superior trash

𝕴 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖉𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖓'𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖆𝖑𝖑?

It's clearly casting moonbeam, you uncultured fireball-brained wizard.

got a crick in my neck and a frog in my throat and a chip on my shoulder and a stick up my ass and now you're gonna stand there puttin words in my mouth? haven't I been through enough?

In my joyful dreams I never frown. Smilent Hill

surgery is so intimate like what do you mean im gonna be naked and asleep on a table while surrounded by a group of people who are responsible for my very life. kind of sexual. i mean who said that

oh you’re yanking my chain? yank harder

#this makes me curiously sad #the idea of flowers covering the undead #that symbol of human love is what makes them docile

if you've ever pet more than a few dogs you'd Know what dog residue is

there's something to be said about characters whose deep wells of love and devotion are connected to equally deep wells of violence, particularly when the dam between those wells bursts

love when an absolute nightmare of a character is introduced and all you can think is "jesus christ buddy what the hell is your problem" and the narrative gives you a hot minute to stew before explaining Exactly what is Their Problem. and you just sorta sit back in your metaphorical rocking chair and think "huh. yeah okay fair. that would do this to a person, yes."

Sex is great but have you considered hitting me as hard as you can

my mutuals' minds rival the minds of socrates and prostates and whoever the fuck

labubu was meant to be hanging off a kindergartners backpack filthy as fuck with no eyes left

AI could never recreate the spirit of a teenage girl with a shitty editing app