#Nothing good.

[oldfruitloop]

one thing about me? I'm going to star a wip and never finish it

Duke Eren?!?

Sheriff Gojo?!?

Rapper Bakugo?!?

Let me….let get to work.

[ask-keith-the-basement-dweller]

“Marco! You forget to put your halloween basket away!“

“I can put them away, mom!”

“Gwynnie, Are you su- Oh, ok? Be careful!”

(Footsteps can be heard reaching down to the basement, before two jack-o-lanterns were placed on bottom of a shelf. Then the person giggled playfully and left)

(One of the baskets had a letter attached before it slips off and flies towards Keith, with the name “Keith” on it. It reads)

“DEAR - KEy - KEITH / HI HI - I doo not know U but U Know HER! But U do Not Know me! Aniways! Hear R Sum Treats for Uuuuuu In this Basket! P.S - Chales is Good! He is the Best!!!! - M!”

(Inside the basket where the letter is, there are dozens of snacks, some are covered in dirt. Then there’s a small blue-eyed doll with blonde hair ties to a ponytail. She wears a purple and yellow shirt and jeans)

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Psst.....hey, mom. There might be some leftover candy in their baskets.....want some?

......okay, guess she's busy....more for me-

[Keith quickly clamps a hand over his mouth while looking up the stairs, expecting 'Gwynnie' or Marco's mom to storm down into the basement at any second...luckily, no one came. Keith silently opened the letter and began reading, soon staring at the doll.]

.....I'm guessing Pat is supposed to be 'her'

[He glances back at the note while grabbing at a piece of candy from the pile.]

.....I wonder who could've wrote this....[munch.] I'm really curious now.....maybe I should go ask Pat if they know....

[He'll have to wait until everyone is asleep, including his mother as he hasn't told her yet about the secret ancient portal that's buried somewhere deep within the basement as he knows she would break the thing immediately. So, he decides to play with his new familiar doll friend while he waits.]

[Meanwhile, not so far from Keith is a displeased mother watching someone she's not even sure is the same sweet little boy she gave birth to anymore play with two dolls she knows didn't come from this basement while he snacks away on candy without a second thought....]

[As she stares at her son, she continues to write a note she knows that will be best for him....help him revert back to the obeying little boy that would never let his mother down. Save him from that awful, awful place that he for some reason always wants to go back to.]

[vexedtonightmares]

i’m being really chill and normal about it but i am in fact becoming a hashtag gamer and falling deeper and deeper in a tlou hole so.. 

[xx-hail2theking-xx]

why not? do u even know who we are? - jester

yes.

you're the mortals king paimak uses to do his bidding.

[s1xseasonsandamov1e]

[blaithnne]

Live Mel reaction

[hansoeii]

look at you, you're gorgeous!

[chloesimaginationthings]

The day FNAF Charlie Emily was shut out..

[v0idwraith]

quite frankly idgaf what Luigi Mangione’s politics are, he actually did something to make a change and that’s more than most people can say

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[citrispace]

Let's go together!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dog Meshi.

[aleisters]

[sword93]

Don't let them divide us

[rainbowpopeworld]

Tweet is here

[edited to add: I am not the Twitter OP. 😅 If you want to see my David Tennant cosplay, go ⬇️ here]

[pinkflames]

"The first-" no bish 😭