#death mention //////

[prokopetz]

Seeing "toxic yuri fan" in their blog header and skimming their last few dozen posts to see whether that's toxic yuri as in "I have ambivalent feelings about the central relationship in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, a PG-rated cartoon for children" or toxic yuri as in "I want them to kill and eat each other".

[disasterhimbo]

[ID: The first image is a picture of a cat wearing glasses who resembles Kim Kitsuragi from Disco Elysium.

The second image is art of the cat in the Disco Elysium style.

The third image are tumblr tags that say, “so this is that missing cat in the alps ive heard so much about.”

End ID.]

Man, I almost drank myself to death yesterday, I can't even remember my name, if only there was someone that could help me.

The the trustworthy and saint-like lieutenant:

[starscreamisreginageorge]

Facing the Past

Ratchet and Wheeljack go down to the sublevels to see what can be salvaged. Whilst down there the reality of Wheeljack's past hits them both.

For the first time in 50 cycles the mines were devoid of life, with energon now freely flowing again it was hardly worth the risk of gathering their sole resource. The equipment used to mine the materials however, that they could find use for. Which partially explained how Ratchet and Wheeljack had found themselves making their way down into the abandoned sublevels. At first the idea had been for a group half made up of ex-miners and  to go down and collect as much equipment as they could carry. That was until it had been pointed out that sending a group of people, of whom half of which would not know what the equipment was for, and the other half would not know whether it could be repurposed at all, might not be the most efficient method. So in the end Optimus had asked Wheeljack, arguably the only person on cybertron who fit into both groups, to head down and catalog everything. He wasn’t entirely sure why Ratchet had volunteered to help him but he wasn’t going to complain. The older mech was fast becoming a good friend to him, and he was keen to see his reaction to his old home. Though home was not really the right word for it. Sure he’d recharged down here, spent time with his friends, ate, all the things you did in your home. But could you ever call a place like that a home?  ‘Well here we are.’ he said as they stepped into a room full of recharge pods. At first Ratchet said nothing as he stood in the doorway. Trying to not let it bother him, Wheeljack made his way over to one of the pods. In the past he could have stepped inside it no problem. But now, well even if he somehow managed to squeeze his body inside he’d probably have to keep his head bent.

‘Wow I’d forgotten how small I used to be.’ he laughed as he glanced back at Ratchet.

‘These are sparkling pods.’ Ratchet’s words at a surface level sounded like a simple statement. But Wheeljack could tell there was more underneath them. You were smaller then, small as a sparkling. He didn’t want to think about it.

‘Come on the equipment lockers are down this way. That’ll be a good place to start.’ 

***

‘Oh and that’s where the mine shaft Jazz nearly died in was, you can tell because of the scorch marks.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure but it seemed like Wheeljack was talking more down here than he’d ever known him to before. Granted they hadn’t known each other that long. Still it wasn’t a comfortable chatter, more the kind you make when you’re trying to distract yourself. His servo’s were also moving seemingly non stop. Not the flapping motion he did when he was talking about his latest project, but a clenching, unclenching motion that seemed to indicate to Ratchet that he wasn’t happy to be back down here. Not that he could blame him. Still as much as he was eager to get out of there himself, seriously Ratchet was no believer in the supernatural but there was something haunted about this place, they should probably take a break.

‘I don’t know about you but I really could do with something to eat right about now.’

‘What? Oh yeah sure, go ahead.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but he could have sworn Wheeljack had grown even more uncomfortable.

‘You should eat something too.’

‘Yeah alright. In a bit.’

‘Did you not bring your own supply? If you didn’t I can share mine but you really should…’

‘I’ve got my own supply.’ Wheeljack cut in. Ratchet blinked in surprise. He’d never heard Wheeljack snap at someone like that before. He’d been snarky at times, and he’d heard him grumble a little. But he’d never known him to snap like that.

‘Sorry.’ Wheeljack sighed. ‘It’s just. I don’t really like eating in front of others.’ Now Ratchet was curious.

‘How come?’ No response. ‘Has it got anything to do with your mask?’

‘It’s not a mask. I mean it is a mask, but it’s also my face… I’m not really sure how I can explain it.’

‘Well why don’t you show me.’ When Wheeljack didn’t move or speak, Ratchet added. ‘I’m a medic Wheeljack, whatever it is. I've probably already seen it, or I’ve seen worse.’ That seemed to convince the younger mech who reached up and grabbed the mask. This surprised Ratchet, he’d expected it to retract into his head like any other mask. Instead Wheeljack pulled it off along with what looked like most of his mandible. In fact, seeing him without it, Ratchet realised that the mask was the entire lower half of his face.

‘So doc, seen anything like this before?’ It was odd hearing him talk when he  had no mouth, his face ended part way down his nose ridge. Ratchet wasn’t even sure how it was possible. Whatever had done this to him must have hit him at a very specific angle so as to spare his vocalizer.

‘I can’t say I have. But how exactly does something like this happen?’

‘I was one of the first miners.’ Wheeljack began. ‘Back then no one really knew how the mines worked, so there were a lot of casualties. Not many of us survived, so I guess I’m lucky in a way.’

‘What happened?’

‘A drill exploded in my face. It wasn’t a big explosion. But the top half hit me with enough force that it tore my face off.’

‘And you never got it fixed.’

‘Couldn’t afford it. Since I could still work and there was no “further risk to life” any attempts to repair the damage would be considered cosmetic.’ For a moment Ratchet said nothing. He was angry, not at the younger mech, but at… Well at Sentinel mostly. How many miners had died under his care from mining injuries, when they should never have been down here in the first place. He still remembered that one femme that had been brought in, her spark by some twisted miracle had still been going. But her helm had been so badly crushed there was no way her processor could have survived. He had sat with her until she died, though he doubted she was able to think or feel anything the whole time. She should never have been down here, she never should have died. Not like that. What had been her name? J something. She hadn’t even had a real name.

‘Well we’d better eat something. Sooner we do that the sooner we can leave.’ he said breaking the silence. For a moment he thought Wheeljack would argue. But instead he simply nodded and took a seat on an upturned mine cart. Ratchet sat down next to him and watched as he pulled out a bag of liquid energon, with a long tube attached.

‘Uh do you want to eat before I do this?’ Wheeljack offered. ‘It’s just I know a lot of people get put off their own meals when I eat.’

‘Medic remember.’ Ratchet wasn’t sure how someone could give off the impression of a grin, especially when they had almost no face, but Wheeljack somehow managed it.

‘If you’re sure.’ Ratchet watched, now curious, as Wheeljack took the tube and tilting his head back began to feed it down his throat.

‘You know one of the good things about this is I can talk and eat at the same time.’ Wheeljack said.

‘So I can see.’ Ratchet said getting his own energon out.

‘Not that I often have anyone to talk to when I eat.’ Ratchet nodded and began to eat. It didn’t take him long to finish and when he did he noticed Wheeljack’s bag was only half empty.

‘Sorry it can take a while.’ Wheeljack said when he saw him looking.

‘It’s fine.’ Ratchet reassured him. ‘I guess you got a lot of scrap for,’ for what? The way he looked, the way he ate?

‘Everything?’ Ratchet nodded

‘Yeah.’ Wheeljack agreed. ‘I mean my friends were fine with it, newbies could be a bit funny about it. Guess I was an unpleasant reminder of how risky the job could be. But they got over it eventually, for the most part. It was Darkwing that gave me the most scrap for it. Kind of ironic for a guy who didn’t even have a face.’ Ratchet made a sound that could have been a snort or a scoff at that.

‘Of course he did.’ 

***

They were about to make their way up the stairs when Wheeljack stopped and looked back.

‘What is it?’ Ratchet asked.

‘Nothing I’m just… Is it weird to say goodbye to a place you hated?’ He watched the older mech’s face carefully, but found he couldn’t read it.

‘I have a feeling it’s more than just this place you’re saying goodbye to.’ Wheeljack wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but in a way he understood. Taking one last look around he silently said farewell to the place, before continuing up the stairs. 

‘You know I could probably fix your face if you’d like?’ Ratchet said, nearly causing Wheeljack to stop walking in surprise. He thought about it for a moment. Then shook his head.

‘I’ve been like this for most of my life. I know it sounds weird but, this is me. It’s not always the easiest thing to live with. But I can’t see myself being any other way.’ He expected Ratchet to argue.

‘Alright if you feel that way. But my offer will remain open if you ever change your mind.’

[podcastwizard]

ideal ways for me to die

1. old age, peacefully in my sleep

2. after a long and illustrious career i am at a rooftop gala hosted in my honor. i am wearing a beautiful gown, holding a glass of red wine, standing by the railing. a scorned lover approaches and, after a passionate spat, they push me over the edge of the building. the wine glass goes flying, splattering their outfit in red as a visual metaphor for the blood on their hands. as i descend my gown flies around me like two beautiful wings, a bird in flight. a photographer on the street manages to take a photo before i hit the ground and that photo wins the pulitzer. a new york times think piece is released regarding whether or not it's moral to profit off a photo of someone's death. the think piece also wins a pulitzer.

3. sex accident.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

girl what

[ribghoul]

my girlfriend is able to take like a 20-min nap and bounce back with full energy. idk how she does that. when i lie down i wake up 12 years later in a hospital bed i rip the IV out of my arm and stumble into the hallway the whole building is littered with bodies, i make my way back to my house but my wife and children are long gone

[earhartsease]

we still get immediately shoved out of our immersion in tv shows or films when The Girl find a dead body and immediately shrieks - we just don't find it realistic because we're pretty confident most people would gasp rather than shriek (i.e. sharp inhale rather than sharp exhale) and it also feels unnecessarily (and predictably) misogynistic too, as men encountering corpses almost never do the same on screen

also of course please do tell us if you've actually encountered a corpse unexpectedly, because tumblr is absolutely a place where some people have done this thing and we love a good anecdote

suddenly imagining "burst into song" as a potential response

edit: since lots of people are still responding to this (we were amazed at the huge response over a just 24 hour poll), we want to make it clearer that we were never saying "of course nobody shrieks", we were railing against how on screen, women always do in an over dramatic way, and when men do it's made fun of like they've emasculated themselves by shrieking (so it's clearly a deliberate misogynistic trope)

meanwhile of course some people do shriek, as clearly demonstrated not just by the nearly 11% in the poll, but by all the tags we got inundated with - the main responses seem to be: gasp, swear loudly, vomit, grunt or make some other kind of other inarticulate noise, and shriek

anyway, thanks for playing

[420technoblazeit]

has anybody else seen the bit in tommy's new video yet. where he asks mumbo jumbo if he can revive technoblade with redstone. bc that actually made my jaw DROP hol yshit. the pause just before he says it. you can hear the gears turning in phil's head as he realizes what tommy's about to say. the immediate psychic damage. truly horrid thank you tommy. ik techno would be losing it over that joke

[crabussy]

hi gang. reminder that we are some of the best sweaters in the animal kingdom (second only to equines) allowing us to stay cool and keep moving in hot weather. we have 10 times the density of sweat glands compared to other great apes.

we are ALSO insanely good at smelling rain (specifically geosmin, found in the soil and activated by rain) with the ability to smell 10 parts per trillion. this is speculated to have helped our ancestors survive!

we ALSO have absolutely batshit diets compared to most other animals. caffeine and chocolate are completely toxic to most animals but we can eat it without even feeling sick. even avocados are severely toxic to many animals to the point where it can be fatal to eat, but humans love it!!!

we are ALSO the best endurance runners ON EARTH out of ANY other species. we beat horses in endurance running. you know, the animals that gradually evolved away most of their toes in order to be the best runners?? yeahhh.

and to top it all off. our lifespan is unusually long for our species' weight/mass. typically, the bigger a species is, the longer its average lifespan (e.g. weasels live for 1-2 years, whales can live over 200) but we're very small for how long our average lifespan is. big cats like tigers live around 14-15 years, brown bears 25 years, yet here we are expected to live around 75-85 years. that is NUTS.

humans as a species are so extremely cool. it's not just our intellect that makes us amazing. we may not be the fastest or the strongest in the animal kingdom but we're super cool in many other ways. next time you sweat you can go wow!!! humans are so cool I'm able to keep moving because of my absolutely insane number of sweat glands! thank you evolution!

[prokopetz]

Enemies-to-lovers situationship where both parties are genuinely unclear on whether they're actually trying to kill each other or whether it's just a mutual bit they're doing and at this point they're afraid to ask.

[kawaiijohn]

After the hurricane recovery is starting in the states and the damage is so bad in some places, they're either gone or don't have a single road left into town.

The power outage map for the states affected is honestly astounding. I actually know friends in southwestern Ohio that had a tornado/cyclonic thunderstorm from this system knock their power out.

Some places might not get power back for 2+ weeks.

The western half of North Carolina, where the Appalachian mountains are, is so badly damaged that some news stations are warning from any travel, and to consider every road closed until further notice.

Asherville is so damaged there seem to be almost no major roads left in or out of town.

The flooding from this storm is devastating and has destroyed entire towns and wiped some off the map. Damns and other infrastructure are failing all over the affected areas.

Until the flood waters recede sometime in the next few days, we won't have a full scope of just how badly people have been affected, nor will we have a final death toll.

Oh also, apparently the governor of Tennessee has not declared a state of emergency despite several places being catastrophically inundated. Instead he's done this, which is pissing a lot of people off.

[fghniki]

shout out to technoblade for posting new videos from beyond the grave. commitment to the grind we should all be striving towards

[thebibliosphere]

Not to keep reliving trauma on main, but I'm getting weird deja vu from where my health was a few years ago and where it's at now. And most of it is revolving around Good Omens.

In May of 2019, we genuinely thought I was dying because I was dying. My organs were in the process of shutting down because my red blood cells were prematurely self-destructing and damaging my kidneys in the process, and I was rapidly coming to terms with the fact that I might not survive much longer. I'd fought the good fight, and I'd lost. Mostly due to medical neglect. And I was mad about a lot of things, but do you know what I remember from the traumatic blur I'm left with?

"I'm going to be so pissed if I die before Good Omens comes out."

I'd waited 20+ years at that point for something like a tv adaptation of Good Omens. Ever since I was a child and my dad read the book to me, and I fell in love with it. And here I was, mere weeks away from the TV release and on the verge of death.

Then like a miracle, a miracle that hinged on human compassion and a doctor being willing to listen to me, I was saved. Dragged back from the jaws of death by a relentless hematology department that refused to give up on me and ultimately saved my life. And a week later, I got to watch Good Omens propped up in my own bed, still weak, still ill, with my heart stuttering in my chest every time I laughed. And I remember thinking, "I did it. I got to see it."

That it's now it's 2023 and my health has tanked again. My organs are rebelling against me and no one seems to know why. But yet again, a few weeks before Good Omens is set to release, I find a doctor who listens to me and is doing all he can to help. Striving with the grim kind of determination that can only come from a place of compassion and care. Like my world is worth saving, and not just his.

Which is rather fitting, I think.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Two people were talking and one went, "That's a funky dead guy on your necklace," to which the other replies, "That's Jesus Christ."

[sorin-sunchild]

I know I shouldn't let it but "when you die you'll be buried as your birth gender!" really bothers me. Even though I'll be dead so it's not like I'll know.

It bothers me because it's real.

It happens all the time.

And it leaves a grief like no other.

Cutting the hair of a dead girl because you never had a daughter no matter how well she lived, forcing her to be buried under a name she didn't use, memorial photos too old to show anything accurate. Not for her. Not to remember her. Not to honour her. To make you feel better. Because you 'fixed' her. You 'got back your son'. Selfish.

He lived his life as a man, he lived a good life and was a good man. You bury him in a dress. You use a picture of a little girl who exists only in your memories. You value that memory over him. His friends have no idea who the girl you're talking about is. You do it for yourself. One last act of disrespect.

To all the daughters buried as sons. To all the sons buried as daughters. I hope you found peace and that peace was your true self no matter how you were buried. I hope you are respected in the memories of at least one friend, one scattering of posts on a website, a discussion on the lips of outraged queers, a fire of supportive outrage.