#The Laughing Skull | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world · 2 months

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#mst3k #mystery science theater 3000 #the laughing skull #b movies #90s tv #90s tv shows

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bi-writes · 5 months

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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.

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thebibliosphere · 17 days

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The sheer number of neurological disorders I’ve acquired over the years is truly just like, the spiders George of neurological fuckery.

1. Chronic “normal” migraines (15-20 days a month)

2. Hemiplegic migraines (rarely. But terrifying when they happen.)

3. Cluster headaches (come and go in flares)

4. Trigmeral nueralgia

And the latest son of a bitch to the line up:

5. Occipital neuralgia

And that’s just the shit that affects my head. It doesn’t even account for everything the fuck else that is wrong with me and the stuff we just found out about my spine. Like Jesus Wept.

Like I dunno how we’re going to mindfulness our way out of this one girlypop but I’ll try.

#chronic health tag #this post brought to you by getting an email from neurology about mindfulness classes #and me laughing so hard I triggered nerve pain in my skull

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tofixtheshadows · 6 months

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I love Laios for many reasons but my silliest reason is that he is TANK REPRESENTATION. My boy is 100% farm raised beef and while he can obviously handle himself in a fight, I love that he doesn't have any cool weapon skills or special abilities outside of tactical monster knowledge. He just swings his sword. His job in combat is to wear heavy as fuck armor and throw his weight around. Ryoko Kui knows that a real tank isn't afraid to get brain damage (that's what the healer is there for).

Conversely, this is also one reason why I love Kabru, in the opposite direction, because I am a career DPS and I love his pure DPS energy. I love that he's a Dex fighter who looks like a baby deer and keeps a knife in his boot.