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You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:

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my wife (ao3) has left me alone (is down right now) and i can do nothing but despair (frantically reload my tab) until she returns

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it’s like christmas morning

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Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

I know I’m never on here anymore and that means I don’t have many loyal followers, but I need to make it known that I support the Palestinian people with my whole being and have been doing everything I can to help. If you don’t feel the same, leave right now.

If you can, please donate or share ❤️

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I think we owe an apology to the Americans, looks like at least some of the issues with their healthcare system can be addressed with guns

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Think all the health insurance CEOs should be sent somewhere to hide until the world calms down a bit. We can’t have them fearing for their lives if they come across any ordinary member of the public.

So after much thought, I think the only way to keep them all completely safe is if we put them out of harms way in a submarine.

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via jamiepricephoto

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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