winter butterfly

listening to songs my younger self used to love is the closest i’ll ever get to a time machine

My toxic trait as a horror fan is that I will never ever ever ever ever tire of grief horror. The idea of grief driving people to do dark and unimaginable and truly horrific things is just so fucking raw and so fucking real to me and it fucks me up every single time. I don‘t care how many times I see it done in different ways or in the exact same way, it always hits for me. I am an absolute simp for any and all grief-based horror concepts and I forever will be.

The writer's barely disguised longing for a soft life shared with someone who loves them

i delete posts cuz i be getting mature over the hours

i can understand the trials but were the tribulations really necessary