What idle thoughts therein doth this thot think

IDK I'm just a goth weirdo 🖤🩷

[tomietomorrow]

[ex0skeletal-undead]

How Will It Change Me?, oil on canvas by Lydia Pettit on Instagram

[tomietomorrow]

I thought it was about that one Japanese Yokai with the big tits

[baphometvtuber]

I think you may be thinking of the malaysian hantu tetek

sorry if I’m wrong but that’s the only bazongas ghost I know

[tomietomorrow]

Chat- would you still love me if I banged the bazongas ghost? 🫣🤣

[homerollgirl]

she's messing with a werewolf

[tomietomorrow]

If there's no biting and scratching involved, is it really love? 🩷🖤

[ex0skeletal-undead]

How Will It Change Me?, oil on canvas by Lydia Pettit on Instagram

[tomietomorrow]

I thought it was about that one Japanese Yokai with the big tits

[tomietomorrow]

I did promise an arts on here didn't I

[tomietomorrow]

I tried to die last night

A sad attempt, mooted swiftly

Aborted words, period, punctuation

My neck still aches from straining

Hard to write a fitting conclusion

As tho ostrich only could pen

And yet despite her split ends

My adorning crown of silk webs

Akin to a veil, must cover me well

For as if a shade I sit alone

Passed by, unseen, unhailed

As tho this mortal coil had passed

Has my attempt, much vain

Truly been for nought but dust

For the desert of eye's moisture

Surely to be seen is to live

And to be unseen, no footprints left

Must be the fate of the deceased

[scramratz]

I think people would be less suicidal if they were allowed to talk about being suicidal without risk of being sent to the Torture Dungeon

[tgirl-tamag0tchi]

If only some people in my life would get this.

[tomietomorrow]

What if I started posting some of my arts on here?

(i have chronic wrist pain so I can't make as much as I used to)

(but I still draw and paint sometimes, it's easier on real paper/canvas then my tablet sadly)

[annadrawscg]

cooked

[veguinsky]

Matching outfits 💕

[softrespite]

Hug Me

The doll nervously peers into the study.

“M-m-miss…?”

The mistress hears it and sets down her book. She turns to look over her shoulder at the doll, eyes widening.

The doll is in tears. Its apron is stained with food. It’s shaking. Balljoints rattle within its sockets.

“What happened, my dear one?” The mistress asks as she stands up to walk towards the doll. She freezes in place when the doll reacts negatively. It is genuinely afraid. A deep-seated trauma response she had yet to know about…

”It-it’s s-so stupid it… It … It wanted to make a special dessert for Miss…. but it..” The doll sniffles, trying hard to stifle tears. “It made a really stupid mistake. It-it-it slipped and b-broke the glass dish, ruined Miss’ dessert, a-an-and worst of all, ruined the surprise. It can’t do anything right. It’s so worthless… this one is SO SORRY!! P-p-please don’t hurt it!” It cracks. The doll covers its face and cries.

It continues to ramble, trying to explain itself through muffled cries and stuttering. The mistress’s gaze softens. She holds back a tear herself. She had to fix this.

“Oh my…! Dear one… it sounds like it was just an accident. You don’t have to be afraid of telling me when you’ve made a mistake. Everything will be okay.”

The mistress holds open her arms.

“Come here and hug me.”

The trigger phrase pops the doll’s ballooning, disordered thoughts like a needle. They fizzle out and disappear as if they were never there. All that was left was silence.

The trigger phrase moves the doll’s feet towards its Miss to stand directly in front of her. The doll’s arms limply fall to its sides. It nestles its face into the mistress’s neck and breathes in the familiar, comforting smell of her skin.

The mistress hugs the doll tightly, squeezing out the last of any negative thoughts from its doll, filling it with her warmth and heartbeat instead. Filling it with her love and care. Filling it with reminders of how much it means to her. Filling it with reminders that it will never be treated cruelly for something so trivial as an accident.

The doll’s sobs have long quiet down.

Everything stops hurting in Her arms. It always does.

[dogweapon]

the author's barely disguised longing for a kinder world

[yokonette]

[dykewozniak]

i really need healthy, able-bodied people to understand that there are many illnesses that cannot be cured and which, in many cases, don't even have effective treatments

and that constantly putting the onus on the people who have to live with these illnesses to simply "get better" is an incredibly shitty thing to do

and that it's not "toxic" for chronically ill and disabled people to feel down, and occasionally talk about how down they feel, in a world which continually disregards their suffering and makes their lives much more difficult than they need to be, sometimes deliberately

and that telling these people that they continue to be ill only because they haven't tried a certain exercise, supplement, therapy or diet will only further damage their health by causing them stress

and that doctors are not only not infallible magic-workers, but are very often actively prejudiced against their patients; especially female patients and patients who belong to marginalised and minority groups

please just understand this and accept that the chronically-ill and disabled people you speak to know more about their health and their limitations and what works or doesn't work for them than you ever could

thank you

[maimoonrabbit]

sylvies

[yokonette]

[iahtruong]