az-cain

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libsoftiktok going after a beloved inventor furry for some reason

if you're wearing a fitbit, you're using spottacus's technology. be grateful.

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I wanna reread the one roosterbruiser fic where nightingale is torn between rooster and hangman and they’re totally in love but also one is a murderer and possessed 😌↕️ gonna go find it again

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Hey guys I have learned that my all-consuming thoughts of my loved ones’ suicide was actually not my PTSD but OCD sooo go get y’all selves checked out it thoughts like these are constantly in your head

I’m Sorry. I’m Sorry. I’m Sorry.

Jake Seresin ≈ 800 words

This is based entirely on my experiences with PTSD, which is from CSA not war or grief. My apologies if it’s inaccurate to your experiences, but please do not invalidate my own.

TW FOR: First person descriptions of PTSD, descriptions of dead bodies, delusion related to PTSD, self-hatred, alcoholism as a coping mechanism, denial of PTSD/mental illness

@tgm-all4one

Fire. The world’s engulfed in fire. Stench. The world smells like your burning flesh, scorching metal and glass. The oil of the F-14 burns on top of the water, the blue water turning black. The fuselage is floating, bodies glaring in the afternoon light. Your brown eyes stare at the sky, Captain Mitchell’s eyes obscured by bloody water.

Tears. I feel hot tears streak down my face as I hover in the rescue heli. They’re striking my visor. I can’t see. Stop crying. Stop crying. Men don’t cry. Stop crying. It’s part of the job. Stop crying.

Echoes. The echoes of Bradshaw’s words fill my ears. The only place you're going to lead anyone is an early grave; the only place you're going to lead anyone is an early grave; the only place—

The bed’s so cold. I should be used to waking up like this, but I’m not. The sheets are wet with my sweat, so I’ll dry my eyes and rise stiffly from the bed, stripping the sheets and walking to the laundry room.

—

It’s consuming me. Maybe Bradshaw’s killed himself. Maybe I wasn’t able to save him. Not in any way that mattered.

No. He’s alive.

But what if he isn’t?

He’s fine.

No he isn’t.

He’s dead.

Fuck, he’s dead.

Fuck, tears are running down my face. I’m sorry, Bradshaw. I wanted to save you.

I know you’re hurting too. I know you wish you’d died back then. You’d be with your family. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.

Fuck, my phone is in my hand. His number is pulled up and ringing.

Fuck, he picked up.

“Hey.”

Oh. He’s alive. Don’t say anything. Maybe he’ll think it was a butt dial. God, I wanna say something.

“Hangman?”

“Don’t call me that.” Shit. I don’t wanna be Hangman. I’m Jake, let me be Jake. Let me be Jake.

“Oh. Okay. Seresin. What’s up?”

I was convinced you’d killed yourself. I don’t know if I made the right choice saving you. It got me disciplined. No, that’s not why. Fuck. It was worth it, but do you think so? Do you want to live?

“I’m just checking in on you. Difficult day today, anniversary and all, you know?”

“Yeah.” You swallow so loudly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stress you out. “It’s definitely been that. And you? Was it hard for you?”

God yes. It was so hard. I haven’t stopped crying all day. My throat hurts. My eyes hurt. My heart hurts.

“Not too bad. I wasn’t the one who almost died, I was mostly just concerned for you.”

“Oh. Well yeah, but you took someone else’s life that day. I’d get it if you were a little stressed.”

Yeah. I did. My second person I’ve murdered. That pilot had a family. Neither of you did. Maybe they should have lived. You two could have died and not been missed so dearly. But I would have missed you. God, I’m so selfish. I’m sorry.

“I’m alright. Just making sure you’re alright.”

“Yeah, Seresin. I’ll make it.”

“Good. Have a good night, Bradshaw.”

“You, too.”

—

This stupid fucking bottle is empty. I didn’t drink it all. I took a glass last night. I know this is a problem. My throat hurts. All the lights are on in the house. I’m scared of the dark again. I can see everything so clearly. My eyes hurt. Fuck. I can't see anything.

I need to vomit. I can't walk. The bathroom is so far away. Oh. I have a trash can. It’s closer. I stumble towards it, falling onto my knees with a groan. Dammit. I’m so useless. Why am I still sobbing? I’m good for nothing, a sissy. They all made it out, you fucking moron. Everyone’s fine but you. Come on. Come on. Come on.

I hurl into the trash can. It tastes really bad. Like stomach acid and whiskey, because that’s pretty much all that’s in it. I think I should lay down. So I will. I’ll lay down right here and sleep.

—

The sun hurts my eyes. The kitchen window is letting too much light in. I wonder what time it is. Usually the light doesn’t come through this window until about noon. I’m trying to cover my eyes, but they still hurt as I look at the clock. 1300. It’s late. I had a date this morning.

Too bad, I guess. Good for nothing.

I should call her. Apologize. Or maybe the military therapist. Apologize. Nah. I’ll be fine. I’ll deal with it on my own.

At least there were no nightmares tonight.

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I’m probably not gonna come back to Tumblr on a regular basis but I still get a little teary-eyed seeing new comments and interactions on the stuff I’ve written :’)

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team principal suguru you’re too sexy ahaha

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SOBBING THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL

monaco, coanda effect 🏎️

f1 satosugu inspired by coanda effect on ao3 by @bunniehoneys

suguru’s 2012 monaco win was written soooo well i had to draw it 🥹🥹 (the reference photo is of lewis and nico in 2008 melbourne so the trophy is inaccurate, its supposed to be the monaco circuit 😭 and also i took liberties with the color of the race suit, and yes suguru stepped down from his podium to celebrate w satoru)

ofc i had to add “monaco” 2022 sketches because really it was just them being idiots in love in monaco

cannot recommend coanda effect enough; its a genius piece of emotional writing that has my whole heart and the past/present povs 🫶

lewis win on sunday reallyyy got me through this

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rb to stare at a mutual like this:

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Really happy to see this at my local library

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this duo in coanda effect tho 🫢 bi panic intensifies 🫣

yukiiiiiiii 😩🏎️💨

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THANK YOU 😭 I haven’t been on here in an age and this made me so happy 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

self care hcs

moon system x reader ≈ 1.1k words masterlist here

the beard is the gif below 😗

—

shaving

sometimes the boys get busy and they’ll forget to shave, or sometimes they just don’t have a razor

jake really really wants to grow it out into a full beard

steven likes the clean-shaven look or a little bit of stubble, but is fine with whatever

marc wants a full beard. badly.

when they go on long trips, jake and marc get their wish. they get a nice beard.

one time, they come home after a long trip and you decide that you really like their beard

it’s a little scratchy while it’s growing out, but feels nice when they kiss you

plus, they look really good with it

from then on, they usually let it grow to about that length

whenever marc is fronting, he likes to trim it with the fancy little shears you’d gotten him a little while ago

you got them when you noticed him trimming his beard with steven’s craft scissors and that would not do

so you bought him some and gave them to him, showing him how to fit him fingers into the small holes and rest his pinky over the ring

you helped him get straight cuts by holding the hair between two fingers and overlapping each piece he cut with the next to get it even

hair cutting

you also cut their hair for them most of the time

it was about a monthly occurrence, their latino genes making their hair grow wayyyy faster than most people’s

marc didn’t really trust people other than you and himself with sharp objects next to his head, too many bad experiences in the marines

the first few times with the new shears you missed a few spots, but found them within a day while you were playing with their hair

you went “oh crap” and tugged them back to the bathroom to fix the mistakes

they didn’t care much, as long as marc felt that he looked tidy enough to take himself seriously

marc wanted really short hair, a high and tight like he had as a marine

jake wanted to grow his hair out, long enough to pull back into a little man-bun or pony tail, with an undercut underneath

steven liked their haircut, and he got to make that call a) because it was an in-between from jakes’s and marc’s wishes and b) because he was the one who had a normal 9-5 job with the most human interaction

jake liked to front when you were cutting their hair, the feeling of your fingers and comb soothing him in a way most other things couldn’t (for once, he felt protected)

you eventually got really good at cutting their hair, perfecting the fade from long to short. they were so happy with it every time and it made you super happy

showering

they all love showering with you, obviously

marc takes super short showers, ever the military man (5-10 mins)

jake takes long, burning hot showers, and sometimes even baths (30-45 mins)

steven takes hot showers and often forgets he’s in there (like hour-long showers)

they all have different soaps, which can get a little pricey, but you’re all fairly well off so it’s okay

marc has vanilla bar soap for his body and scentless nivea men’s shampoo and conditioner

he’s the most likely to buy 3-in-1 in a pinch or while on a mission

jake has orange and sandalwood scented shampoo, conditioner, and body wash

he also has a long-ass facial routine every night before bed, and you’ll often stand beside him and do your own: neutrogena salicylic acid facial cleanser, sephora toner, a serum that’s way too expensive, eye cream because he never sleeps, and a neutrogena hydro-boost moisturizer

he won’t let you touch his face for 10 minutes after his routine is done, no exceptions unless you’re crying

steven uses everist vegan shampoo and conditioner that comes in nice little waste-free aluminum tubes (except the cap, which he diligently returns to the company), and uses a nice bar of vanilla body wash from a local market

water. literally just water.

steven is the most likely to stay hydrated with a conscious effort all the time, but jake is just always thirsty

you got each of them a nice 30 oz bottle: navy blue for marc, sunflower yellow for steven, and burgundy for jake

steven’s is absolutely covered in stickers and dents, and he fills it up and drinks it 3 times a day at work

marc’s has very few dents, meticulous as he is. he’s pretty forgetful, but does his best to remember it and when he does, he gets through the bottle

jake’s is barely a cylinder anymore. it’s also not recognizable as red. everywhere he goes, he gets a sticker. everywhere. if he sees one while he’s on a mission, he’ll grab it and stick it in his bag to put on later that night. he has to fill it 10-11 times/day on missions, 4-5 if he’s not being too active

working out

jake fronts to run three miles every morning and does strength training at least 5 times per week. usually it’s early in the morning, he never sleeps more than 10 hours, and that’s only after hard missions. otherwise it’s a max of 8 hours. very unhinged.

marc likes to do cardio at night, especially if he’s stressed, which is 7 times out of 10

steven doesn’t work out. like ever. not even when he’s upset.

overall the body gets in 3-6 miles per day, and about 3 hours of strength training per day minimum

they’re strong as fuck

eating habits

jake, as the protector, knows how to cook

he also really enjoys it, cooking for you and himself at night or waking you up with a nice breakfast after he’s gotten back from the gym and showered

steven likes to eat, but oftentimes forgets, especially if he has his nose buried in a book

you’ve taken to leaving snacks on his desk— apples, pears, bits of the dark chocolate you know he likes— and packing him a lunch every day before work. you try to get him in a little of every food group: some yogurt, pinwheels, and more chocolate is his favorite meal you pack him

marc forgets all the time. every time he fronts, especially around a meal time, you grab him something good to eat. if he fronts for long periods of time, you’ll pack him full meals that will last with or without cooling. you always throw some beef jerky into his bag, too.

masterlist here

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I recently found my “gold” hammer after misplacing it. It’s my favorite tool ever because it looks like a regular hammer trying to be fancy,

but then you twist both halves and unscrew it to find a flat-head screwdriver in the middle.

BUT, if you twist the very end and unscrew that

you find a phillips screwdriver.

BUT DON’T THINK THAT’S ALL THERE IS! THERE’S MORE!! unscrew the very end again to find a smaller flat-head screwdriver!

BUT THAT’S STILL NOT THE END!!

unscrew the end of this screwdriver to find a final, teeny tiny, flat-head screwdriver

look at how cute it is!

it’s like a matryoshka doll of tools.

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Consider:

You died with a remarkable fortune and no heirs. You grant your wealth to two rivalling schools in the same city, under one condition: One of them must always keep your preserved skull. They may keep it on display (therefore attracting interest and potentially fame to the school) but that always raises the risk of students of the other school stealing it. The students and staff of the other school have not only the right, but the duty to do so at any opportunity. Nobody can be arrested for this unless they're caught breaking some other law.

Ideally, the students of the two schools keep stealing your skull, back and forth, forever. The culture of both of the schools is enriched by this activity, the students are too busy engaged in these harmless shenanigans to drift into worse habits and behaviours, and you get to be included in countless nonsensically frivolous heist operations whose sole purpose is to bring more fun into the world.

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taking off a mask to reveal what lies beneath as a romantic gesture is overdone, and besides i want to see the romantic or even platonic potential of protecting someone's identity beneath the mask, without any expectation of ever being allowed to see what's under it. picking it up and holding it gently to their face when it's knocked off and they're in danger of being exposed, without trying to catch a glimpse of what they "really" look like under there. throwing yourself in front of them to hide them from view while they put themselves back together without taking advantage or looking back to see what you're protecting. learning to read them by body language, tone of voice, and behaviour so well that you never need to see their face to feel like you know and understand them.

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when i was younger i used to think the choice of a trumpet as the instrument to herald the apocalypse was bizarre. like really? the tumpet? bwaaa? but then i heard a hunting horn while out on a walk and understood just how hair-raisingly eerie a lone trumpet could sound carried on the wind.