#cw: obituary

[theholmwoodfoundation]

OBITUARY Dame Wilhelmina "Mina" Harker (née Murray) Died May 3rd 1953 Co-Founder of ‘The Holmwood Foundation’

Dame Mina Harker was paramount in supporting the creation of The Holmwood Foundation with Lord Arthur Godalming in 1894. Her contributions to sciences and assisting to pioneering research in haematology was a lifelong mission after her husband Jonathan Harker died in an accident in the Carpathian Mountains in 1890. She was made a Dame in 1930 when she was given an OBE for services to the charity and sciences. Mina’s life was dedicated to supporting the Holmwood Foundation and its research, particularly after the tragic loss of her son, Jonathan Quincey Harker, who lost his life during The First World War. Her estate has been taken over by the Holmwood Foundation, to continue its great work in haematology as it celebrates its 59th anniversary this year.

Published in the British Medical Journal, 1953

[raphaerolo]

Last Line Challenge

I'm pretty sure there were rules to this but i forget the specifics and anyway i got tagged by @lothcatthree :)

It's actually been a bit since i've written or drawn, like a couple days, and i can't remember which i did last so i'll just dump two entirely unrelated wips here to optimize the whiplash

First of all: Hockeyyyyy au

I love bloody hockey obi wan i think it's a good look and i love this au, it will not leave my head. I'm still messing with the colours and I believe my last line was the blood on his jersey ❤️

Second of all: writinggg 😅, which happens to be some codywan fluff from one of my wips. I think i might've worked on this after the drawing

Obi-wan’s hands lingered on his face, brushing the cold droplets left by snow away, absently exploring. Cody was silent, not able to think of a single thing to say with obi wan so close to him. His breath hitched when he brushed his thumb against his bottom lip. Even that light touch sent his head spinning and tilted the world on its axis — cody couldnt think straight.

“Cody, can I…?” Obi-Wan breathed.

“I dont know, can you?” He murmured before instantly regretting his entire life and wanting to scream at himself for that remark- just shut up and say yes, hes literally offering—

Obi-Wan laughed, so undeniably him, that it brought cody out of his mental spiral. “May I?”

“If you must.”

“I think I might just,” he murmured before closing the

This is legit where i left it lol

Tagging @lightasthesun @snowywinterevenings @anxiousotters and anyone else who wants to play and if you remember the rules that could be helpful

[lifeinpoetry]

i write my dead name in my father’s obituary. i don’t even think about it.

my dead name doesn’t feel like such a dead name while i’m standing next to my dad’s corpse.

i don’t feel bad about writing my dead name in my dead dad’s obituary. what does it matter which name my dad used to call me when he can’t call me anything anymore.

in this moment, i don’t give a fuck about what my gender is or isn’t. what people think it is or isn’t.

there are some things that are alive, and i am one of them.

and there are some things that are dead.

— Ollie Schminkey, from "i write my dead name in my father’s obituary," Dead Dad Jokes

[formaldehydeaddict]

i’m high right now but its not enough. i want something better i dont want to feel sensation.

i think i will stare at my ceiling while i get myself higher and daydream about 📸 strapping me down and administering me copious amounts of morphine.

i want to watch him get hard seeing the ivs twitching with my pulse (thats rushing so loudly in my ears that i cant even think.) oh what i wouldnt give to see his cock throbbing desperately while he twists and moves the needle under my skin while i’m too high to even scream or do anything about it. i want to be paralyzed underneath him.

maybe if he plays with it enough he could open up the wound to slip in a finger or two… he could pull on and stretch out my tendons and study how my muscles react, we find all the ways we could explore the human design so intimately together… he would be so beautiful with my blood on his face from eating out his work.

[talkethtothehandeth]

I found out through google that an old friend died and i feel weird and can’t breathe sometimes and death is weird and dying sucks and life goes on

[youcanthandelthetruth]

.

held my brother's birthday party saturday, he would have been 30 this year. swapped parks at the last minute because they were holding Juneteenth celebrations at Old Settlers and charging for parking. found out later that someone shot 14 people there. killed a schoolteacher and a lawyer and injured little children.

idk. combination of near miss for my family. and those families going for a happy celebration of their culture and getting the worst day of their lives instead. it's not mine to take personally but i am.

[snarp]

When clients and their families leave clusters of confusing phone messages, and you can't figure out who's related to whom, or how they're related, or how to spell their names, or whether the "Tina" on the line is the one you're supposed to talk to or the one who opened fire... you invariably wind up in someone's obituary. They can block each other on Facebook, but there's no escaping great-uncle Randy's "survived by."

[slowwshoww]

everyone keeps being like "oh yeah do you wanna do [thing that absolutely needs to be done]?" and i say yes but truly the answer is no i just want to lay down and go to sleep

[anarkissm]

∗ o4﹕ sender  offers  receiver  an  earbud  to  share  their  music .

frosh week is an enduring tradition. hundreds of transferring undergraduates and freshmen students are processed through the university's orientation. and then released, like fireflies inside a too-small jar. drinking. partying. optional clothing. the occasional awkward, pretentious flirting. sporting events and workshops and pub crawls and ice-breaking games. on and on and on, for seven days and seven nights.

every night feels like a battlefield. every victory is ultimately part of a longer game. loud, raucous voices and overheated bodies. stumbling back to her dormitory in the late evening with her old combat boots and an oversized military shirt that she never owned, worn under her blazer; the name on the tag reads HARRIS, and she tries not to ruminate on the creeping realization that she does not remember if she won it, or stole it. a part of her prefers not to remember.

claudette untucks her boots from her feet and hooks them on her fingers, slowly maneuvering through the crowded halls. sighs with no relief, as she notices the red sock hanging over the doorknob of the dorm room she shares with another student.

@obituaried​ finds her sitting near the mouth of the corridor, elbows braced over her knees, resting her chin on the heels of her palms. she feels her skin burn, darker with embarrassment.

"megan left the do-not-disturb sock on the door again,"  she shrugs, sheepish. looking up at him, claudette thinks she can disern the pity that furrows his eyebrows, lowers his body to sit by hers, a piece of his earphones offered to her like a lifeline.  smiling, grateful, as she accepts it, fingers plucking the earbud from his palm.

"i-it's not another scary podcast, right?"

[theholmwoodfoundation]

I am curious about the lore on how Holmwood made this whole Thing

OBITUARY Lord Arthur Godalming Died January 12th 1952 Leading Founder of The Holmwood Foundation

Lord Arthur Godalming, who received an OBE in 1930 for services to medicine and his philanthropic contributions, passed away from old age last week in his home in Surrey. Sir Godalming is best known to the public for founding The Holmwood Foundation. The Foundation was set up in 1894 after the tragic death of his fiancée, Lucy Westenra four years prior. It is well known that blood infusions were used to help treat her serious illness, and that was what prompted him to work closely with Professor Abraham Van Helsing and noted scientific colleagues in the field to pioneer research into the field of classic haematology, building and financing some of the most advanced laboratories in the world. He is survived by his widow and two adopted daughters.

Published in The Lancet, 1952

[doodlebugdpj]

Have fun up there sweet girl!!!! May you always be happy!!! 🥹💔

RIP Kabosu, who inspired one of the most influential memes of all time; Doge.

2/11/2005 - 24/5/24

[la-principessa-nuova]

i came across this while looking for something completely unrelated, but here is a link to some random guy i don't know's obituary

it's very much not your standard obituary and it left me thinking about how much i don't want a standard obituary

like honestly the last thing i want to do is die (which is a huge improvement from last year) and the last thing i want to be doing up until then is thinking about when i do

but when i do, i want it to be very clear what to put in my obituary

i want the people writing it to know they're the ones to write it, and i want their only concern to be making it funny enough and deciding what needs to be cut for time

i want strangers to see my obituary and find it interesting and funny and to get an idea of who i am based on the things i did

i don't want it to be a couple paragraphs listing my family members and saying they loved me

"she was a cherished member of the community and leaves behind her darling--" boring, boring, boring

give me content!

give me "in 2045, after accidentally setting the cincinnati zoo on fire, she fled to canada where she opened up a pizzeria and arcade."

don't give me "she was a hard worker"

give me "after the fire at the arcade, she disappeared for twelve years, about which we've only heard strange rumors, and reappeared on stage at the Oscars in a lab-grown replica of the Lady Gaga meat dress."

don't give me "she passed away peacefully in her sleep"

give me "yes, she is responsible for what happened to the moon, and no, we cannot find her body."

[evilyaoi]

it's weird without him. he was around 17 years old. he's lived in this house with us the whole time we've been here and now it feels quiet. i expect to see him at my feet. i walk over to where his bed was but it isn't there. we had to throw it away. he couldn't walk anymore in his last days so he soiled it. he just lay on the floor in the middle of the room drooling. the day he died they said we'd take him back to the vet if he survived the night. i knew it was the end. i thought we would end up putting him down. but i guess i didn't expect him to just die there. petting his body in the plastic storage bin we laid him in i expected him to move. close his eyes, bite my hand, swat me away. it still hasn't really set in i don't think. i haven't cried about it. i remember looking up at the sky before we put him in the trunk and feeling bad for thinking it was kind of a funny day to die. all cloudy and gloomy like a movie or something. i should've been nicer to him i think. even if he was kind of a bastard. i loved that bastard. still do. at least he's not hurting now

[yeojagroup]

on june 2nd i discovered my mother's body, and today we can finally bury her. i need this to all be over. i need this part of it, at least, to be behind me.

[the-kriller]

I just realized I hate myself

[fanboyistransboy]

My friend is writing my obituary for a class assignment which is pretty exciting.