Ever Wonder How They Fit In The Coffin Bc I Do

I think that given the release of the FNAF movie, I will tell the tale of my most memorable dream. For context, I was 10 at the time, undiagnosed asthma (this will matter later), and had been watching the games since Markiplier first played the game.

The dream started with being in a completely blank house, myself going through the doors and finding random items inside, closing them, and going to the next one. For some reason, if I found a FNAF animatronic, they would chase me, except for Foxy and Chica. I don’t know why those two, but they were also searching doors with me. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be looking for an exit, but that part’s pretty blurry, since the next thing I remember was being outside on the path leading to one of those roads that game devs have when they don’t want to make a whole town. The ‘enemy’ animatronics weren’t chasing us, but we started running anyway. Then, I heard footsteps coming from behind me, and I think it was phantom Bonnie (the purple, really rare one) who I saw behind me. Cue more running, until I start to get tired. This is where I think my exemplary survival instincts come into play; my legs were beginning to get tired, and Chica and Foxy were running past me (because apparently they were also scared) so you know what I did? I stopped completely, turned around and was like ‘I’m tired, you can kill me now’. Phantom Bonnie began slowly walking towards me, but it was two steps away from me when I decided suddenly, ‘Oh! Actually, I don’t want to die’ and then started running again. Made it to the end of the road and then woke up.

No clue what the moral was.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

sillyguy of the day. apple of my eye

Not enough autism

autism

beans 🥹

Immediate attraction to the woman who just passed me as I lean against a pole, her smoking and carrying a hobby-craft bag.

I’ve read too much fanfiction to watch The Kissing Booth

Pixel Art by SUN PIXELS

i think about this video a lot

This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but it’s also kind of an amazing two-line poem? “His Wife has filled his house with chintz” is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and “chintz” is a perfect word choice here—sonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then “to keep it real I fuck him on the floor” collapses that whole mood with short percussive sounds—but it’s still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8