𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮: 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘪𝘭, 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘴. — 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘶𝘰𝘯𝘨.
𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙞𝙗, 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘦. includes all themes associated with horror. botany by lucifer, 25, they/it.
𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 — app / stats / credits 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳.
attention to all visitors: if you find yourself stuck in an evil art gallery where the exhibits are trying to kill you, make sure to sacrifice yourself for the nine year old girl you adopted recently. it's called high-stakes babysitting.
get yourself a girl who crumples like a soggy piece of paper. just absolutely folds over and sobs. paper mache type girl.
while in the gallery, garry's life depended on a blue rose. her mortality would wither if the flower wilted. it's still with her now, she keeps it on her person at all times.
is there something around her neck? no? perhaps some paint stuck to her clothing? she must be imagining things.
briefly lost her mind after getting attacked by a monstrous doll. she's not very fond of them anymore. or of galleries, for that matter.
garry had a few brushes with death, the paintings in the gallery eating the petals of her rose. eventually, she succumbed to one of them plucking the flower empty, in a game of loves me, loves me not.
her ass is not beating the milf allegations.
why is she so anxious? it's the anxiety. don't startle her, she'll scream.

















