’s also besties with the whole cast of FNAF.

If Black Butler Characters Were Bloggers

Ciel: A monochrome blogger that also posts sad but relateable quotes

Sebastian: A model that does daily vlogs about his life with his cats

Finny: A garden aesthetic blogger ( secretly supplies the world with transparent flower crowns )

Bard: Posts pictures of his live action civil war roleplay

Mey-rin: random stuff, has that one post with like 100,000 notes about this one clumsy thing she did once.

Elizabeth: weaboo , posts pictures of the “kawaii” stuff she bought online and her cosplays.

Tanaka: Blog got deleted for spam because he kept posting “ho ho ho”

positive kent parson headcanons

i’m fucking tired of kent parson hate and headcanons about “all the bad stuff he does” so have these

• one time he laughed so hard at Jack’s dad jokes that chocolate milk came out of his nose

• his favorite color is purple

• he owns too many pairs of shoes that he’s been given for free. every year around christmas he donates them to shelters around vegas

• his mom used to call him Ken, which evolved to Ken doll, which evolved to Kendall. his sister still to this day calls him Kendall (he pretends to hate it but he loves her too much so he lets it slide)

• he once had a puppy and he loved it but his family couldn’t afford to keep it. he wants to get himself a puppy some day but doesn’t know if he would be able to train it 

• a few years before the draft, when Jack and Kent were best friends, they used to have sleepovers and they stayed up talking about everything

• Kent knew about Jack’s anxiety and tried his best to help

• Kent donates a lot of money to organizations that help teens with mental illnesses 

• Kent once bought a 12 pack of root beer, went home, and drank them with jack so they could have a burping contest. Jack won, but Kent still demands that he won because his billet mom told Kent to quiet down, not Jack

ok headcanon that the kids pull a 4/20 joke on Bakugou’s birthday once, but Bakugou doesn’t take it well and stomps out of the rooms and slams his door, and in the end no one is laughing. the kids feel bad about it and bake him his own “King of ExplodoKills” cake to make up for it

it takes both Kirishima and Kaminari to drag Bakugou out of his room to see the cake. Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but he eats 3 slices, which is good enough for the sudents

anonymous asked:

Hey so I don't know if you would mind explaining something to me, why does Isak act distant and weird when Even is explaining to Isak how he's going to propose? I don't know if it was a bad translation of dialogue or if I'm just missing something obvious. Thx❤️

hello my nice anon! i’m always here to talk about this show, no worries. so this scene is very intense. during the talk about the proposal it becomes apparent that something’s not quite right, Even is rambling and his train of thought becomes hard to follow, he’s laughing at his own jokes before he even finishes them. he is about to have a manic episode. while Isak still doesn’t have the word for it, he senses something is off. Isak is someone who has a lot of thoughts but he tends to keep them to himself. he is very bad at dealing with conflict and confrontation, instead preferring to distance himself from a situation and hope it’ll pass. rather than confront Even about the messages and phone calls from Sonja, he chooses to ignore them. here is where it starts to dawn on him that this thing is too big for him to ignore, but he can’t bring himself to ask Even what’s wrong. so when you see him act distant and weird, it’s because he is a 17-year-old boy in a fancy hotel room with his new boyfriend who is about to have a manic episode and he doesn’t know what to do. and when he doesn’t know what to do, he does what he always does, which is do nothing. did my explanation make any sense?

Tagged by @theboookowl thank you <3

Rules: Tell your followers 11 random facts about yourself, and tag people in return.

  1. My attention span is akin to a fruit fly’s lifespan. Needless to say, it’s really short.
  2. I would love to be a writer someday, which is why I’m already beginning to write my own story. Ask me about it.
  3. Don’t take me to a bookstore unless you’re eager to hear me rave about the books or unless you want to read silently beside me.
  4. Morally gray characters give me life.
  5. Emilia Clarke is my queen, my love, my heart.
  6. I’m ambitious but also lazy.
  7. I’m obsessed with astronomy and conspiracy theories.
  8. I speak three languages–two fluently, one terribly.
  9. I’m that friend who laughs at all your jokes no matter how bad they are.
  10. Eternally in love with short haircuts, eternally cursed to not look good in one.
  11. Sometimes I can control my dreams, and on rare occasions the pain I feel in my dreams manifests when I wake up. Basically, I’m a Greywaren.

Tagging the usual squad: @newtscqmander @divinetheta @khazbrekker @vesteros @marauderslilys @dudleydursley @znanyjany

+ mutuals I’d like to know better: @mavencalore @ohmorozova @thunderbiirds @alekzandermorozova @matsboyd @rhyesand @chavlesxavier

anonymous asked:

It's 5:28 pm and I'm texting my crush... he finds my lame jokes funny and even sent me an audio of him telling another dad joke of his own... now I feel bad for looking at Jimin's isac photos while texting him. I'm a hoe :')

it’s always fun to find someone who can share the same kinds of jokes to laugh at and you are lucky that you can do that with your crush^^

dw about that. I also look at yoongi’s photos a lot (even have him on my lockscreen) when I’m with my boyfriend. you can’t help but do that :p

“Anonymously tell me what time it is there and what you’re thinking about”

10

Yesterday i found somewhere a challange in which you should draw your fav characters with Thomas the Tank Engine faces

never laughed so hard in my entire life

click on the pics for lame captions