#group laughter

After an intense game of basketball at the neighborhood court, Leo was riding high on victory. He had just scored the winning shot from the half-court line, earning cheers from his friends. The sun was bright, the air electric with laughter—and Leo, ever the show-off, couldn’t resist taunting his teammates just a little.

“Guess I’m the MVP today!” he said, spinning the ball on one finger.

His friends exchanged mischievous glances. They had planned something for moments just like this.

As Leo strutted to the center circle, basking in imaginary crowd applause, two of them came up from behind and grabbed him playfully. Another friend pretended to interview him for “post-game commentary” while secretly signaling the others. Before he knew it, Leo’s jacket was off, his shirt tugged halfway over his head, and everyone was laughing uncontrollably as he tried to escape the friendly chaos.

Leo fell back on the court, half-laughing, half-protesting. The prank was harmless, but it left him in a ridiculous pose, surrounded by his friends doubled over in laughter.

Liam could feel the bass shaking the floor as he stepped into the packed living room. The air smelled of beer, sweat, and the faintest trace of cologne. It was supposed to be just another weekend party—drinks, music, and harmless dares. But as soon as he saw Mason smirk from across the room, he knew he was in trouble.

Mason had a sharp eye for humiliation and a mischievous streak that everyone knew too well. He had noticed earlier in the night—when Liam had bent down to grab a drink—that his underwear wasn’t just underwear. It was bright, cartoonish, and impossible not to laugh at.

“Yo, Liam!” Mason shouted over the music, grinning like a fox. “Show everyone what you’re rocking under those jeans!”

Liam froze, half-laughing, half-panicking. “Dude, shut up.”

But Mason wasn’t letting him off easy. He pounced when Liam least expected it. The crowd noticed, cheering him on as Mason and two others grabbed Liam’s arms and yanked his shirt off.

“Wait, wait—don’t—” Liam pleaded, but the cheers grew louder.

In a matter of seconds, his jeans followed. Liam stood there in the middle of the living room, heart pounding, wearing only his bright yellow Transformers briefs. The room erupted in laughter and applause.

“Oh my god!” someone yelled from the back. “Are those Bumblebee briefs?”

Mason raised Liam’s discarded jeans above his head like a trophy. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he declared, “the life of the party!”

Liam’s face burned as he tried to cover himself, but Mason grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back just enough to keep him exposed. The cameras were out now, phones flashing.

Inside, Liam was torn between fury and an odd rush of adrenaline. They’re all staring at me. Oh god, they’re actually cheering. I should be mad… but maybe this isn’t the worst thing ever?

“Alright, alright,” Mason finally said, loosening his grip but still grinning. “Let’s get him a drink—he earned it!”

http://wp.me/p1zMHI-2or

Lonely as a truck on a siding in the Czech Republic

Dispirited as 2 patiently waiting dogs outside the Weston Link in Edinburgh

Miserable as a  Glasgow beggar in the rain

 Friendly as a tail-wagging terrier behind bars in Blairgowrie

Lithe as an early-riser in Iona

Preoccupied as a boy with his finger in his ear in France

Empty as the main Street in Stromness

 Happy as a Festival crowd in…