mentaly ill core 💕✨️

1fairy - I FEEL ALRIGHT  / STILL WON'T TEXT ME

haunted

haunted (prod. money kidd x whiteskinny)

@luvwillow
@bayymack
@technafy

luvwillow

o m f g
all these girls want me
my life is a diary
an internet celebrity
morphine morphine
i want more of everything
please dont ever hurt me
you got me thinking dirty

dnt touch me
or my heart
our passion
its burning
bury me in the hello kitty casket
i wish that we never met you ugly fat hoe
sad bitch
a popstar
and flashy cars
deceiving
so tempting
i wanna get to know you
and drink ur blood
its so sweet
i cant ever love

techna

you look so gorg
like britney gimme more
more than a valentine 
something i can deny
only u and i 

change my hair
dye my clothes i wanna bury you in snow
so disobedient 
but ur brains are so gorgeous
wanna get 2 know my body 
u can force it;)
dating you is the worst but
the best for pretty rings
mouth is sticky wet
but it’s not from ur bling 
x o x can you kiss me through my phone
your boyfriends mine he's not coming home

i wash all my cuts with your blood
if you wanna have fun
take off all ur clothes 
let me trigger your gun
od xd me in the back with the lights on
striped shirt dead hair sober off party on

bayymack

u love blood and love the taste of me
im sick of my mind why i keep fighting it
can we watch the world end 
dnt even know myself
why do you want me 
i cnt control no help
cast a spell on my love, a hex aint enough
carve ur name on my arms 
just make sure its sharp
drop your spit on my tongue
when we lay up
next time that we fuck 
make sure that u can keep up

sy

its hard sometimes 
but i gotta realize
everyone around me
jus want me 
for the eyes on me
i know u try its so sweet
jus wanna believe
but bby i cnt believe in you
tell me everything about you
i wann think about you
every single night
nd ill pick a fight with you
if you want me to 
if you want me tooo

off fuckin drugs in the club
were so fucked up
cuttin on our wrist
ya we luv to see the blood
cmon bby 
throw it up
throw it up
she knows i rlly wnna fuck wnna fuckk

internet celebrity

internet celebrity (+ luvwillow, bayymack, techna)

fashion show [prod BOY FANTASY] - ratrace ft nurplee Slowed

g0r3c0r3 and boy fantasy - together

0:0-1:27  Together (ft G0r3)

1:28-3:23 OCTOBER & LIES

3:24-5:14 I FEEL ALLRIGHT

5:15-5:27 boy fantasy snippet

5:28-7:24 Fashion show (Ratrace + Nurplee/ prod BOY FANTASY) 

BOY FANTASY - 1N TH3 FUCK1NG CLUB(Fanmade album with only unreleased tracks)

Truth Or Dare Lytespeed

1stress - karma (feat. hauntingclaire) Slowed

siouxxie sixxstar - foreplay

lyrisc

I don't wanna fucking talk
So I'm sawing at my wrists
It's the only thing
that fucking makes sense
And I wanna be with you
you're so pretty
Please pick up your phone
I feel so lonely

You can be my undead princess
Baby, come with me 
and I'll show you how to bleed it
Drag your razor across my thighs
Carve your name into my chest
I don't wanna fuck it up
but maybe it's for the best

I'm so fucked up
I can't fucking see you
Do you wanna come
with me tonight around two?
Wipe the tears
out your eyes
don't make me fucking cry
Yeah
I love it when you stay by my side

Bleed for me 
baby and I wanna see your fucking blood
I know that you're such a mess
Gotta clean that shit up
My body's so cold
And I need you right now
I want your heart
I want your love
Baby, give it all to me now

Bleed for me
you know I adore it
Blood so pretty
yeah, I can't stop staring
Eyes so swollen
wrists so fucked up
We're so fucked up
I just need you now

Oh oh, let it bleed oh, oh

I fuck up all the time
And I wanna make you mine
Slit my fucking throat
Baby, I won't fucking cry
I'll cut myself
If it makes you fucking happy
I wanna rip myself in half
Baby, is this fucking love?

I just wanna fucking know
Baby, please don't fucking go
I can’t handle being alone
I'm right here if you want me
I don't give a fuck, bitch
I'm fucking bleeding
I'm fucking bleeding
I'm bleeding all for you

Horrormovies - Bleeding (pixelhood) Slowed

Illuminati - LyteSpeed ft. Punkinloveee (sped up)

https://www.instagram.com/luvwillowxx/
https://www.instagram.com/skypebf/
https://www.instagram.com/prod.pixelhood/

D3STR0Y M3 ft. skypebf [prod. pixelhood]

cholorofilm + kidsnorlax - kill me pls

London, 1782. The streets swelled with rain like veins brimming too close to the skin. A storm dragged its heavy cloak across the city, rattling shutters, drowning alleys, and turning the cobbled lanes of Bishopsgate into black mirrors. By candlelight and guttering lantern, the city’s wealthy fastened their doors against the night. They were accustomed to thieves, footpads, and cutpurses, but what weighed upon them now was different. It was heavier, a dread that had no coin purse or purse string to cut.

That morning, before the storm, the first key had appeared. A long iron shaft, pitted with age, dangled from a black thread tied in a meticulous knot upon the door of the shipping magnate Lord Ephraim Colgrave. By noon, word had spread. Keys had been found on the thresholds of others as well: a banker in Cheapside, a judge’s clerk in Temple, and a charitable priest whose benevolence carried the stink of unpaid rents and purchased absolution. Each key was marked with a sigil, faint and sharp, as if carved by a hand both ancient and impatient.

Servants whispered of a shadow moving between the rain, of a figure vast as a rampart whose presence bent gutters and chimneys. When asked what face they saw, they fell quiet. It was as if the word itself could not be brought to lips.

By dusk, Lord Colgrave had dismissed the rumors. His counting-house was a fortress of oak and iron, his ledgers stacked in neat towers, his guard a veteran of His Majesty’s navy. “Superstitious rot,” he called it, brandy warming his belly. The storm grew meaner. At the witching hour, the watchman swore the rain ceased in a single circle around the door, like a stage cleared for an audience unseen. He raised his lantern. The wick dimmed, as though ashamed.

Inside, Colgrave’s pen scratched across parchment. He revised his accounts, striking out columns of losses and transmuting debt into profit with a confident flourish. Yet the ink blurred, spreading like spilled silt. He cursed, leaned close, and found the grain of the page wet. The water was thick, dark, and smelled of river rot. His hand trembled.

From the shadows between rafters, something shifted. The watchman outside later insisted the ceiling bowed as though under great weight. Colgrave turned, his quill snapping. The air grew heavy, not thick with smoke but with a silence deeper than thunder.

The watchman’s shout went unanswered. He forced the door, lantern in hand. Inside, he found his master seated upright, spine unnaturally aligned, head tilted back as though in study. The man’s mouth was filled with Thames silt, packed as tightly as mortar between bricks. His eyes were wide, glassy, staring at the ledgers which now lay soaked, ink dissolved into black pools that mirrored nothing.

In the margins, written not in ink but in a residue like ash dissolved in rain, was a single word: Grathok.

By dawn, the tale had spread across the coffee houses and taverns. It was spoken by printers’ apprentices and drunkards alike. Some claimed Grathok was a hired blade, a mercenary turned specter. Others swore he was a revenant risen from the gutters, vengeance given form. A beggar at Moorfields swore he had seen him crouched atop Ludgate, armor gleaming like wet stone, sword angled like a lightning rod to the heavens. A washerwoman muttered that he was no man at all, but the city’s own conscience, risen from filth to collect its debts.

No one agreed except on one point. With the keys came death, and with death came a silence that even thunder dared not disturb.

That day, as the rain still clung to the eaves, men of standing checked their doors twice. Some hired more guards. Others prayed. But all watched the dripping thresholds, waiting to see if a black thread and iron weight would hang upon their own.


And beneath the storm, Grathok walked unseen, his mission beginning.

Chapter I: The Rain of Keys

A sonic firestorm of glitchy hits, dramatic FX, and electrifying breakdowns, this track unleashes pure dance floor chaos. Liberty Webster’s vocals ignite the mix, and trust us, the title doesn’t lie. 


It's Gonna Blow! (Feat: Liberty Webster)

(*≧︶≦))(￣▽￣* )ゞ
Pictures and songs don't belong to me!
All pictures are from Pinterest (￣﹃￣)



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Gimme McPussy 

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( •.•) 
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Insta: vampire.dolly_

1stress - karma (feat. hauntingclaire) Slowed

xShio

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