#emetophobia

[just-bee-lieve]

2 / 5

“So please pay close attention when learning how to operate these suits, as accidents, slash injury, slash death, slash irreparable and grotesque maiming, can occur.”

[without-any-title]

hehe :3 felt a little freaky

all of that freakiness is bc of you @howlsofbloodhounds

version without the eye below

[wanologic]

reminder to take care of your loser human body

[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

[stealingyourbones]

Jason startles as a stranger on the streets of Gotham takes one look at him, looks at him in absolute horror, and then runs to the closest dumpster and vomits into it.

Jason is mildly offended. He doesn’t look that bad does he? — Danny glances back to look at the undead staring at him on the sidewalk and nearly vomits again. His soul is shattered. It’s like looking at a human after being hit by a car at 60mph who’s acting like they’re perfectly fine as they walk towards you. — Jason approaches the stranger, one hand hovering over the shoulder of the guy and asks; “Hey man what’s your problem? What's the deal w-”

The once retching passerby moves imperceptibly quick. His hands go through Jason’s chest and before he can even react he feels something snap back into place.

Jason can barely remember screaming as he near instantly blacks out from the pain.

[thinkingabout-girls]

i am so so normal about media and have exactly zero mental illnesses

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[looks-to-the-moon-cock]

Picture with very obvious intersex imagery:

Perisex people: LOOK AT HOW NONBINARY THEY ARE!!! SO COOL! PROPER REPRESENTATION!!!

Me, a transneutral intersex person: *proceeds to go vomit*

[pixlokita]

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[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

wake up wintersberg nation

[pmpwbrrs]

Gourmand why are you like this. How can you make living things out of the blue fruit you ate 3 minutes ago. How do you make a living breathing fucking snail? You can't even eat it, and yet you can spit it out, how the hell does that work? Put that thing back!!! Why is it alive??

And how can you make a goddamn neuron from an overseer and. What was this.... Hold on

AND KARMA FLOWER. And how can you make an overseer from neuron+ANYTHING!!!!! FROM ANYTHING!!!!!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.

[bubblebaath]

All your comments are floating around in the comment section like fish bubbles. Bloop bloop bloop.

[deceased-bunny]

"Where we always wanted to go"

[adnrewminyard]

imagine being kevin day, son of exy, born and bred to be a cog in the well-oiled machine that is the edgar allan ravens. all you know being the routine of practice and practice and practice and performance and victory alongside those you call brothers.

-and then one day you wake up in your estranged father's apartment between a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of vodka and there is a knot of bandages where your future used to be. you don't wake up at 4am anymore. you sleep until noon and vomit the remainders of life as you knew it into unfamiliar toilets. you watch orange and white clash against each other from sidelines you haven't touched since you started growing facial hair.

your brother doesn't ask you to come home. you would come if he asked. the days are longer here and the food is too rich. the colors are too harsh, the language barrier is too much. you speak and no one understands.

they feel sorry for you, but not for what you have lost, instead for what you have suffered. you try to show them what belonging means, to sever parts of yourself to fit inside a uniform, but they don't understand the necessity of the blade the way your brothers did. they don't understand that suffering feels religious if you do it right.

the therapist tells you it's survivor's guilt but the only survivors you can see are on the court in black and red and they read your eulogy after the game at a press conference. you are not a survivor in any way that matters anymore. how treacherous your heart is for continuing to beat when you can't even hold your lifeline in your hand without dropping it.

you want to go home but your key doesn't open the same door anymore. you want to sit beside your brother but there is no space on his side of the table. you want to be a raven but you are a fox.

you grieve for connection until there is a knife where your neck guard used to sit. you grieve for your life until a boy offers to show you how it feels to survive. you offer to show him how it feels to live. he tells you he won't sever parts of himself to fit the uniform, but there are telltale bloodstains in the fabric from long before you asked.

you wake up at 4am again. you take turns vomiting in the toilet, you when the alcohol level dips too low and him when his smile runs out. he doesn't speak your language but he understands it. he keeps the car running when you visit the therapist. he keeps an eye on your back to watch the 02 on your jersey turn orange. the colors don't seem as harsh anymore.

he offers you safety. he offers you belonging. he offers you the only thing he knows how to give, the only thing you know how to take.

he offers you a lifeline. you pick it up with your right hand.

[juniikatt]

[ In the sky in my mind,

Between my eyes

Within my eyes

I don’t know why,

but can you feel me melt away? ]

- Terrible Things, Brick + Mortar