#and if nothing's wrong with me why the hell am i like this?

[hypnoneghoul]

Sundown: Chapter 7

WC: 3,1K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain,Transfeminine Mountain, Angst, Crying, Alcohol, Makeup, Backstory, Grief

He can blame his father for that, but not for his choices later on. That’s all on him, hurting Mounty is all on him.

Notes: I’m not very happy with how this chapter turned out, but the idea was good lmao hope you enjoy :3 Divider by the lovely @ghuleh-recs <3 Also happy Pride Month everyone!!!

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 7 under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss slept in the stables with Monty. Curled up and shaking through the cold night on a falling-apart cube of hay.

As fragile as he is, if not less.

He thinks about the irony, looks back at his life and wonders where the fuck he went wrong. He’s well aware, of course, but when he looks far back, ultimately he didn’t put himself on that road on his own. Albeit, he can blame his father for that, but not for his choices later on.

That’s all on him, hurting Mounty is all on him.

It doesn’t matter now, anyway, he already fucked up the best thing that has ever happened to him.

The man gets up, only imagining how pitifully he looks—though there’s no pity he deserves—and turns for Monty’s tack. He’s getting the hell out of there as soon as his chick is ready. Mere minutes later she is and Swiss walks her out of the stable.

“Once again it’s gonna be just the two of us, girlie,” he sighs, rubbing Monty’s nose as she nudges it into his chest. She understands.

Swiss’ jaw is clenched tight and his eyes still sting and he’s about to hop on and walk away from the best few months of his life like it was nothing when he hears footsteps on the soft ground behind him, followed by a familiar voice.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Swiss flinches, not turning to the other.

“Dew, you don’t unders–”

“I do,” Dewdrop interrupts him. “I know everything, Mounty spent the night at our place.”

Swiss looks over his shoulder despite his voice wavering and hot tears threatening to fall already. “You should be chasing me out of here with a pitchfork,” he jokes, but there’s no real humor in it.

“And yet I asked what the fuck do you think you’re doing,” the other man repeats, coming closer. He puts a hand on Monty’s neck to pet her; she leans into it and it’s as if both Dewdrop and the mare want to show the cowboy he should stay.

“What else can I do?” He shrugs, still not looking Dewdrop in the eye. “I messed up.”

“Yeah, you did. Big time,” he points out, “but the Shadow never sounded like a coward.”

Silence falls for a moment. Swiss takes a shaky breath and when he speaks again it’s barely audible, “I ain’t him, Dew. A coward is all I am.”

The other shakes his head. “You can’t leave her. She loves you.”

“And I love her, more than life itself,” Swiss claims and both of them know he’s not exaggerating. He’s never loved anything or anyone as much as he loves Mounty. She’s everything he’s not, she’s the best thing that ever happened to humanity, she erases all of it’s faults. She’s perfect and he’s…far from that. “I’m doing all of you a favor, I can’t–I don’t deserve her.”

“It’s not your decision.” Dewdrop argues. Swiss is surprised by his persistence, even though he knows the man is stubborn and more sharp-witted and wiser than he lets on. “She’ll forgive you, it’s how she is, you just have to be patient. Don’t run away, it’ll hurt her even more.”

“She’s scared of me.”

“Yeah, because you murdered more people than this town even has!” he bites back, nearly laughing, and Swiss hurts. Although he deserves it, he supposes. “I’m scared of you, too.”

Swiss’ breath hitches and he lets it back out with a dry sob, “Then why the hell are you trying to stop me?”

Dewdrop throws his arms up, nearly spooking Monty. “Because none of that matters! You said that the Shadow is not the true you and you’ve been here for long enough for me to believe that. Get rid of him once and for all and everything will be alright. Mounty will forgive you and forget about the fear.”

There’s nothing else Swiss can say. He wants to believe Dewdrop’s right, he needs him to be right if he is to stay, but he knows he’ll fuck it up all over again if he does. That’s just what he does.

Heartbreak and grief follow him wherever he goes, why would Sundown be any different?

“Come on, let’s get you a drink,” Dewdrop sighs, taking Swiss’ arm. His eyes widen, he’s not ready to see Mounty just yet, it’s too– “Relax, she ain't there now.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he lets the other walk him to the saloon, leaving tacked-up Monty behind. She looks rather pleased with the outcome, going back to her hay right away.

Dewdrop lets Swiss and himself in from the back and goes to make him a drink, leaving the cowboy in the storage. His head is throbbing and he really does need a drink, but he doubts whatever Dewdrop is pouring is going to be enough.

Before he realizes what he's doing he grabs an unopened bottle of whiskey off a shelf and shoves it under his shirt.

Just then Dewdrop comes back and hands him a glass that Swiss downs in two gulps. It burns his throat and belly but it's not enough.

Still, he thanks the other, “I'm gonna go now, I'll…I'll try to bring myself to talk to Mounty tomorrow.”

“You better.” With that Dewdrop leaves and Swiss heads back to the stable. Maybe he'll be warmer later, when the night comes, thanks to the alcohol. He takes the tack off Monty and settles himself on that same cube of hay that he slept on.

He sighs at how pathetic he is as he opens the bottle and glues his lips to it, reveling in the bitter taste and the acidic burn going down his throat.

A few hours later he notices he's moved. Or was moved.

Where? He doesn't really know but it's harder under his ass than the hay. He hums an off-key tune under his breath, rolling his head from one side to the other against a piece of wood. Is it a wall?

He zones out with an empty mind and he giggles at the foggy void taking over his brain. He has no idea how long he's been there and even where he is or what he's doing. It's dark but it might just be that his eyes are closed.

“Swiss? What the hell are you doing?” someone asks. The man tries to blink but his eyes are closed so he just squeezes them tighter for a moment before he manages to actually open them. His face feels numb as he tries to smile.

Swiss wonders how that beautiful girl knows his name.

“I’m–nevermind, but I do know your name.” Did he say that out loud? “Do you know my name?”

“Hmpf…” he huffs, trying to open his mouth and actually say what he wants to, ”you're ver’pretty bu–but I can't.”

“Can't what?” the girl asks, standing over him with her hands on her hips.

Mounty doubts Swiss can register the emotions on her face if he can't even recognize her, but she tries to mask them anyway. She's worried, she didn't expect to see Swiss tonight, much less in such a state. She hasn't made peace with all of what happened yet, but she still loves him and cares about him.

“There’s a girl, I–” Swiss hiccups, “I don't think she likes me anymore but–but I'm in love with her, y’know? So I…I can't do anything w’you.”

“That's fine.” Mounty crouches down, smiling, despite everything, at Swiss' ramble. He's drunk out of his mind and doesn’t realize it's her before him, but he is still loyal. “I just wanted to make sure you're okay over here, kind sir.”

“I ain’t a sir,” he giggles. “‘m a mess.”

“Respectfully, you have a point,” the barmaid agrees. She comes closer and reaches out to grab Swiss’ hand, trying to not shudder at the feeling of his skin on hers again, even though it's been barely twenty four hours since everything went down. “Which is why you can't stay here, come on, let's get you up.”

“No, I can't go w’you, my–my girl’s gonna be angry,” Swiss slurs in protest, shaking his head clumsily.

“Yeah?” Mounty can't help but giggle now, too. “I think your girl is gonna be more angry if you freeze to death out here.”

“Hmmm…but–but you can't touch me, ‘cause ‘m hers, o–okay?”

“Okay, I promise to not touch you anywhere weird,” Mounty grabs his other hand and tries to haul him up. It works as well as it can with Swiss in such a state, with him stumbling into her arms once he's up, “but I think I have to help you walk up the stairs, don't I?”

“Uh…p–pos–billy,” he hiccups again, but nods, grinning up at the girl. His breath stinks, but Mounty doesn't really mind. She is a barmaid after all, it's not the first drunk man she's dealing with. It is her man, though, this time.

She all but hangs him over her shoulder and walks into the saloon. The stairs are a challenge, but neither of them falls down, so Mounty considers it a success when she drops Swiss onto a bed in one of the guest rooms. She’s not ready to put him back in hers, not before they have a proper talk about everything. She knows she is going to forgive him, especially after what Dewdrop told her earlier, but they have to talk first.

Still, there’s a little voice in the back of Mounty’s head telling her to milk more out of Swiss. “Tell me about your girl, won't ya?”

“Oh, oh, she's…she's s’pretty, y’know? No offense t’you, but she’s the prettiest girl ever,” the man rambles, gesturing wildly. His eyes are wide and glassy—not only because of alcohol—and his grin is as wide and bright as ever. “She's an angel! She’s kind and–and lovely…and a–also she has nice…very nice boobies.”

“Huh.” Mounty puts a hand over her mouth so as not to snort. Of course he had to mention her tits. “She sounds amazing.”

“She is…” Swiss sighs dreamily, freezing with a goofy smile as he—most likely—gets lost in memories from not so long ago.

“Anyway, it’s way past bedtime for you, kind sir,” she snaps him out of it when she notices his eyes start to close on their own. “I think your girl would agree.”

“Mhmmm,” he hums in acknowledgement. “She’s always tellin’ me to go to bed when I don't wanna.”

“Sounds like she’s smart, too.” Mounty pushes him on the shoulder and he falls back like a ragdoll, flat on the bed.

“Mmm, the smartest,” Swiss mumbles, wiggling on the bed in something that looks like a rather poor attempt at getting comfortable. The barmaid shakes her head and throws a blanket over him.

And resists the urge to bend down and kiss him.

Swiss blinks and suddenly it’s morning.

His head is pounding and someone knocks on the door again and it doesn’t help it—even though it’s rather quiet. He realizes that the knocking is what woke him up. He tries to roll over and maybe get up to get the door but a wave of dizziness washes over him so he resolves to calling out, “Come in.”

His heart skips a beat when he sees Mounty in the door. Only now he realizes that he’s in one of the saloon rooms, but how he ended up there is a mystery. Though he supposes it might have something to with that bottle of whiskey he snatched yesterday.

Fuck.

“Good morning,” Mounty says, leaning against the doorframe. Swiss’ stomach turns and it’s not his hangover’ fault. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had way too much,” he mumbles. “Who brought me in here?”

“I did.” The barmaid shrugs and the corner of her mouth twitches upwards at Swiss’ grimace. “Found you half-conscious on my doorstep last night. Don’t remember much, do you?”

“Not really,” the cowboy admits. He sits up to lean against the wall and watches as Mounty walks inside and shuts the door behind her. She has a little basket hanging off of her arm and Swiss notices there’s faint steam coming from it.

“I can imagine. Here,” she hands him the basket, “from Rain.”

The man groans as the smell finally reaches him; freshly fried sausage with a slice of buttered bread and a glass of water.

“Thank you. Not only for this, for…everything.” Swiss takes a sip of water first, and even though he is not a fan of such a simple drink, his dehydration makes it taste heavenly. “Can we talk?”

Mounty doesn’t reply, but she nods before sitting on the edge of an empty bed across the bed. The man takes a bite out of his breakfast and it is delicious—as anything made by Rain—but there’s a certain bitterness to it at the distance that the other has put between them. He couldn’t expect anything less, but it aches nonetheless.

“Let’s start with apologies. I shouldn’t have hid who I was. We wouldn’t have gotten where we did if I had been honest, but I should’ve been, you didn’t deserve getting lied to. All I wanted was to get out of that life once and for all. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I regret everything.”

Mounty remains silent, but her eyes are on Swiss. Her presence alone is more than he could’ve wished for after everything. He swallows a few more bites of the food she brought and washes it down with more water before he dares to continue.

“Can I…will you let me explain everything?” he asks once the breakfast is gone. Swiss pulls his knees up and curls up as much as he can under a scratchy blanket; he tries not to think about how Mounty must’ve pulled it over him yesterday. “Can I tell you my story? I don’t want it to be an excuse, nothing can excuse what I did, but I just…I need you to know. Will you let me tell you?”

The barmaid still doesn’t speak, but her gaze is soft and somewhat curious, as if she’s trying to be angry with him—mad, even—but can’t bring herself to hate him and is looking for a reason to forgive him, whether it’s there or not.

Swiss doesn’t deserve her in the slightest.

The problem, though, is that his lie—or rather avoiding the truth—is, after all, the least serious of his crimes. He's a murderer and even if Mounty can forgive his dishonesty, he can't imagine she'd be willing to look past all of his sins.

“I have…had a sister. Our dad was famous for getting into all kinds of trouble and one day he got himself killed and my sister—Sunny—kidnapped,” he pauses to take a deep, shuddering breath. He hasn’t uttered her name since the day he buried her. He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, threatening to fall, before he continues. “I had nothing, there was nothing I could’ve done to get her back, but I went there and begged, offered my life in exchange for hers. They…those men decided that they’ll let her go when I pay off our father’s debt by doing all their dirty work for a while. That’s how the Shadow came to be.”

“How did…what happened to her?” Swiss flinches at Mounty’s voice. She sounds like Sunshine did, a bit; something he has noticed that first night down by the bar and tried so hard to ignore all these months.

“I did all they wanted, all their bidding, everything. I became a monster, a soulless–” he says, barely above a whisper. “I should’ve known it seemed too easy, that they weren’t men of their word.” 

He drops his head against his knees, still not fully able to say…it out loud. Saying something, letting it sound, makes things real and Swiss is far away from accepting the reality in which she’s not with him.

It’s barely audible when he does say it, “They killed her the moment they didn’t need me anymore.”

“Swiss, baby, I’m–” Mounty gasps. “I’m so, so sorry. Nobody should have to go through anything like that.”

“I killed all of them that night,” the man chuckles pitifully, sniffling wetly as he rubs his eyes against the blanket. “That’s why nobody heard of me after that, because there was no Shadow anymore, he died with his masters. I should’ve done that earlier, I should’ve fought and saved her, I–I failed her, Momo.”

The barmaid is speechless. She…Swiss shouldn’t have lied to her, but she understands—though not really, she’s never gone through something as awful as the man before her, but she can understand how all he wanted was…out. 

“I don’t–I don’t want you to forgive me and take me back with open arms,” the cowboy cries quietly, “it's just that…what I need is for you to–to understand. Please, sweetheart, just tell me you understand why I did what I did.”

“I do, darling,” Mounty states, loud and clear, and Swiss sobs with relief, choking on air. “But I will–I am taking you back with open arms. You're mine and I'm yours, Swiss.”

She gets up and walks over to the other bed—with her arms open, indeed. She’s not much bigger than the cowboy, but in that moment he’s tiny, as fragile as a man can be. Mounty wraps her arms around him and pulls him close, lets him sob into her chest.

“Seeing her body…seeing her, my baby sister, and having to bury her, I–I don’t… Believe me, sweetheart, I have paid for all I’ve done t–tenfold.”

“C’mere, lay down,” Mounty whispers as she strokes Swiss’ arm with all the gentleness in the world, not knowing any words that could fill the gaping hole in his heart. He keeps quiet, but obeys, resting his head on the barmaid’s shoulder. She brings them both down and tightens her arms around him, trying to comfort that broken, broken man as much as she can. She doesn’t feel like it’s enough and Swiss doesn’t have words to tell her that it’s more than enough and way more than he deserves.

What he can tell her, though, is words that he’s never going to be too overwhelmed, exhausted or hungover to say.

“I love you, girl.”

Swiss is afraid that he’s not going to hear it back ever again, but Mounty smiles and mutters, “I love you, too, cowboy.”

Somehow, hope fills him. Hope that they’re going to be okay.

He’s surprised to find himself believing it.

[lavouredior]

Ok so I have had this head canon for a while that the vees have movie nights together, and I’m just wondering if you could write abt them having a movie night and it’s late but the movie isn’t over and bunny is getting really irritated bc she is tired.

But yeah this is just a suggestion.

I hope you doing good and not over working yourself.

OH MY GOD !!!! they so do !!!!

warnings: angry bunny, ari doesn’t know how movies in hell work so she just rolls with it, ari also disses oppenheimer even tho she’s seen it 12 times, this is pretty short ngl, IT IS 12:58 AM WHY AM I WRITING FANFICS RN : YALL BETTER LOVE ME

Thump Goes The Bunny

you loved movie nights, especially when the vees allowed you to choose the movie although usually regretting it after you made them watch some kid movie. ( valentino cries over half of them )

you and vox had a set bed time for you, mostly vox’s idea after he noticed how grumpy you would be when you stayed up too late and you agreed to it

so you had no fucking idea why he was having you stay up watching oppenheimer, which you were practically bored of watching five minutes into it and did not feel like staying up for this movie of all things.

you tried to fall asleep a couple of times but then one of the vees would have a reaction to the movie and it would ruin your chances of sleeping

that’s why you were currently sitting on vox’s lap, faced away from the movie. you let out a frustrated groan which just ended up with vox kissing you on the cheek, which did nothing but frustrate you more.

“wanna sleep!!!!” you practically yelled but it just ended up in the velvette and valentino shushing you not even paying attention to what you said and only to the fact a loud noise came out of you.

that’s when you decided to stand up, causing all three of the vees to immediately pull their attention from the movie screen and to you.

“conejita, you want me to move so you can sit on the couch?” valentino asked, thinking you were gonna complain about how your legs fall asleep from being in the same position for too long.

what they weren’t suspecting was for you to thump three times in response, vox’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up and picked you up. “what the fuck, princess?”

he started walking to the kitchen, trying to let valentino and velvette be able to watch the movie without your current tantrum but by the time he got to the kitchen you had managed to get out of his arms and thump again

he sighed before kneeling down to your height. “what have we talked about?” but you just shook your head, pretty much done with all three of them at this point.

“i did say what’s wrong before thumping! none of you listened tho! vally and vel just shushed me!” your voice came out whinier than you wanted, not trying to sound like a little kid complaining

he sighed again. “what’s wrong, princess?” he opened up his arms which you immediately walked into, him immediately hugging you as your eyes starting to well up a little bit. “i just wanna go sleep.”

he nodded before picking you up again. “it’s only...” he looked at the time before mentally hitting himself. “i’m sorry princess i thought it was earlier, it’s almost 1 AM no wonder you’re in a bad mood right now.”

“just wanna sleep.” vox had gotten the hint that the most important thing right now was getting you to sleep, which is why he immediately went to your guys’ room, planning on texting velvette and valentino about your sleep schedule being messed up once he had gotten you to sleep.

[painsandconfusion]

Yours to Lose

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Forty

(tw: death mention, attempted murder, plotting murder, manhandling, victim blaming) [Previous | Masterpost | Next]

Ethan stumbled backward slightly at the force of Nate’s shove. The lingering bruise ached against his ribs, but did nothing in comparison to the ringing in his head. 

He immediately batted Nate’s hands away. “Get off of me!”

“What the FUCK were you thinking!?” Nate’s teeth were clenched as he stepped forward to push Ethan again - forcing him back into the wall this time. “Going down there alone in the middle of the fucking night- You could be dead if I weren’t awake! If I hadn’t happened to be there! If I wasn’t paying attention!”

Ethan’s chest clenched up, burning and twisting.

Stuck.

He felt stuck.

The pain that wrapped around him was colder than most cuffs he’d been in, and the little man in front of him seemed so much larger when his back was bruising against the drywall.

Ethan scoffed, shoving forward and knocking Nate out of the way. “I’d have figured it out. I always do.”

“No, you don’t- You get caught and fucked up again and again and again. He would have killed you - what part of that isn’t sticking?? Or is it just the concussion making you stupid?”

Ethan’s jaw set, eyes dead ahead as he strode toward the kitchen to wash the blood off of his neck. “Why do you even care?” 

He hoped Nate wouldn’t follow him. Of course, he did anyway.

“Why do I care!? Because you’re mine, that’s why!”

Ethan rounded on him, glaring enough it flared the throbbing in his skull. “You do not own me.” Each word precise. Spat over Nate in the dark kitchen.

Nate’s mouth immediately snapped open to retort, but he must have thought better of it. It closed again. He simply glared back for a long moment before trying again. “I don’t want you dead. I definitely don’t want him to kill you.”

Ethan raised a brow. “You want to be the one to do it, huh?”

Nate’s mouth pressed into a line. “..yes. I do.”

Ethan stepped closer, index finger pressed against Nate’s sternum. “And what if you’re not alive long enough to pull that off?”

Nate snorted - almost in amusement, but still too irritated to harbor his trademark smile. He batted Ethan’s hand away. “I know your angle. You know mine. If you had a problem with how I’m doing this, you’d have left.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I do have a problem with it, and I still won’t.”

Nate’s glare lasted almost long enough for the familiar fear to twist back through him. Luckily, anger kept it at bay long enough. “How many are left.”

“Some.”

Nate reached forward, shoving at Ethan’s chest again. “How many??” A harsh, whisper-shout that died on the wallpaper.

Ethan didn’t budge. Not that time. Nate could fall backwards if he wanted to push Ethan so damn bad. “I’m not telling you.”

“You don’t get to kill me the fucking second that I deliver the last person to you on a silver platter, you bastard-”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do, actually. Because you’re not gonna stop. You want them dead as much as I do.” Ethan found his hand drifting out, flicking a fallen lock of bang away from Nate’s brow.

Nate flinched.

He actually flinched.

A hand snapped Ethan’s away again.

“You don’t know what I want.”

“You want them to suffer.”

“Of course I w-” Nate’s teeth ground, eyes clicking to the side to think. “..do you like this?”

Ethan’s head turned slightly, eyeing Nate. “Like what?”

“Do you like getting fucked up?”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to shove Nate - hard enough the man stumbled backwards into the foyer again. “The fuck is wrong with you-??”

Nate sputtered a scoff, straightening his shirt again. “What the hell am I supposed to think, E?? You find who knows how many fuckers out there to mess you up, and even when you’re safe from two goddamn seconds, you go running off to the basement alone in the middle of the night and almost die.”

“I’m fine-!”

“YOU’RE NOT FINE.”

Air warbled and shifted, holding the words between them in silence for several echoing clicks of the farmhouse clock on the wall. 

“I just..” Nate rubbed at his eye, anger melting into frustration. “I didn’t know you were-... I thought you were dead. When I came in the workshop, you were bleeding and still and-...and I thought you ..I thought you were dead, E. I thought I’d lost you.”

Ethan’s ears were ringing, a hissing, electronic sting filling the muffled silence that settled in the wake of the words. 

Ethan stepped to the side, moving around Nate and toward the stairs. “I’m not yours to lose,” he muttered, founding the banister. He needed a shower anyway.

He thought Nate might respond. Fight back or pull him down again.

Nothing happened. No words returned or refuted. Ethan just heard the front door open and close behind him as he moved up into the darkness with burning eyes and a throbbing skull.

[Previous | Masterpost | Next]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @pickywhumpreader @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @nailevislev @throwawaywhumper @the-mourning-star @d-cs @pigeonwhumps @suspicious-whumping-egg @snakebites-and-ink @whumpedydump @orphans-parent @whumplr-reader @rainbowsandwhumperflies @starfields08000 @sunnyesunny @crystallizedme @lumpofsand @taterswhump)

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

[elytrafemme]

long theoretical post about my friend hugging me

like. to dissect a matter that none of you are involved in and then i'll delete in the morning: my friend in college hugged me about ten minutes ago and i don't understand why. he's a physically affectionate person so we knew it was bound to happen, it was a running joke between us that we'd like schedule our hug to happen. nothing extraordinary happened tonight. in the second half -- which is when i spent the most time with him -- i was so fucked up that i barely processed what was going on? i was listening to what he was telling me, he just rambled about stuff, and it's interesting and i could recite all of it if asked and the expression he made at each part, but there was absolutely nothing in my head. and he never asked if i was okay which i think he would have if he thought something was wrong, because he's done that before. and we were alone so he could have and there would have been zero consequences. but he didn't ask me what was wrong, so it's hard to assume that the hug was for emotional consolation reasons. he wouldn't have noticed me on the brink of tears, either, he's not that observant. i would have known if he had. and i didn't do anything truly kind to him today, i listened to him talk about his interests and we hung out for a while, but that's what we do all the time. nothing happened. there was the chair thing but i thought i played that off well, i tried to have a coherent narrative about it an hour later too so he would guess what i had hoped, and i think i was successful. he wasn't distressed, i would have known. and he was tired but he's been tired a lot before and he's never acted like this. so he had zero reason to hug me unless he maybe sensed that this entire time i just really fucking wanted him to hug me, but he wouldn't have, and i would never have voiced that, because i don't want him to see me at that level. but i needed that hug badly. and i don't understand why i received it.

[redribbonsandblood]

i feel like fucking shit

[vaugarde]

i feel like there's definitely this pressure online to be obsessed with tumblr or twitters favorite show of the week no matter what and i think as someone who doesnt really engage with a lot of things as theyre coming out, it's a bit easier to see that, and i think it's good to kinda go "am i watching this bc im actually interested in the premise or just bc its the darling show of the month"? and its not a bad thing if it doesnt vibe with you.

i say this as sort of a long winded way of saying that despite the premise feeling like it was tailor made for me in every way that i did not latch on to mp100 the way everyone else in my circle seemed to LOL

[faultsofyouth]

Literally I feel exactly the same way now as I did when I was 13 except that now i have too much to live for to go around trying to kill myself all the time

[navree]

once again on my frankenstein bullshit because i’m sure it’s a very nice bookend but it is baffling that so many fix it attempts for this story are built on frankenstein asking the creature’s forgiveness in the arctic because like??? no??? the only time victor was ever in the position of “hey you should really say sorry to this guy” is after he first ran away. everything else after that should be the creature fucking groveling and saying “hey sorry i murdered your brother and then framed your friend so she’d be executed and then murdered your boyfriend and the murdered your wife which made your dad weaken and die”  because in the scales of who’s been wronged more, guy whose father was mean to him is very much trumped by guy who had everyone he loves wiped the fuck out because his son threw a temper tantrum. 

sorry.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

🥀

[fingertipsmp3]

Guess who fucked up her knee again??? And AT WORK no less

[timeisacephalopod]

I love my mom but sometimes, for lack of a better way to put it, she acts like an entitled boomer. It's already a peeve of mine when people bitch about kids and what they're bitching about is kids doing completely normal, expected shit for kids to do but my mom takes it a step further and implies my nieces doing normal kid idiocy is like a personal failing and ok. Look, my youngest niece is rammy as hell this kid is a bowling ball and she's here to win, but she's seven. I expect seven year olds to be Like That and be empty head no thoughts until they break something, that's normal. No sense in getting pissed off at a seven year old for acting exactly the way you'd expect them to, but the thing that extra pisses me off is that instead of just making peace with this and teaching any of my nieces where they went wrong and how to fix it my mom just kind of expects literal children to be able to just get some verbal feedback and figure it out?? Like come on now, I have 2 siblings surely she should know zero kids are equipped to get not very useful feedback and figure out how to apply it to everything??

My oldest niece gets it the worst and every time my mom says shit about personal responsibility I want to roll my eyes so hard they pack their bags and go on a vacation to Hawaii because my niece is 12 (almost 13)- if she's not taking 'personal responsibility' then someone didn't teach her how to or at least not in a way that stuck and worked for her. It's actually the adults personal responsibility to teach a child how to develop emotional maturity, not for a kid to be grated about all the damn time like any 12 year old is equiped to be The Most Emotionally Mature Ever. Problem being my mom is NOT good at taking feedback on parenting so if I say anything I gotta wrap it up nice and sweet and make sure it comes off almost more like offering advice rather than criticism, which irritates me because "if your so pissed off about this behavior why don't you do something about it and NO not the only thing you've been trying for years and complaining doesn't work because fucking obviously why do I have to explain this to someone who surely knows far more about parenting than I would" is a lot easier than my methods that aren't working any better than my mom's.

[chitcharlie]

My mind is in a very specific place lately but one thing I could say is that I genuinely don't want to die anymore

[hydrostorm]

i truly hate how ridiculous rsd makes you feel. like it gets you to believe the most convoluted things based solely on assumptions of the unknown, but theyre assumptions that are also impossible to disprove

[orcelito]

The greatest tragedy is realizing that we probably can't hire dbz shirt guy unless someone else says no bc I have to judge by objective decision

BUT ALSO the lady I have to choose between is leaving in half a year and does have a job already soooo

[seilon]

just sent a hastily-made new resume to a hiring manager at a place i might get a summer job at and realized after sending it that it still has “MONTH 20XX – MONTH 20XX” written for one of my past jobs’ durations fucking shoot me

[48787]

So, as it turns out, my capacity for tyranny is actually fuckin huge and I'm really fucking good at it

I have so many more things to put in my book now

Peace Through Tyranny will be real circa 2048 and it'll still be sued by fucking Hasbro