#you don't deserve a life of shame and self-hatred

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Good morning.

Some scientists believe ADHD is caused by the brain processing dopamine inefficiently.

The brain requires chemical homeostasis and if you're processing less dopamine than you need, you are perpetually doing things to help stimulate dopamine production, whether that's impulsiveness, speaking out of turn, making jokes at inappropriate times, picking fights, fidgeting, zoning out, etc.

Worse, when you're asked to do something that's unpleasant and won't allow you to do something rewarding at the same time, like paying a bill or doing math homework, your brain riots because it NEEDS the dopamine and this is actively preventing you from getting what you need. Until you're down to the wire and adrenaline floods your brain, allowing you to Do The Thing on that momentum alone, you're stuck.

You don't get to choose to ignore your brain's need for chemical homeostasis; you have to treat it or work around it somehow.

Stimulant medications address the brain's immediate need for happy chemicals. This is why stimulants calm ADHD people down. Suddenly the brain is no longer screaming for dopamine, and you are actually enabled to do the things, including the boring or difficult things, that you've been wanting to do all along. This is also why caffeine puts a lot of ADHD people to sleep. The brain, finally having what it needs, is calm.

i get why people are scared of stimulant medications but like, when you have ADHD and you're properly dosed, it's not addictive. Because your brain chemistry is different. You're not getting a high, you're actually calming down, for once in your entire life.

It's not like ADHD meds don't come with side effects and downsides. If i could function without them, I'd prefer to, because the side effects are a bummer. I also don't like feeling like i rely on a crutch, especially when shortages, politics, misinformation and ableism make the future of access to them so uncertain; but i feel similarly about my glasses. Kinda wish i didn't need em. You know?

But even with all that said, meds have been a miracle for me. Over the last couple years, my self-confidence has grown. The feeling of fear and failure that's hung over me literally my entire life is lifting, because I'm finding i consistently have the capacity to meet people's expectations and do what's most important. I'm less anxious about unpleasant tasks, because i can be confident in my ability to do them before they pile up. I'm able to be present more often, at work and in the rest of my life. I can show up for my friends. I'm no longer constantly scared that others will Find Out that I'm Faking It, because yeah, I'm a hot mess, but i can get crap done when i need to now usually. I'm actually making significant progress towards goals I've had for years and never been able to start on. I'm discovering that with some strategy, i can have some consistent habits. I'm having more compassion with myself and cutting myself some slack when i do fall short.

Meds haven't fixed everything for me; progress has come slowly with a combination of meds, therapy, getting older, and settling down in life. And i still struggle a lot, with things like keeping my space clean and consistently doing tasks that i don't like or that cause me sensory issues etc. I still struggle with a LOT of shame around my ADHD, every day when i step over that pile of laundry or try to remember where i left my phone. But I'm not constantly scared I'm about to be fired anymore. I'm not ending the workday exhausted from anxiety and spinning my wheels after a long day of under-performing. I'm not so plagued by the feeling that I'm letting everyone down or that I'll never be able to achieve my goals. Compared to a few years ago, i am so happy, calm and confident--i wouldn't have recognized current me.

Meds are a miracle. Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[thelesbianpoirot]

The thing about BDSM/stripping/pornography/prostitution that I critique is not about what the sub/victim/penetrated wants. I don't care to shame the person with the abuse and rape fantasy. People from oppressed groups who hate themselves will seek out means of self destruction and humiliation. They are taught to. It is what society trained them to do. It is not surprising that many young women (and young gay men) run towards violent sex, plastic surgery, extreme piercing, extreme tattooing, prostitution and exploitation. What other group is taught to hate themselves more? What other group is more death seeking? I am not shocked the groups with the highest rates suicide attempts, eating disorder, lowest record self esteem, poor body image, mocked the most in media, have high murder and sexual assault rates hate themselves and seek lifestyles that reflect or perpetuate their own destruction. "Choke me daddy," the 14yr old writes on her social media page, and gets likes of people thinking she cool, hot and progressive. She knows there are people who want to do horrible things to her, and if she lets them, and "enjoys" it, that is the closest she will get to love, attention, and praise. She reads and masturbates to rape fantasies in fanfiction/dark romance books because she is aware of the place society wants her in and was a victim of their concerted efforts to normalize and even eroticize her submission and degradation. She is not a product of free choice and individualism. She is a good student of society's bigotry and hatred. Proof of free choice would be her having the highest standards, self preservation and dignity. That is what would make her stand out amongst her peers. That is what would buck tradition. I have grown up around poor black people my entirely life, and watched many people destroy their lives with drugs, gangs, getting pregnant by multiple men, and many other social ills. Many of these things were avoidable, I avoided them, a few of my friends did, I wondered why they hadn't. And it's after I grew up that I realize many of those people didn't think they were capable of doing anything else, or were deserving of any other kind of life. When the world hates you, makes a systematic effort to destroy you every day, you listen and begin destroying yourself too. In a way to pretend you have total control over your life at all times.

I will not argue with a sub/pornstar/stripper/prostitute that she should be ashamed of herself. She already is. She wouldn't be doing this if she were raised to care for and respect herself by a loving just society. I will argue that her abusive dom, the sex buyer, rapist, and director (person in power exploiting them) needs to be tried for crimes and put down like an animal.

[amourdivine]

𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ઉ   PICK A CARD

Hello lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful week! This is perhaps the first heavily shadow work focused PAC I bring to you. I'm quite nervous to post this, since I know delivering these messages can be difficult and I don't like taking a harsh, judgmental approach. I hope this reading resonates. As always, feedback is highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com! xo ♡

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

how to choose your pile.  take a few deep breaths for and look at each and of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is your shadow self? eight of swords • knight of cups • nine of wands • queen of wands

Your shadow self is the fearful side of you attached to anxiety. The side of you that does not believe you can save yourself from bad situations and feels endlessly hopeless, helpless and trapped. It causes a self-fulfilling prophecy, one where you think you'll inevitably fail, so you self-sabotage (either consciously or not) and end up "proving" yourself right.

However, as helpless as your shadow feels, it never asks for help. It's trapped in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, even self-hatred. All of this happens mentally for most of you, to the point where your body is neglected or stuck in flight / freeze mode. I feel stuck in the gutter, unable to move in the sticky mud. Despite your best efforts to succeed, you may suffer from impostor's syndrome as well, an inability to see your worth, your beauty and your own light. It's almost as if you're scared of your own power, pile one. Very painful, very self-inflicted and something which you may have learn from childhood, maybe you got bullied a lot or were heavily criticized by the people around you. If that happened, I'm so sorry pile one. You deserved so much better. You still do.

how can you work with your shadow self? nine of cups • the sun • queen of swords • queen of wands

You know, when I was entering college, I had a counselor whose words were life changing to me. One day, he picked up a cup full of coffee and asked me: how do you get rid of the coffee, without throwing it out entirely? And I was puzzled. It wasn't possible. Him, in his neverending patience, took me to the water station and started pouring water onto it, until the coffee was cleared away and all that remained was clean, crystal liquid.

Maybe the bad things that happened still haunt you, but they can be drawn out by the good ones. Seek for the light, pile one. Seek the nurturing experiences, the days when you allow yourself to just be, seek the help, the love and stay open to the love. Stay open to the idea that yes, you are worthy, even if you do not feel like it, even if so many people have made you feel otherwise.

These wounds may not fade entirely with time, but you are more than them, always. Always. I know it's never easy to challenge what we've been taught about ourselves, but in order to unlearn all of that, you will have to learn the new things, the true things about you. If they said you were lazy - was that really true? Or were you just tired? You're not "naive", you're pure. You're not "too sensitive", you're in tune with your emotions.

The stories we tell ourselves hold power. What stories are you telling about yourself? Maybe it's time to switch to a new point of view, one where you can rewrite yourself as the person you were never allowed to be.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is your shadow self? judgement • five of swords • ten of cups • king of wands

Your shadow self is the side of you that thrives in chaos - listen, that's not entirely a bad thing, after all, our shadow reflects something which we need to acknowledge, nurture and work with. However, when you perceive danger or feel threatened, you may turn to harsh words or hurtful actions to avenge yourself.

It can manifest in the form of extreme competitive behavior, the inability to rest, overworking, even maybe envy, jealousy and arrogance sometimes. Now, I'm not here to judge or shame you, you're safe here. I think you have and still feel the need to prove yourself to others, to prove them all wrong. Maybe other people told you that you couldn't do it - and you took it all personally, so personally that it crumbles your self-esteem when someone diminishes your efforts or accomplishments.

Your shadow side craves attention, praise and approval. You want to succeed, to be someone you're proud of, to just never feel insecure, diminished or ignored again. You can also turn possessive with loved ones, wondering if they really love you or if they are lying. There's a lot of skepticism here, too.

how can you work with your shadow self? judgement • ace of pentacles • three of pentacles • eight of swords

Acknowledge your feelings and these insecurities. "Fake it 'till you make it" doesn't always work. Being vulnerable is, ironically, also being strong. Understanding your limitations and allowing for other people to collaborate with you (and vice-versa) will take you even further in life.

Your sense of justice is commendable. Make sure you're using it for justice indeed, and not just vengeance. Your ambition can walk hand in hand with your desire to do good, to make space for everyone else to shine, to open up to others, let them see all of you. No one can love perfection - even if they could, what's there to love about something or someone so perfect that they barely feel human?

It's okay to be scared, to feel insecure, to not shove difficult emotions under the rug. We cannot be at our 100% all the time. And we cannot please everyone, all the time. What you can do is praise yourself, let others praise you when they do and accept it gracefully, making sure you're spreading your warmth and wisdom to others as well. See, I think you have overcome a lot and a lot of people could use your help, either in the form of advice, resources or a shoulder to lean on.

You have leadership potential, pile two. Don't limit yourself by being alone. We were never meant to make it on our own.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is your shadow self? ace of wands • page of swords • three of cups • king of pentacles

Your shadow self is someone who may indulge in harmful habits out of a need for instant gratification, maybe reckless spending, speed driving, partying everyday or simply not saving up resources and caring about the future. Your shadow self is someone who hates boredom, who craves excitement and cannot fully deal with long-term commitment in its many forms. It wants novelty, adventure and it comes at the cost of your responsibilities, your routine and your friendships even.

This shadow self hates suffering (fair enough, who doesn't?!) and will to go great lengths to avoid it... but ironically, it causes you more pain in the long run by avoiding the unavoidable. By never crying, never addressing your issues or your difficult moments, you end up running right back into yourself and these same issues return.

This side of you doesn't want to grow up - you don't want to fall into the trap of routine and a boring, 9-5 job. But excessive habits are difficult to maintain, no matter how good it feels in the short term. There's a difficult, troubled perception of adulthood and life itself. A need for constant adventure and chaos, a feeling of entrapment whenever you are with anyone who loves you, because you fear being controlled, tamed and used.

how can you work with your shadow self? the tower • nine of wands • nine of cups • three of pentacles

To put it simply, let yourself hurt. Let the foundations of your heart crumble, stop to feel just for a second. You don't have to be on the run all the time. What are you running from, pile three? Disaster, pain and hurt are often inevitable, but they do not have to be the be-all, end-all of our lives. The Tower is a reminder that all that crumbles was meant to crumble eventually, and there is beauty in letting things end naturally, allowing the flow of life to do its thing.

That means aging, growing, learning from the seasons. I think you have a very, very deep heart and mind you're scared to tap into. You're scared to be trapped in the endless hustle, to never feel alive or good once you "settle". But who says the big joys are the only ones that matter? As someone said once, big joys and small joys are often the same. Sometimes, waking up in itself can be an adventure. Don't overlook or underestimate the ways life tries to find you, to cling to you - remember to embark on the hard journeys, knowing you'll have gotten something valuable in the end.

You're brave and rebellious. You can be a catalyst for change in so many ways. Who said adulthood has to be boring? Who said you have to work a 9-5? Do you have to get married? Maybe being a stay-at-home parent isn't for you. That's okay.

Challenging the status quo may not be easy, but you have a natural inclination for it. Your shadow self can dive deeper. It's one of your greatest tools. Your need for joy and fun is not shameful - you can use it for healing, instead of self-destruction.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is your shadow self? judgment rx • justice • the high priestess rx • knight of swords

Your shadow self is the side of you that refuses to acknowledge your needs, your wants and desires. It makes you live inside of a bubble, scared of the truth, even if it will set you free. I had the hardest time shuffling for this pile, I kept trying and trying but nothing made sense. I think this is how your shadow side manifests as well, in the lack of clarity, the fogginess that permeates the choices you've regretted.

It's both reckless and frozen, completely lost in a maze, confused, looking for a path, for directions, for anything. It's almost as if you lost your compass, nothing eventually guides you and you remain looking for the directions only you have.

It's too scared to admit what it wants, who you are. Both out of fear of what other people will say, but also out of fear that it'll all go wrong. It's the side of you that remains disconnected from yourself, hidden because it keeps highlighting the aspects you keep trying to ignore, to not know. It can manifest in a lot of ways, either through people-pleasing or being completely reckless. Through lying, denial or even isolation from the world, from life itself.

Something funny is that a song by Bad Suns that just started playing really relates to this pile. "Cinderella slips into a dream like a curse / you could mistake it for heaven at first." This shadow self may live in projection, daydreaming or simply keep you out of touch with everything.

how can you work with your shadow self? six of pentacles • page of wands • two of wands • king of cups

Engagement and socializing are big ways you can work with your shadow self. Being actively curious about the world, about people. Approaching relationships, truths and life itself with genuine interest, no judgement or shaming thoughts involved.

Telling yourself you're an eternal student of this world, because we are and remembering you don't have to know everything. Start scared. Most things, you'll have to do it scared. Unprepared. In the thick of it all, you'll find the answers you need, but only if you are willing to dive deep for them. No taking shortcuts, making assumptions or allowing self-doubt to paralyze your living, because you need to witness life as it is.

Therapy is one big thing, music as well. Anything that connects you to your deepest self, relationships that genuinely make room for who you are, good friends that feel safe and non-judgemental. Your heart has been calling you for so long, pile four. It's about time you listen to it. It knows everything you need to know.

disclaimer. tarot not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[pathetichimbos]

How would tommy be like during sex? rough or soft mb in between?

I have many thoughts. So many. I don't really mention a gender but the pp goes into something. what you decide that is is between you and god

Well, to start it off, we all know Thomas is a big man. 6'5, wide set shoulders, big tummy and just all around a big stature.

He's naturally strong from growing up on a farm and working at the slaughterhouse, especially given that he walks back and forth a lot.

And he knows it.

This is something I could write a whole essay on, but I'll keep it short for the sake of this post and it's primary objective: A lot of people think Thomas is unaware. They think he doesn't understand basic things, like in The Beginning, after the slaughterhouse is shut down and Jess has to kick Thomas out, resorting to insulting him after Thomas won't leave, a lot of people assume it's because his mind can't grasp the fact that it's shut down, but it just isn't true. Thomas is very aware, and he's a very intelligent man. No, he may not be able to read all that well, and math confuses and frustrates him, but he's not an idiot.

All this to say that Thomas isn't this dumb jock that doesn't understand his own strength, he's very aware of how strong he is. He's spent his entire life on a farm, and if you've ever spent a lot of time around animals, you know that you have to know how to control yourself and your strength to protect the animals and yourself from getting hurt.

He's a gentle man, with a kind heart. And this carries over to sex, with several other factors as well.

See, the thing is, considering the time frame and everything, it's safe to assume Thomas never got the sex talk. He knows that sex happens between two people, he knows that babies come from sex, and he knows that it's sinful to have sex outside of marriage, but that's really it. He has no other frame of reference.

Considering this, and his own self repulsion due to his skin disease and seclusion from his peers, I honestly believe that Thomas is probably pseudo-asexual.

I say pseudo because I don't think Thomas is actually asexual. I think he has those urges and thoughts, but pushed them away in his own form of repulsion due to his self hatred and the shameful aspect his mother projected onto him.

It's very likely that Thomas does in fact have sexual feelings, and most of his "experience", if you could call it that, probably came from media. When someone of particular attractiveness came on the TV, like the local weather woman, or the sultry voice of the unseen radio man crackled through, it gave him an itch he couldn't scratch.

He would feel ashamed at these thoughts, because not only was the feeling such a sinful act in his mind, but he also believed he was too worthless to deserve anything like that. After all, those feelings are reserved for people who are married and love each other, and he doesn't believe he can ever be one of those people.

At some point or another it gets to be too much though, and he eventually caves and starts taking matters into his own hands, but the guilt and shame that comes afterwards makes it a very rare occasion.

So, given all this, we can finally move onto answer the original question of how Thomas is during sex.

Given that Thomas doesn't really know what sex is, he doesn't ever make any moves himself. He doesn't know how, all he knows is that sex is meant for marriage.

But as the two of you date and become closer, it gets harder and harder to avoid the topic. Sure, he's been attracted to the people on TV and in the magazines, but this is different. You're really real, and you're really here, and you really like him too. All of those shameful feelings he's spent his life trying to push away rush to the surface everytime you touch him in any intimate way.

But he won't change his mind on waiting until marriage, he has way too many pent up issues to get past that. The two of you fool around, sure, (which leads to you realizing just how little he really knows, and to talking him about it all), but that never really moves past desperate, through the clothes humping, and the occasion wandering hands when that just isn't enough.

When that time finally comes, though, he's riddled with anxiety.

It takes a lot of soft words and easing before it actually happens.

He stays still for a long time after he first bottoms out, and he's trying not to hold you too tightly. He's overwhelmed with the emotions running through him, and you can feel his tears from where his face is buried in your shoulder.

When he finally does move, it's awkward, and bumpy, and there's no real rhythm. He's just desperately moving, holding you tightly. He's very loud, moaning and whining against you. He finishes way too quickly to give you a chance, but he's got a lifetime to make up for, so it definitely doesn't end there.

Skipping ahead a bit, Thomas gets a lot more comfortable (and better) with sex. I think overall, he prefers the slow and lazy. He doesn't like to rush things, he prefers taking your time and enjoying it.

But, he's honestly pretty moldable. He forms into whatever you prefer, he just enjoys being with you more than anything. He'll be as rough or as soft as you'd like, you just have to direct him on what to do.

Anyways, now that we've taken six detours, it looks like we've finally reached our destination. I hope y'all enjoyed, and feel free to send in more asks like this.

Thank you <33

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 21

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 01/17

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

You stood on the sidewalk, your body frozen to the core even as the warm rays of sunshine beat down on you, watching as Eddie climbed into his van and drove off, leaving you there with Steve and Robin. No one spoke. The air hung thick around the three of you with the horrid thing you'd just witnessed, with the potential of what it could all mean. 

“Shit, I have to call this in,” muttered Steve. “Look, just…” He glanced down at Andy who lay still on the pavement, knocked out cold, but his chest rose and fell steadily. “At least he’s still alive. That’s something at least. Fuck! Just, you two stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t, I don’t know, choke on his own blood and die or something. That would make this all even more complicated. I’m gonna call into the station.”

His words flowed through your ears but your brain barely registered them as you continued to stare at the place where Eddie’s van had been just moments before. The look on his face, the self-hatred that was etched so deeply into every line. His eyes, the lack of hope, an emptiness within them that just couldn’t be filled. He’d looked exhausted, weary, his body broken down by a lifetime of sadness and pain. The sag of his shoulders, disappointment and fear that he was exactly the monster this whole town had painted him out to be.

“Hey!” yelled Steve, large hands wrapping around your shoulders, shaking you gently. “Hey! Are you hearing me?”

You nodded, blinking slowly, struggling to focus on his face. You couldn’t believe what you'd just witnessed. What had you witnessed? A man who’d been pushed to his breaking point. A man who had been tormented his entire life by a town that refused to allow him to be anything but the monster they’d decided he was. And Eddie had finally unleashed that very beast on the person who’d probably deserved it the most. Years of anger simmering inside of him until it had boiled over, a storm of havoc and chaos that was out of his control. Eddie had been a force of nature as he’d lashed out, a force that could neither be controlled or contained. 

“Hey, look, it’s okay,” soothed Steve, hands running up and down your arms, making you aware that you were shaking. “I know that was scary but I swear that’s not who Eddie is. Andy’s had this coming for a long time with the way he runs his mouth. If it wouldn’t have been Eddie, it would have been someone else eventually. Jesus Christ. This is…look, are you going to be okay? I need to call.”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m good,” you told him, nodding. 

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Steve walked back into Benny’s and you looked over to find Robin standing as still as a statue, staring down at Andy. Shaking yourself from your own shock, you made your way to your friend, grabbing onto her shoulders, turning her body around, away from Andy and toward you. Robin’s eyes were wide, tears hanging onto her lower lash line and you pulled her into a hug, crushing her against you, whether to comfort Robin or yourself you weren't even sure. 

“This is so bad. This is so bad,” groaned Robin, fingers digging into your shoulder blades. “Andy’s an asshole who had it coming but the town won’t see it that way. They’re going to come with their pitchforks and torches again. Hunt the freak. Eddie’s gonna go to jail for this. There’s no way Andy won’t press assault charges. Everyone’s just been waiting for this moment. They’ll say he’s finally getting what he deserves and after everything he’s been through…surviving the demobats and the Upside Down and fucking Henry slash Vecna slash One, all for it to end like this! It can’t end like this! He’s a good person! We’d all be dead if it weren’t for him and his guitar!”

Robin’s words whirled through your already muddled brain in a chaotic swirl. Demobats? Upside Down? Vecna? His guitar? You couldn’t string a coherent sentence together right now, let alone try to piece together the nonsense that Robin was rambling in her anxious agitation. The one thing that sliced through the muddy waters of your thoughts was Eddie going to jail.

“No. That’s not going to happen,” you assured, not certain who you were trying to convince more. “Steve is a cop. He’ll sort this all out and we all saw what happened. Andy started it. Eddie was just defending himself.”

“Eddie doesn’t look like that,” wailed Robin, pointing down to the unconscious man who was just beginning to stir, the one eyelid that wasn’t swelled shut fluttering. “Nobody’s gonna believe us. You don’t know what it’s like. This whole town thinks we all lied for him the first time around. Our word won’t mean shit.”

“We’ll make it mean something. I wasn’t here the first time around. I’m new to this town, remember? What reason would I have to lie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re fucking him!” shrieked Robin. “Don’t you think that’s the first thing Andy’s going to say? He accused you of defending Charlie because of it. He’ll say you’re lying to help out your boyfriend. Your word won’t mean anything more than ours.”

“Alright. I called Hopper and he’s on his way,” Steve said, sharing a knowing look with Robin. “You know he’s going to be the most fair to Eddie in this particular situation.”

“Hopper? He’s the one who disappeared after the mall fire, right? The one who proved Eddie was innocent of all those murders?” you asked, hope blooming in your chest because maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be as bad as it looked.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s had Eddie’s back for a long time. Used to give him shit when he was younger. Hop had picked up the elder Munson a few times but he’s always had a soft spot for Eddie. He knows just how good of a guy he is. He’ll do whatever he can.”

Robin nodded, teeth worrying at her lower lip until a small fleck of red appeared, the skin cracking under the force of her worry, “Hop will know what to do. He’ll fix this, right? Hop always knows how to fix everything.”

“I’m sure he’ll try,” Steve told her, arm coming around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. “If anyone can figure this shit out, it’s Hopper. After he comes and I talk to him, I can give you a ride home, Sam. I’m sure you’d like to get as far away from this as possible.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. Away from this? No, you didn’t want to be away from this. Eddie was in trouble. There was nowhere else you wanted to be but right in the middle of this, figuring out a way to help him. 

“No. I don’t want to go home. I want to help.”

Steve looked disbelieving as he said, “You do? You’re not…I mean, you’re not freaking out right now? Not rethinking dating Munson after what you just saw?”

“No,” you stated simply. And maybe you should be. You'd seen a man so full of rage that he had come completely undone. But you weren't scared of Eddie. You hadn’t been scared of him when he’d whacked you in the middle of a nightmare, you hadn’t been scared of him when he panicked during the storm, and you weren't scared of him now. Maybe he’d beaten a man in front of you but that man had beaten many others and Eddie’s rage came from a place of pain and he would never direct that pain at you. You didn’t know how you could be so certain of that but you were. “I…I care about him…a lot. I’m not going anywhere. What he did doesn’t scare me. What he might be doing now does. What might happen to him because of it does but I’m not scared of Eddie and I’m not getting chased away.”

Robin smiled, tilting her face up to Steve’s, “See? I told you. She’s tough, fits right into our group. She wouldn’t run away if she knew everything, Steve.”

“Robin, don’t start right now. This is not the time.”

“But I’m just saying, if she’s going to be with Eddie, dealing with all of this, doesn’t she have the right to know everything? Doesn’t she have the right to know why so she can understand?”

Steve rolled his eyes as you watched the two bicker over you. Hope bloomed in your chest as you realized that Robin had been arguing for you to be told the truth. There was a sliver of possibility that you might finally get to know what in the hell had happened here, what haunted Eddie night after night, what was destroying his soul one fragment at a time. Armed with that information, you might stand a chance at finding a way to help him put those demons to rest.

“You know what Nancy said,” he warned.

“And who decided Nancy is in charge?”

“You did!”

Robin paused, “I made that shit up. I just said that because she always takes the reins. Nancy is a badass. She’s the person you want in a crisis but she doesn’t get to make decisions for all of us. I thought we should have told her weeks ago and now, with this, she deserves to know why her boyfriend just beat some guy to a bloody pulp.”

“Robin, we don’t get to make that decision alone and Eddie…look, I don’t know what he wants her to know.”

“You know I’m standing right here,” you reminded them, annoyance flooding you at how they discussed whether to trust you or not as if you were just a painting on the wall. 

“I know. Look, I know…” Steve paused, his body sagging with relief as a Chevy Blazer came into view, followed by an ambulance, pulling into the lot of the restaurant. “Hopper’s here.”

A large man stepped out of the Blazer, broad shoulders and a strong build. As he strode across the lot, he adjusted his hat, coming to a stop right in front of the three of them as the paramedics made their way over to Andy, bags slung over their shoulders. There was an intensity about him, letting you know that this was not a man to mess with but also a softness around his eyes that instantly put you at ease. This was clearly a man that you wanted to call when shit hit the fan. 

“Alright, Harrington, what the hell happened here?” Hopper asked. 

“We were all just trying to enjoy our lunch when Andy showed up and started running his mouth. It was his usual shit, accusing Eddie of murder, being nasty as hell.”

“Okay and how did that become his face turned into ground beef?”

“He put his hands on Y/N,” Robin told him.

“And who’s Y/N?”

“Uh, that would be me,” you answered meekly, stepping forward and raising your hand. 

“Ahh, okay. You’re the new girl, right?” asked Hopper.

“Yeah. Fairly new, anyway.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry it had to be under these circumstances. So, did Mr. Johnson hurt you?”

“No. He, uh…he grabbed onto my shirt. He was making some lewd comments about…well, about how if I was willing to climb into the gutter for Eddie and give it up so easily then maybe he should…you know. Anyway, Eddie shoved him off of me. He just kept going, goading Eddie. He talked about his mom…”

“Son of a bitch,” hissed Hopper, fingers pressing between his eyes as if relieving a pain that had suddenly appeared there. “Alright, so who swung first?”

“Technically Eddie did, but Hop, you know Andy,” Steve argued. “He threatened her job. He implied sexual assault on her. And when he said she was a whore and that’s why Eddie liked her, because she was just like his mom, Eddie swung. It was a fight, Chief.”

“So, does Munson look like that?” Hopper gestured to where the paramedics were bandaging up Andy who was beginning to come around, slowly sitting up, eyes unfocused. 

“Not exactly but he got hurt too!” Robin shrieked. “Hop, you have to help him. Eddie can’t go to jail. You know what that will do to him. His whole life people have told him it was inevitable that he would wind up just like his dad. Don’t let that happen to him. He just…he just lost it and can you blame him after everything this town has done to him?”

“I’m not saying I blame him, Robin, but he attacked a man. I know Andy’s a grade A asshole better than just about anybody. The amount of time I’ve tried to convince his wife to press charges…” He sighed, those fingers now pressing into his forehead. “But it doesn’t matter what he said. Eddie swung first. Look, I’m going to have to pick him up and bring him in.” When all three of them started to protest, he held his hands up. “Listen! I don’t have a choice here. Harrington, you know that. Just until we can get to the bottom of this and I can figure out a way to get Munson out of another goddamn mess. Jesus Christ. I thought maybe, just maybe, we were finally able to have some peace. You kids are the reason I’m losing all my hair.”

“Come on, Hop. That hairline has been receding since before Will vanished and I don’t think thirty year olds count as kids,” Steve grumbled.

“It does when you idiots are always managing to find trouble. I swear to god. I thought we were done with all this shit.”

“We are!” Robin said. “We were. Andy was the one who decided to start stuff, not us. Eddie only went after him because of the way he was talking about Y/N.”

“You Munson’s girl or something?” asked Hopper. 

“Or something, I guess,” you shrugged. “I mean, we’re together, yeah. Chief, if you’re picking him up, is there any way I can be there with him?”

“Not while we’re questioning him, kiddo, but you’re welcome to come down to the station and wait for him.”

“That freak is going to prison for the rest of his life!” Andy yelled from behind them, all four heads spinning to find him, spit flying out of his mouth, swatting at the poor paramedic who was trying to clean his split lip. “I told you, Hopper, this whole damn town told you that he was a psycho who needed to be locked up but you didn’t listen! And now look! He attacked me for no goddamn reason!”

“Now, that’s a damn lie. I saw you grabbing that girl over there. Think you’re some invincible force because your wife takes it quietly,” Larry argued, the door of the diner opening with a jingle. “You’re lucky you can still talk because I would have broken your damn jaw if you’d touched my girl like that. Running off at the mouth gets you into trouble, boy, or didn’t your daddy ever teach you that?”

“Larry,” warned Hopper, “stay out of this.”

“Chief, I’m not gonna watch Munson get taken away in cuffs because he finally gave this asshole what’s been coming to him for years. Eddie just had the guts to do what no one else in this town has.”

“I’ll handle it, Larry. Just go flip some burgers, alright? Come by the station when you can and give your statement there.” Hopper leaned into one of the harassed looking paramedics. “So, what are the extent of the injuries?”

“Broken nose, bruised ribs but nothing seems broken, split lip, some bumps and bruises. I mean, his face ain’t pretty but he’ll live. I gotta say, Chief, I don’t blame the guy who did this. I kind of want to punch him myself. Guy’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he muttered. 

“I’m pressing charges! Munson won’t see the light of day again! And I will have that little bitch’s job!” Andy roared. “You just watch!”

“Oh shut it, already, Johnson,” snapped Hopper. “Are you forgetting you ain’t nothing special in this town? Nobody gives a shit about you. The only reason you were anything was because you buddied up with Carver. His family had the power in this town. So stop talking out your ass about what you’re gonna do.” He turned, pointing at Steve. “Harrington, take these girls home and meet me at the station. I’m gonna swing by and get Munson. No cuffs, just a friendly ride.”

Steve nodded, keys jingling as he pulled them from his pocket, “Come on. Why don’t I drop you both off?”

“You’re not dropping me anywhere. I’m coming to the station with you,” you told him, braced to fight him on it if you had to. There was no way you were sitting at home, waiting to hear something. “I have to be there for him, Steve. He has to see that it's okay. He has to see that I’m not scared of him.”

Eddie’s words rang back in your ears, telling you that dating him was a bad idea. That if you were smart you would run away. There was nowhere you were running unless it was straight to him. He had to know that you weren't scared, that you weren't going to bail like so many others had, that you had his back and you understood why he’d done what he’d done. 

“Listen, I don’t know if he’s going to want you…”

“I don’t care!” you shouted, tossing your hands up. “I don’t care, okay? He’s not shutting me out. He’s not chasing me away. I have to be there because it matters and because he’s everything to me and because I love him!”

Robin resembled an owl as her eyes widened, mouth dropping open for a second before curving into a smile, “Oh my god. You love him?”

“I…well…I…”

You loved Eddie? You loved Eddie. The words you'd just said crashed down over you, crushing you under the acknowledgement of them, the thing you'd been trying to ignore. The feelings you'd been keeping tucked down in a box, knowing it was insane, knowing it was too soon. You didn’t want to scare him away and what scared a guy faster than some girl rushing to say those three words? 

It was crazy, right? You couldn’t possibly love someone after only a few weeks. It was just the serotonin rushing to your brain, eliciting feelings of love, fooling you into thinking your attraction had turned to love. That’s what it had to be because falling for someone so quickly, that kind of shit only happened in the movies. 

But it wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t. Your intense desire to make everything better for him, the way you missed him when he wasn’t around, the pull of your heart every single time you saw his face or heard his voice. It wasn’t a trick. It wasn’t fake. It was real, probably the most real thing you'd ever had in your life. Maybe it had been fast but it was true, you were in love with Eddie. 

“I think I do,” you whispered, shocked at your own admission, staring at your open palms as if they held the answers. 

“Well shit,” Steve laughed. “Okay then. Come on. Let’s get down to the station and get Eddie out of trouble.”

____________________________________________________________

Your leg bounced up and down nervously as you sat in the small police station, waiting for Chief Hopper to arrive with Eddie. Steve had gotten you a coffee but it sat on the desk next to you, long forgotten, probably ice cold. Your stomach couldn’t handle much of anything right now, twisted into knots so tight that it physically ached. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Steve told both you and Robin. “I’m telling you, Hopper will figure it all out. I bet Eddie will be walking out of here tonight.”

You wished you could be as certain of that fact. What was taking so long? Had Eddie run? Was he hiding somewhere, terrified, flashing back to the last time he had to hide from the law? Had he put up a fight when Hopper showed up, refusing to be arrested? Oh god, you hoped not. You hoped he didn’t do anything to make this worse but you'd seen his face. It was not the face of a man capable of rational thought. Who knew what he’d be willing to do right now?

The door swung open, your head snapping up as Eddie walked in, closely followed by Hopper. His eyes met yours and quickly lowered to the ground, those tortured pools now hidden from you. You were relieved to see he wasn’t cuffed but in the quick flash you'd had of his face, he was hurt. His eye was turning purple, lip split wide open and crusted over with blood, a bruise blooming along his jaw. 

You leapt up from your seat and to him but just as your hand gently touched his face, he pulled his head from you. You took a step back, both confused and hurt by his dismissal. All you wanted to do was make this okay. You were desperate to fix this, to make it all disappear, to take him home with you and clean his wounds, apply ice to his bruises, to take care of him, play nurse like you'd promised to do the night they all went skating. 

“Eddie?” you asked hesitantly.

“What is she doing here?” he growled, eyes focused on Steve as if you weren't even standing in the room, wasn’t right in front of his face. “I told you to take her home.”

“I know, man, but she refused. She wanted to be here for you, Eddie. We all do.”

“Eddie, it’s going to be okay,” you tried, ignoring the flashing warning signs in your brain, signs that were telling you that this was not going to end well. “They just want to talk to you. We told them what happened. I’ll be waiting out here to take you home, okay? We’ll get you all fixed up and…”

“No. Just go home, Prom Queen,” he stated, his voice hollow, wrong, the voice of a man who’s been defeated. 

“No. I want to be here.”

“Well, I don’t want you here!” snapped Eddie, those eyes finally turning to you, burning with hatred, burning as bright as that fire the first night you met. 

“I don’t believe that,” you choked out, each word wavering as you fought back the tears. 

“Just don’t, okay?” he begged softly. “I told you I’m defective. I don’t want you to wait for me. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have been here for any of this. Just let Steve take you home.” With a roll of his eyes, followed by his head, he looked over at Hopper. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

“Alright, you know the drill.” Hopper gestured toward his office and Eddie stomped inside, not looking back once as Hopper followed him and shut the door behind them. 

You stood stationary, staring at the door, those warning bells finally quieting inside your head, nothing left to warn about because the danger had already happened. He was shutting you out, not only slamming the door in your face but locking it as well, just like you feared he would. He’d told you that you shouldn’t be with him, told you he was defective, and now he believed it. He believed that he was the monster the whole town said he was. 

“Damn it,” Steve huffed, thumb and finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I knew he was going to do this!”

“So did I,” you agreed, closing your eyes, tears that had been hanging onto your lash line for dear life slipping down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily with the back of your hand. “He told me. He told me we shouldn’t be together, that I should stay away from him, that he was broken and fucked up and he couldn’t be fixed.”

“But that’s not true!” Robin cried. “He’s not broken. He’s just bruised, maybe a little damaged, but he’s not beyond repair. Look, he’s just being a dingus right now, that’s all. He has to come around. He’d be an idiot to let you get away. I haven’t seen him this happy in so long. I mean, probably since he hotwired that motorhome.”

“He stole a motorhome?” you asked, the absurdity of that statement startling you from your self-pity party. 

“Yeah, but he kind of had to. There were extenuating circumstances,” explained Robin. She sighed, hand waving erratically through the air. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that he is happy for the first time in a decade. I mean, truly happy. I haven’t seen him smile like that for so long. I’ve never seen him light up for anyone the way he does for you. We all knew you were something special with the way he started acting. He was being a dick to you to try to push you away because you scared him. Now, he’s pushing you away because he’s scared he’s not good enough for you. Don’t let him do that. I…I think he needs you.”

“If you want me to take you home, I will,” Steve told you. “But I think he’s being an idiot right now. He’s risking losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him because he can’t get his head out of his ass.”

You dropped into the hard vinyl chair, inhaling a resigned breath. Eddie told you he didn’t want you here. But if you left, you were only proving him right, showing him that you agreed with him and you didn’t. Because he was wrong. He wasn’t defective. He was hurting. He was human. But he was not a monster and whether he liked it or not, you were not moving from this chair until you knew what was happening in that office.

“What do you want to do?” Steve questioned. 

“I’m not leaving,” you told him, both hands gripping the edge of the chair as if it could keep you from sinking, sinking down into the dark uncertainty that was what would happen next. “He is not getting rid of me that easily. He can push me away all he wants but I have every intention of pushing right back.”

Robin dropped down next to her with a smile, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “That’s my girl.” She looked up at Steve. “See? I’m telling you, she can handle it.”

“Maybe she can, but that’s a discussion for later. After we get through this shitshow,” he groaned, sliding down the wall until he hit the floor, knees tucked up against his chest. “Let’s just see what Hopper has to say because I’m sure Andy is giving everyone an earful at the hospital.”

“Did he need the hospital? Were his injuries that bad?” you asked, knowing a lot of Eddie’s fate rested on that very fact. How badly had he beaten Andy? If his injuries were extreme, getting him off without any time sitting in a cell could be a hell of a lot harder. Self defense didn’t mean beating someone nearly to death.

Steve shrugged, “I don’t know. Knowing him, he’s making it out to be worse than it is. The paramedics said his ribs were bruised but not broken. He had a laceration on his lip and under his eye, some bruising. But they wanted to take him in to make sure he didn’t have a concussion or some kind of brain injury.”

“Jesus Christ, let’s hope not,” you muttered, resting your head against the wall. 

You sat for an hour waiting for Hopper’s office door to open. You were the only ones in the station besides a couple officers. Small towns like this didn’t usually get much action besides the occasional drunk and disorderly or teens getting up to some mischief. So there was absolutely nothing to occupy your time, to keep the three of you from contemplating all the possible ways this could go wrong. 

Another office, Callahan, offered them stale donuts left over from the morning that they all declined. You never turned down a donut, stale or not, but your stomach rolled in objection the moment those sugary treats were in front of your face. 

“Dating Munson, huh?” Callahan asked, a wry grin on his face, pink frosting clinging to his mustache. “Brave girl.”

“Excuse me?”

“You willingly placed a giant target on your back dating the town freak. Brave, like I said, but stupid.”

“What did you just say to me? Who in the hell do you think you are?” you challenged, jumping from your chair, finger pressing into the blue cotton of his uniform. “You don’t know me and you obviously don’t know Eddie. It takes a real fucking idiot to simply believe town gossip without actually finding out the truth for himself.”

“Now, listen here. You’re talking to an officer of the law!” he huffed, chest puffing wide as he tried to exert his power. 

You laughed, “No. I’m talking to a small-minded townie who thinks he gets to say whatever the hell he wants because he wears a badge. What are you going to do? Throw me in a cell because you don’t like me calling you out for your shit?”

Callahan’s face went beet red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. A string of sounds that didn’t even closely resemble words came out of him as he struggled to find something to say back.

“You and this whole town can go to hell because that man is no freak. He’s better than all of you! He’s too good for this fucking town! He’s a good man who you all have dragged through the mud and treated like shit for far too long. It’s amazing he hasn’t already beat the shit out of someone because you all deserve it! How dare you look down your nose at him just because he doesn’t fit what you think a Hawkins resident should be. You have tormented him, dragged him down, and made him think he’s less than what he is. You all stood by and watched him get harassed and abused by the rich assholes in this place and did nothing about it! You condemned him without any evidence and you keep doing it and you’re all disgusting for it! You’re all nothing but a bunch of bullies!”

“Harrington, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like this?” Callahan sputtered, finally finding his voice. 

Steve smirked, folding his arms, shrugging, “I mean, is she wrong? There has never been a single shred of evidence that Eddie did anything to any of those people. Hopper cleared his name. Yet, somehow, this town continues to treat him like a murderer. You don’t think I’ve heard the snide comments you’ve made about him? She's just the first one to have the balls to tell you what you are to your face. So, in answer to your question, yeah. I’m gonna let her talk to you however she wants.”

“What in the hell is going on out here?”

You all turned to find Hopper standing there, Eddie concealed behind his large frame. The police chief looked at each of you in turn, waiting for an explanation. Robin suddenly looked up at the ceiling while Steve picked up a file off of his desk, opening it and examining it like it was something vital he hadn’t just used as an out to answering Hopper’s question.

“Well?” the big guy demanded. “Why am I hearing yelling? I really don’t need another brawl on my hands tonight. I’ve got enough to deal with.”

“I was just informing your officer that he’s an ignorant asshole,” you answered. 

Hopper’s face broke, an amused smile forming that he quickly hid again with annoyance. You leaned to the right, desperate to see Eddie, to see his expression, to try to gauge what he was feeling right now but Hopper concealed him completely. Your fingers wiggled at your sides, anxious to touch him, to soothe him, to take care of him. You just wanted Hopper to tell you that it was all taken care of and Eddie could go home with you. 

“Chief, this young lady is being very belligerent with me. I think we should let her sit it out for twenty-four hours. She needs to learn how to respect a member of law enforcement.”

“Shut it, Callahan,” Hopper grumbled. “The one cell we’ve got already has an overnight guest for the night. Trust me, putting her in there would only make things pretty unbearable for us. Unless you want to spend the night listening to the noises these two would be making.” He looked Callahan up and down, his face scrunching in distaste. “Never mind. You probably would.”

“Wait, what?” you interjected. “What do you mean? You’re not seriously going to lock Eddie up?”

“No choice, I’m afraid. Mr. Johnson has decided to move forward with pressing charges. He’ll have to spend the rest of the weekend here until Monday when he can see the judge.”

“Chief, come on,” Steve urged. “You know he won’t run. Just let him go home and I’ll make sure he’s there Monday morning.”

“Now, you know that’s not how this works. Look, I don’t like this anymore than the rest of you but we have to follow protocol here. We’ve gotten your statements as well as statements from other diners and from Larry. We’ll present all of that to the judge and we’ll see how it plays out.” With a heavy sigh that sounded like it came from the man’s soul, he turned. “Callahan, show Mr. Munson to his room for the night please.”

Callahan stepped forward and you stepped in front of him, panic taking over your body. Logically, you knew you couldn’t stop any of this. It was going to happen but you couldn’t bring yourself to just stand by and watch them take Eddie to a cage. 

“Ma’am, you’re going to need to take a step back,” Callahan told you shortly, clearly still aggravated over your earlier comments. “You cannot interfere with police matters.”

“I…but this…this is wrong! You know this is wrong! Andy is a bully. He beats his own wife. You even said so. He threatened me and grabbed onto me. Eddie was just trying to protect me! You can’t do this!”

“Sweetheart, stop.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, the only voice that could break through, could bring you back to sanity. Eddie stepped around Hopper and he looked so broken, like a small child, terrified but also, even more heartbreaking, he looked defeated. He looked as if he was accepting this fate, as if he knew this was where he would wind up all along and that scared you more than anything. Because if he wasn’t willing to fight, if he plead guilty, he could serve actual time and not in Hawkins jail, in a prison somewhere with real monsters. 

“Eddie, this isn’t right,” you pleaded, choking on the tears that lodged in your throat, spilled from your eyes. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

“This is exactly where I belong. It’s where I was always going to end up. It was only a matter of time. Ask anybody in this fucking hellhole. Just go home. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Eddie, don’t say that,” Robin argued. 

“Robs, I love you. You guys have stuck by me through everything and I could never express how much that means to be. You all saved me but you can’t save me this time. Come on, Callahan. Let’s get this over with. Take me to my new digs.”

“Eddie…” But your voice broke off, fear and heartache cutting off your airway, strangling you as you watched him led away by the officer. 

No. This could not be happening. You'd just found him, this beautiful man who made you feel things you didn’t know were possible. You'd just realized how you loved him and he was giving up. He was just going to lay down and take it. He was going to let this town define him, allowing this town to finally tear away the last piece of his heart they hadn’t already destroyed. You couldn’t let that happen. That piece belonged to you. 

“We have to do something!” you said frantically, looking from Steve to Robin to Hopper, willing one of them to have some magical answer. “We can’t let him do this. He’s just going to accept it. He can’t. He has to fight.”

“Give the kid the night, okay?” Hopper offered calmly. “Maybe a quiet night left to his own thoughts will give him some clarity. I’ll talk to him again tomorrow. There’s no need for him to throw in the towel. He didn’t kill Andy, just maimed him a little. I’m not saying he couldn’t serve some time for that but with all the statements we have, especially about him putting his hands on you, we still stand a chance at getting him out of this.”

“I can’t lose him. I can’t let this town finally destroy him,” you whispered, your entire world caving in around you, threatening to suck you into the darkness once again. But you wouldn’t let it. Eddie didn’t have time for you to disappear into the shadows. 

“Hey.” Hopper stepped forward, both hands on your shoulders. “You’re not losing him. None of us are. I’ve fixed bigger problems than this, kiddo. I am not giving up. We’ll get him to see the truth but for now, everyone just needs to go home and get a good night’s sleep. I will fill you all in tomorrow after I’ve had a chat with him. Okay? But for now let’s just let him be for a little while. He’s had a hell of a day and so have all of you. Go home.”

Then Steve’s arm was around you, Robin’s hand in yours, leading you from the police station. You didn’t fight. You didn’t argue. Because there was no point. There was nothing you could do for Eddie right now. So, you left, leaving the man you loved sleeping alone in a jail cell.

Chapter 22

Taglist

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[little-bloodied-angel]

When I was twelve I read my first queer book. I gasped and cried when Dorian was the hand that drove a knife into Basil; when I understood that meant "his love killed him".

I had been told about it. I had been warned against the kind of love that would inevitably lead to your destruction. I'd been ten when it happened in real life around me for the first time, the boy I'd barely met who sentenced himself to death for who he was, while my school and my church warned us about his sin and slapped gags over our mouths.

I saw it happen again. Again. Again.

When Brokeback Mountain came out the world was so concerned with making gay cowboy jokes that by the time I dodged my mother enough to watch it I thought it was a comedy, and it gutted me. Not just because of the very real and very visceral tragedy it represented, but because I understood that the world would watch even our darkest misery and laugh.

There was no escaping it in this world, and there was no escaping it in art. The happiest endings we got were subtext. We died, or we were a mockery, or we were evil, or some godawful combination of the three.

My best friend died in my arms when I was fourteen years old and he sixteen, and I was supposed to accept that his queerness killed him as though it hadn't been his father and his priest and the self hatred that kept him pliant but ate him inside until there was nothing left.

I read De Profundis and wept and wondered if he hadn't known all along that his love would kill him too.

Being queer and trans and a mixed Jew, and growing up Catholic because the wrong parent took charge, meant growing up with the fear and the shame and the guilt and the pain; it meant burying those I claim as my people, even those who died before I was born; it meant the terror of burying someone else; it meant being pigeonholed in roles I'd never asked to play and being less than a person; and on the screen and the page it was more of the same. At fifteen I'd lived more than most people do at ninety, and I can't remember a time when my soul didn't bear permanent scars. I can remember when I started giving my body scars to match.

I am damaged. Because the world decided they knew what I was and punished me accordingly.

I looked at Izzy last year and I thought I know you, and you know me, and I let the fierce hope in my chest ignite and come fully aflame that once, just once, someone in whose eyes I saw myself would get a happy ending. I heard this show is kind this show is queer joy this show is queer love and we know how much you've needed that and I let it promise me I was safe.

I should have remembered what promises of safety have meant for me in the past.

He deserved so much better and so did we. I don't really know what else to say.

[stranger-rants]

Billy hating his father is about self preservation, and I say this from personal experience. When I say hate, I mean that it presents more as indifference but it is born from a hatred for the things this person has put you through. To show any kind of affection or love for this person is to allow this person to hurt you more than they already have because inevitably they will take everything and give you nothing in return.

Maybe his father does something useful for him once in a while and maybe that makes Billy think he can trust his father to have his best interest at heart for half a second, but that's a lie. His father will betray him over and over and it is better for Billy to accept the "help" when he gets it but not let his guard down for a single moment. To maintain an emotional distance from his father is to protect himself from the impact of his abuse.

If Billy slips up and thinks things could be different, he will get hurt because his father displays no real interest in improving their relationship. His abuser is not motivated to change because he views Billy and Billy's emotions as problematic, and he has spent most of Billy's life trying to mold and manipulate Billy into being who he wants him to be. He wants Billy to be compliant. Any kindness he shows to Billy is to make him compliant.

Billy is different from his father in that he feels shame and guilt. He is reactive to situations whereas his father shows a level of control over his emotions that makes his anger and violence seem planned. He sets up his son for failure and Billy gets baited over and over because he's young and he's in fight or flight mode. His father cares about appearances whereas Billy is fighting against everything that his father stands for, conscious of it or not.

I don't buy into the narrative that everything is so cyclical that Neil had his own Neil and they're all just products of one another and that Billy is destined to be just like him if he doesn't turn things around. My own father is a product of entitlement and praise and he will always choose himself over everyone else because that is what he's experienced his entire life. Hating him protects me from disappointment, and reminds me to be better than him.

So, I am okay with Billy hating Neil - I don't think it has to manifest in wanting anything bad to directly happen to his abuser. I think it likely manifests in Billy being okay with never seeing him again. I think it manifests in Billy being okay with not thinking of Neil as his father because he doesn't act like a father should. I think it manifests in him not letting Neil into his life no matter how much Neil "changes" because those changes are not for him.

I have made significant efforts to repair my relationship with my father but while he can act like he's a different person to other people, he is still the selfish manipulative bastard who cheats on my mother and lies about his accomplishments with his inflated ego - the same person who wont admit the multiple times he had endangered my life and once almost killed me, only to say "I don't know why they won't talk to me" the very next day.

Hating my father is therapeutic to me, and I want people to understand that it doesn't mean that this hatred rules over my life or makes me miserable and I want people to understand that it doesn't mean I have any ill will towards my father. It means that I have cut myself off emotionally from this person because they don't deserve any more attention than I am willing to give and I am giving myself the permission not to care about them.

Billy should absolutely have the permission not to care about Neil. The fact that Billy does at some point try to reason with his father and placate his emotions says that a part of him still cares even if it's just to survive Neil's outbursts. But. Billy should have been given the opportunity to leave that man behind and never care about him again. Neil should have had to deal with his absence in that way, not Billy being taken from him by death.

[uncanny-tranny]

How do I cope with dysphoria about the things I can't change?

For most of the body parts I feel dysphoria about it helps a lot to think about the ways I can change those things with surgery and hormones. Knowing that it's not forever helps a lot.

But there are some things that I can't change. Things like my height or my body type.

I'll be stuck at 5'2 with a tiny, thin body no matter what I do. I feel embarrassed/emasculated about it. Like I'll be a little boy forever.

(So sorry if this is over sharing, feel free to delete/ignore/tell me off if I'm being wierd)

I totally get what you mean, anon. I've had some similar feelings in the past and the things that helped me out were:

1. Looking at other men who were like me. When I looked at my own body, I was looking at it from self-hatred due to dysphoria - I was biased about my body from the get-go. Then I looked at other guys, especially in my family, and realized my body isn't... that special, it's just another body that took on the features of the other guys in my family. And then I looked at the amount of other guys outside my family who had my figure, or my height, and realized I'm not an outlier. Sometimes, that can help reframe how you see yourself.

2. Not beating myself up for those feelings really helps. Self-hatred about how you feel can truly be the start of a pattern of self-sabotage. At this time especially, you deserve to be gentle with yourself. Forgive yourself for not being satisfied with dysphoria. You are not a bad person for how you feel, you are human.

3. I think expanding the things that make you happy can be helpful. Do you have a feature of yours that makes you gender euphoric? If you do, try excentuating that! If you like your eyes, for example, maybe you could try eye makeup, cool sunglasses, or anything that draws attention to the things you like or are at least indifferent to.

4. This takes time, and it's okay to slip and feel like you aren't "making progress". You are, though. Every day, you are making progress (even if you don't see it).

5. I've found that as I transition, it does get easier. When you're in a spot in your transition where you are in a stalemate, it can feel like you'll never be able to move past some dysphoria. I'll say that while your dysphoria may not be "cured" during transition, it does become easier. When you feel at home in more ways, it can be much easier to accept those aspects of you that you might not be able to change.

It's really hard sometimes to feel like you're making progress in how you feel about yourself, and it can take a long time. I won't lie, it is hard, and I'll let you in on a secret of mine: even I have a hard time. Many trans people are almost ashamed of their dysphoria or the harder aspects of being trans, and that's understandable. The shame is a part of being shamed for being trans. You aren't alone in this, many of us just don't talk about these hard topics.

I hope we can start having these more difficult conversations, though. You don't have to be ashamed of your dysphoria; you are only human. You aren't a bad person for feeling these ways. You deserve kindness and the time to express how you feel, even if those feelings are "negative". I hope time will be kind to you. I hope you have people in your life you can talk to about these things, without shame, even if it is to just vent. You are worth the effort it takes.

[cosmichighpriestess]

Your love is Priceless.

No one can tell you who you are, or how to feel. No one.

Because you have every reason to have boundaries when you don't want to experience what you already experienced. High standards keep low quality experiences and people away from you. It is also very lonely, and very testing of your patience when you decide to no longer accept surface level, lower vibrational, low quality relationships just because you're lonely or becoming impatient-which is perfectly okay and normal.

But others will not understand you, they will be very confused. If you already saw the red flag and the one red flag was enough for you to say I'm placing a boundary here. It's not your fault your heart has been closed. You once used to be so open and loving with everyone until you realized how valuable your energy and time were. How divine and precious your soul is, to let another person in just for them to use your energy, siphon it, take it as their own and then betray you and toss you aside like a piece of trash. Understandably, you've been dragged through hell by people who just wanted to use your energy and copy you. It may take some more time for you to open up. Your higher self communicates to you through your heart. When something feels off, that is your higher self communicating through your heart. Your heart is the key. 🗝️

That is why it is so important you are in observation mode with the people you are around, are they truly being kind or are they being nice to your face and still talking about you to everyone behind your back? Make your notes, but don't let their facade fool you. If you are someone that used to be very nurturing and loving until they beat the joy and love out of you, my love- no they didn't, God has been hiding you, cloaking you and you lost yourself in the waiting. But the love was always there but they unconsciously gave you all of their shame, guilt, self hatred and pain, and you've been carrying those dense energies in your heart, your thoughts and your heart chakra has been needing open heart surgery ever since because it's been never ending.

You took their pain on as your own and transmuted it over and over. You are now ten times as powerful because you felt all the pain for them, because they refused to be alone with themselves. That is why they are confused, how are you still smiling by the way? How did you do it? They don't understand you because you don't have to run away from yourself. You love being alone. But even black sheep need a community at some point in their lives, your rare kind deserves more than most because of what you suffered for too long.

Communication is key. In the next few days and weeks and months you will be speaking more. You should begin to communicate what you went through, what you feel like now, and how it affected you deeply into wanting to be kinder to all living beings. Because you never want anyone to feel the way you felt. Your kind, nurturing, loving, giving heart is still in there. It's beating faster and faster now, it's being opened and healed because the world needs your love again. The world needs to see you. The world needs to see an awakened being loving with no agenda other than to heal broken hearts.

Your smile could move mountains. Your smile could make someone's entire month. Communication is key because we end up becoming so divided and causing wars over misunderstanding each other. Speak your truth in a mature manner including everyone's feelings into consideration and release expectations of their reactions. If they don't like it, oh well, you don't agree to be affected by them negatively, at least they know now how you've been feeling. Help them see through your perspective what life has been like the last year or even ten, twenty, thirty, forty years. Communication breeds compassion. Communication is the number one main ingredient for any successful, healthy relationship.

If you have no communication or no real connection based on truth and love then you are both bound to misunderstand each other. Some of us are mind readers, we are moving into a new age where everyone will become telepathic. But it starts by activating your empathy and compassion to another being. You need to understand that person or animal or being in order to help them. You have to let go of needing to be in a competition or a need to be right or receive validation.

Forget that we've graduated from that level of thinking a long time ago. We are here to recognize each other as God and look at that person with compassion and love and forgiveness and say, you know what it takes too much energy to hate." I love you and I want us to understand each other. " If they reject you, oh well, if they reject your truth and gaslight and blame you oh well, you don't need their approval or validation to know what you felt and experienced. You activated their own self healing just by being an example of truth and love.

Just think to yourself "Oh, this is a person still separated from Source. I created this version of them a long time ago. They created a version of me they think I still am. They are in denial that people can change. They don't know they are just another aspect of me and I am another aspect of them. It's okay I've been there. I felt lost, stuck in the blame game, stuck in the illusions, at war with my own demons, stuck feeling like a victim before too. I understand I've been there. But at least I spoke up for myself and honored my truth and my experiences and I still have compassion for them and myself. God sees me. God knows I'm trying to open up and God will send me people more aligned with me now." Catch a beautiful glimpse of the spark within you and you will take your power back.

And just like that. Not only did you awaken them gently to their own healing, to help them ascend and jumpstart them into having a deeper connection with themselves, and God/Source and others but you shapeshifted into a higher version of yourself that already exists that is already helping heal so many people and awaken so many people just by offering your love and compassion. More communication equals less confusion equals less time doing mental gymnastics with yourself equals a higher vibration and opening your heart, the portal, the skeleton key that opens all the doors. Your heart is the key, your heart is the guide, your heart is the light that leads the way.🗝️❤️

[tophsazulas]

So, I'm gonna be honest about a few things regarding TVD, because a lot of the things I've seen recently are just very confusing and weird to me. One of the main things is the amount of vitriol Caroline has been receiving as of late. It's very clear that the hatred and misogyny towards Caroline is very much rooted in sexism and misogyny. You can try to spin it and try to tell me different all you want, but I see right through the BS. 

Caroline may have had her flaws and faults, but she was nowhere near as bad and horrible and toxic as you and everyone else have made her out to be. I mean, my goodness, you make it sound like she was a terrorist or something, or like if she was just the absolute scum of the earth. So what if Caroline did have fans and defenders back in season one? That's okay and not a bad thing at all. 

I mean, it wasn't an issue for murderous vampires, abusers, and rapists to have fans and supporters defending and justifying their horrible and disgusting actions, but god forbid people could actually identity and relate to a teenage girl, who was simply flawed and confused and actually had growth and development, unlike even Elena herself. 

And comparing Caroline to female characters from different shows doesn't really make for a valid argument either. A lot of the things you say about Caroline and accuse her of being are actually all the things Elena was. Elena was by far the biggest and most self-centered, selfish bitch in the entire show. All the hate she received from fans was very well-deserved and justified, and you won't convince me otherwise, so don't even bother defending that bitch to me. 

Elena dating and sleeping with a rapist/abuser is not even remotely the same thing as Caroline sleeping with Klaus, where at least there it was consensual and Caroline did it on her own free will. And I don't even ship Klaroline, but even I can tell the difference. And if Elena had told Caroline that she needs to get over it and accept it, that would've only made Elena an even bigger cunt and piece of shit than she had already beyond proven herself to be. Disliking Caroline doesn't make what Damon did to her null and void or in any way means that she deserved it and had to get over it.

So, overall, to me, it just comes off like you're just talking out of your asses and making shit up as you go along and making stupid excuses to hate Caroline for reasons that don't exist. Which once again, is all just sexism and misogyny from your end. And you call out Caroline for slut shaming other female characters (which I will say is probably the only thing I didn't agree with and disliked about her character), but you and everyone else in the fanbase has no issue being sexist and misogynistic and slut shaming Caroline or the other girls on the show. Hypocrisy at its finest.

Oh god you Caroline stans are exhausting 😩

1. No one ever called her "toxic" or implied she’s a terrorist. Most of us just call her out on her hypocrisy and her actions. Just because she’s a fan favorite or whatever, doesn’t absolve her of criticism. Y'know the kind that you guys love to give to Elena and Bonnie, but you can’t take valid criticisms about your fave.

2. I don’t have issue with people defending Caroline in season 1. At least when her horrible behavior towards Elena and Bonnie wasn’t justified, and no one who talking about oh so mean they are for excluding her even though Caroline did it to herself by not listening and making snarky comments and in general being an insensitive asshole.

3. Funny how you bring up Elena and Damon not being free will, but also call her a "cunt". And I’ve literally said that if the roles were reversed and she told Caroline to get over her fucking her rapist and get out of her life, people would be saying that Elena should’ve died on wickery bridge. But Caroline is someone a #girlboss when she does it. Fuck off.

And also the fact that Caroline had the choice and still chose to sleep with Klaus makes her worse than Elena. Because Elena was literally sired and had no free will when it happened. Caroline chose to fuck Klaus, and giggle and brag about it to Kat!Elena.

4. If you talk to me about Caroline’s “growth” one more time, I’ll—

5. It’s also hilarious how you talk about sexism and misogyny, yet call Elena a “bitch”. Also “whiny cry baby”?? Lmao because she cried over actual trauma, but Caroline making a big fuss over a prom dress is funny, huh?

6. As far as I know, nobody has been slut shaming Caroline. If you’re talking about me saying that almost every guy sans Jeremy and Jamie had some sort of “link” to her, is that not true? Hell, she was engaged to Alaric in the later seasons.

You clearly love Caroline and nothing wrong with that, but don’t try to force it on people who don’t kiss her ass and always justify when she did something wrong.

[boreal-sea]

You look like Eddie Redmayne and nothing you say on this blog makes sense. I know your white privilege allows you think you are special and unique by whatever pronouns you decide to go by and what disability you diagnose yourself with, but you’re nothing special.

You know in school when you would sit in (IEP) Math class and those two kids across from you were constantly whispering and giggling? Believe me, it was about you. That moment in gym class when the P.E teacher let everyone pick their own teams and you were in the last 3 to get picked? Completely intentional.

If you didn’t have this blog, you could maybe get a nice barista job where people would awkwardly smile at you while you double checked their coffee orders because your brain is too slow to process what an Americano is. I think for the sake of your own sanity and self-respect that is probably your best option.

Go touch grass. A makeover wouldn’t hurt either.

This ask is bizarre because it starts off with a compliment???

Like, thank you, I know I look like Eddie Redmayne, he's the celebrity I am most often compared to and apparently a lot of people think he's like, super hot, so I consider it a HUGE compliment to be compared to him. I'm not sure if you were trying to insult me or not, but it's definitely a compliment.

Yes, I am white. Unfortunately, I really hate to inform you of this fact, but POC trans people exist. Black trans people exist. Asian trans people exist. Hispanic trans people exist. Etc. Being transgender is not "white privilege". Using pronouns isn't "white privilege". Literally every culture around the world has trans people. I'm gonna assume you're white for having such a culturally ignorant take on transness.

And then there's the ableism. Why is transphobia always hand in hand with ableism and hatred of disabled people???

There's no shame in being mentally disabled. Mentally disabled people ROCK. I've worked with disabled folks as one of the many careers I've had in my life, and they are SO AWESOME. Mentally disabled folks deserve respect and dignity, they deserve to live in a world where they can achieve whatever they want with whatever amount of support they need. They don't deserve to be treated like an insult, which is what you're trying to do here.

You absolutely cannot insult me by calling me mentally disabled, because I don't think it's shameful to BE mentally disabled.

As for whether or not I was teased in school: of course I was. Again, you can't hurt me with that, I'm 37, not 15. However, I take solace in the fact that y'all could never come up with anything particularly scarring to call me. One of y'all tried to insult me by calling me a mitochondria. You know, the power house of the cell??

And YOU just tried to insult me by calling me Eddie Redmayne.

Y'all have always been bad at insults. Like, hilariously bad.

I'm gonna stick a selfie on this post because I think I look very trans today and I felt so confident when I went to the pharmacy to pick up more testosterone!

[midnightslumbers-world]

People who have THINSPO accounts should be charged with 3rd degree murder if one of their followers dies.

if you actively come to this platform every single day and post content encouraging young girls to starve themselves you are essentially a murderer.

The other day I saw a post of someone aestheticising eating 240 calories a day??

In the Warsaw slums during WW2 the NAZIS only fed the Jews 300 calories a day to starve them to death- around 100,000 Jews died between 1940-41 from starvation and diseases related to malnutrition.

This person is trying to make 240 calories a LIFESTYLE. This is not dainty, cute coquette and a testament of how much admirable self restraint you have.

You are encouraging a lifestyle that LEADS TO DEATH. You CANNOT eat 240 calories a day, you will DIE. It is not “feminine” and “dainty” to look like a war experiment patient. You look ill. you NEED HELP.

SECONDLY, the reason the people running these accounts deserve to be punished is that mental illness is NOT AN EXCUSE for encouraging other people to harm themselves. If you told someone to kill themselves and then they did, you can face up to 14 years in prison.

So how is encouraging them to starve any different?

I was an anorexic for a very long time because I became brainwashed by these accounts. Everything becomes a competition, I would scroll for hours seeing how much people were eating and trying to do less. This resulted in me dropping to 70% of my body weight and being told I would have 6 weeks to live if I continued.

My heart was so weak the doctors were scared when we began re-feeding I would have a heart attack. They told my parents the condition is called “re feeding syndrome” a phrase coined after WW2 when many of the death camp survivors died from simply eating food again. Their body could not handle the sudden introduction of sugars and fibres.

Many anorexics DIE because they have been following diets aestheticised on the internet that are similar to NAZI STARVATION RATIONS.

Secondly, saying “oh this is my diary account” “this account is so I can vent” “ I struggle with anorexia as well” is NOT AN EXCUSE for encouraging and giving people TIPS on how to KILL THEMSELVES.

people use these accounts to establish their superiority over others. the subtext of their 'tips' on how to starve is them telling you they are thinner, healthier and have better self control then you. there is a shaming element implicit throughout. even when disguised as some sort of twisted help, there is a criticism of all those who don't have the self control to follow their DEATH DIET. thinspo quickly turns into 'fatspo' of using pictures of women who don't look like they are about to drop dead as 'motivation to starve'. it is disgusting.

these accounts create hierarchies to place anorexics above people who can actually enjoy life. there is a superiority complex despite the fact every 1 in 5 anorexia deaths is a result of suicide. Without treatment, up to 20 percent of all eating disorder cases result in DEATH. they want to romanticise THE HELL they are living in and drag everyone down with them.

I know exactly how they feel because i had the same condition, and i'm still struggling with it. and i used to think i was better than people who ate normally. but they weren't the ones who couldn't sleep because they were so hungry, who couldn't walk in a straight line because their legs were so weak, whose hair was falling out from malnutrition. but most importantly, i didn't come online, even in the depths of my violent eating disorder and continue this cycle of hatred.

no matter how bad anorexia gets, it is not an excuse to come online and ENCOURAGE other people to die.

You’re NOT YOLANDA HADID, you’re not an older-sister figure trying to help other “girlies” out with your romanticised and twisted vision of beauty.

You have more in common with the NAZIS than with Kendall Jenner or Lily-rose Depp or any of the other models you have clutched to from a Pinterest board.

[true--north]

The truth of these hollow words, Helsa AU

This happened sometime in the interwar period.

The Aren family lives in a rich, beautiful country mansion. The younger sister Anna is cheerful, lighthearted and romantic, and the older sister Elsa is serious, cold, always with her books that are her entire life. Because only they are her window to the outside world. She has been ill since childhood, seriously ill and has isolated herself in the mansion, not wanting to ever come out into the light.

Anna tried to cheer her up by saying that even with the illness life could be so much more, that she deserves to have it; but Anna did not know what kind of pain and self-hatred her sister was hiding inside. Elsa thought she could not belong. Her answer to Anna's tries was always Close the door, Anna.

One day Elsa was reading a magazine and saw the dating ads section there. One ad attracted her, although it was silly and teasing; an ad from "the Cursed Prince", as his pseudonym said. She thought she was going crazy, but nevertheless she wrote him a letter full of irony and sarcastic questions and asked her maid Gerda to send it.

Thus began her correspondence with the Cursed Prince; whose real name was Hans, and who was the son of a once ancient aristocratic, but now ordinary family. They wrote to each other about books, about their siblings and parents, about nature and spiritualism. They were the same. Elsa poured out her whole soul to him in letters (except for the fact of her illness. She wanted her little world of letters to Hans to be a happy fairy tale.)

She lived for this illusion of love — yes, she fell in love with Hans by letters, despite all her usual mantras of conceal, don't feel, don't let it show.

Hans also fell in love with Elsa. He wrote to her that he had never met someone who could understand him the way she did. Who could be so close to his heart.

He asked for her photo card by sending his own.

Elsa decided on a reckless miserable step – she sent him in response a photo card of Anna in her best evening dress, having fun at a dance party with her friends. She sent it as her own. Hans replied that he was fascinated by her.

No one knew about their epistolary romance except Gerda.

Elsa kept sending him pictures of Anna, putting on the guise of her younger beautiful, healthy and kind sister.

Soon Hans started talking about meeting in the city. Scared, Elsa said she couldn't leave the house because she was taking care of her parents and sister. Sad that he could not see his beloved, Hans suggested that he come himself to the Arens'.

Frozen with fear, Elsa stopped writing to him, even though it was painful; she missed Hans, but it couldn't go on anymore.

But one day, on a serene summer evening, the car stopped in front of the gates of the Aren mansion. Hans and his driver Kristoff got out of it.

In the garden by the pond, they noticed Anna feeding ducklings. Hans, smiling, walked towards her.

"In real life you are even more charming than in the photo, Elsa. I'm sorry I came without warning, but I suffered so much when you stopped writing."

He kissed the hand of a confused Anna.

"I was afraid that something had happened. Is everything all right, Elsa? Please, say something."

Anna looked from Hans to Kristoff and giggled nervously.

"But I'm Anna, Elsa is my older sister. And I see you for the first time in my life. Who are you?"

Elsa watched this terrible scene from the window of her room. In desperation, she decided to run away from home so as not to see Hans, so as not to burn with shame and fear. Everything has gone too far, she was a fool, she can't be free.

Overcoming the pain, Elsa slipped through the back door out of the house — for the first time in for ever — and disappeared into the forest.

[a-tale-never-told]

Wow........

Oh, don't act so surprised about this, you all vehemently knew this was coming! It was all just a matter of when this was going to happen, as I would've gone on the same Hope-inspired speech even if I wasn't here in Hope's Peak at this moment in time. So do not even try to act that you all simply didn't know!

Still, I'll have to admit that I went incredibly too far in insulting Mahiru by calling her a feminist, but it truly annoys me whenever people leap to someone's defense and come up with the most idiotic, worthless arguments about claims like this. I simply had to put Koizumi in her place, considering that she basically tried to come up with a miserable excuse for an argument.

But I will say that it is truly inspiring to see someone as kindhearted and dedicated as Mahiru truly put some effort into defending worthless trash like him! Especially considering that she always usually puts incredibly high expectations of men!

Y'know, there are sometimes that I can't honestly tell if you want to be friendly or not. One moment, you are acting all sweet and massively caring towards our safety and wellbeing, and then you go into tremendously long rants on why Hajime is the literal scum of the earth.

It honestly depends on whether or not you try to interpret it. However, I simply have no hatred or any ill will toward you, Mahiru and I am ashamed that I had to resort to insults that are shameful for an Ultimate like me to say. But I honestly do still believe that I'm in the right to say the truth, whenever I want or need to say it.

Which is, exactly?

That Hajime Hinata is truly talentless, worthless scum, and that he simply and absolutely deserves to be put in this place. This man doesn't truly care about the purpose of being an Ultimate, he only cares for nothing more than symbol status and recognition by others! And I will not let my fellow Ultimates be corrupted into falling into his ways!

You actually really are delusional, aren't you? You honestly think that the world automatically revolves around talent and that certain individuals cannot strive to be successful, don't you? You constantly project your self-loathing rants so much, that you can't even be bothered to accept reality even when it's staring you in the face!.

My dear Mahiru, it is simply not a delusion, but rather a way of life that humanity has adopted for centuries on end. No matter what happens, those who are talented from birth are always simply going to achieve significantly more than those ordinary people who contribute nothing to society, other than to be stepping stones for the rise of an eventual greater hope! After all, isn't that what life truly is all about?

[lesp1een]

After Montreal (Shawn x Bret)

This is basically just a short "vent" fic about Shawn and how he felt after Montreal, dealing with his own mental health issues and the guilt of betraying the man he loved.

TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide mention, drug abuse issues

CONTENT WARNING: None

Stars were supposed to blow up, and then fade away. 

Would it be painful? Or would it be quiet? 

Rain keeps pouring through the window and he's in his bed. How many days has it been? 

Waking up, popping some pills to numb his own pain, going to work and faking pride, glory and a happiness he never ever felt in the first place, and then going back to his hotel room, to his too full cigarette tray and his empty pill boxes. 

At least he hasn't been seeing him for days. It would destroy him, to look at his eyes again. How shameful it was for him to kill that smile forever, to put hatred in the eyes of a good man. 

He did it for glory, he did it for power. He did it because if he did not, he probably would have been fired.

It was stupid for him to think that Bret would understand. 

"You would have done the same!" tears kept flowing on his cheeks as he spoke. Those fake tears, Bret probably thought, coming from a pathetic, manipulative man like Shawn, meant less than nothing to him.

Beet would have done the same, but he wasn't the one doing it. So that night, Shawn lost everything he had. 

He lost his co-workers' respect. He lost his lover's trust. 

He betrayed him. 

There was no Achilles and Patroclus, there was no crying over a lover's dead body. 

Shawn was Hector, and he pushed his blade right through Bret's heart. 

Vince wanted him to be number one, and he became the star, shining under the spotlight, crying his own self to bed every night. 

Guilt, it was guilt. 

He didn't care about opinions, because there were too many coming from too many people. He cared about Bret. 

And to him, he was nothing but a traitor. 

"Thanks for the match." were the last words he said to him, Shawn looking up at him from his seat, and he knew it was a farewell to him, to them together, to what used to be love, toxic, diseased love, but still love, and became something worse than hatred. It was disappoinment.

Between one cigarette and some painkillers, he still tries to contact him. After the infamous event, and after Bret left wwf for wcw, they haven't been talking. 

He is still so delusional and pathetic, he wants to say sorry to him another time. Knowing nothing could fix it. It was all done. 

Nobody answered. Bret has probably blocked his number, at his point. 

He answers calls, it could be him, after all, but it's always Hunter and Diesel. They're worried for him, they care about him. 

If he wasn't selfish, he would have stopped what he was doing for them. 

He doesn't. 

Whatever cowards do to disappear, he was doing it. 

He always wanted the hollywood star lifestyle. The "dolce vita". The being loved and doing nothing to deserve it. The drugs, the alcohol, the hedonism, the women and the men. 

He had it all, and he wanted so bad to get destroyed by what he craved for all his life. 

"Hear me out, Bret!" his broken voice sounds like cries through the vial, sending messages that would never be heard. "You broke me! I didn't ruin any career, you're still wrestling, you're still loved, but you ruined my life!" 

"Now everyone hates me…  you hate me… you hate me after all we had together!" 

"Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you, you ruined everything." The mirror tells him, as he's staring at his reflection. You are undeserving of love. You were born for the sole purpose of people using you. And you destroy everything good that happens in your life. Everything! You're ignoring your friends, who are worried for you! The people who care about you, you are pushing away from yourself. They will let you go, they will keep living their own lives, and eventually, you will be alone. 

If nobody cares about you, if they don't remember you anymore, you cease to exist. 

It's what you wanted, right? This is what you wanted. You want to disappear from your own mind. That's what all those drugs are for, right? For shutting your thoughts up for an hour or two, until it's time to give it another shot. 

You've become predictable. 

You're so full of yourself you think that everything should go as you want, but nothing goes as you want, Shawn, because this is life. 

And life doesn't care about what you want. 

People die all the time even if they don't want to. If you want to die so bad, do your own work, because life owes you nothing. 

It doesn't owe you pity, and it certainly doesn't owe you happiness or satisfaction. 

Life isn't unfair. Life is working for nature's well-being. And if you die, nature will not care. It will eat your body to feed her children from the earth. 

Make your decision, Shawn. 

Do you want this or not? Because nobody will give it to you, not if you don't pay them enough. 

When you get used to swallowing down pills everyday, it will eventually get easier. Sometimes you will even be able to do it without water. And that's a wonder, because it's not easy to go get a glass of water from the sink, when you are trapped in your own bed. 

It's shutting up again, and Shawn can rest. 

"Bret Hitman Hart here. Unfortunately, I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message."

"Bret Hitman Hart here. Unfortunately, I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message."

"Bret Hitman Hart here. Unfortunately, I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message."

"Please call me. I want to talk to you. I want all of this to be fixed. I'm sorry Bret, I'm really sorry for what I did. I love you so much even if you don't believe me. I messed up, and I messed up badly. Please give me another chance, even if I don't deserve it. At least talk to me…"

We can get back to punching each other's guts, to spitting in each other's face in private just like we did in public. Let's go back to when hating each other wasn't only a storyline. To when you cared enough to at least say mean shit to me and I didn't care enough to cry for you. 

Don't give me silence, I cannot stand it. I'm living in it, and it's loud in my ears.

So loud I have to turn the tv on and the stereo on and call your stupid number only to hear your pre-recorded voice speak.

You know that short novel? 

Giacomo Leopardi, "Dialogue of Nature and an Icelander."

You're acting just like him. Blaming everything else for your disgrace, blaming powers that don't care about you.

You're blaming Vince, you're blaming the company, but do you think they give a shit if you suffer?

"Vince, why did you not show any mercy?" 

"Oh, Vince, why did you make me do it?" 

"Vince, you're so cruel." 

The company doesn't care about you, Shawn. Vince doesn't care about anything. He's the opposing power to Nature, and it works just like it. 

You put your life in capitalism's hands, and it destroyed you. 

You think that it's evil, but there is no evil in capitalism. It doesn't care. Vince doesn't care. 

His power works for money and only that. It works to sustain itself and grow just like Nature does. 

Don't blame the lion for eating you, the lion is only doing what he was born for. 

He was doing it to survive, at your cost, at Bret's cost. 

You're disappearing, that's Nature's circle of life. 

Would something change if he really disappears? 

Would Bret cry, would he be sad, or would he not feel anything at all? 

He knows someone would cry if something bad happened to him. His family loves him, his friends care about him. 

Even his fans would probably cry. 

Canadians would surely have parties to celebrate. 

He would get called selfish, like everyone does when someone takes their own life. 

Selfish because he has everything everyone would ever dream of. 

Fuck it, he has everything little Shawn ever dreamt of. 

And then there's his drug problem, there are massive depressive episodes, there is crippling guilt breaking him apart. 

He's rotting inside, the Heartbreak Kid, The Showstopper, the one who is an inspiration for many, is slowly dying, and it's his fault. 

Not Vince's, not Bret's, it was his fault. 

"It's raining. It's raining too much."  

He finds the first public phone and dials Diesel's number, which he knows by memory, just like Bret's. 

"Shawn, what's going on? Where are you?" 

Breaking in tears, Shawn let himself on the cabin's floor and curled up, phone still in his hands. "It's raining, and I almost slipped over the bridge, Kev. I was gonna do it, I was gonna die…" he was wailing, his speech incomprehensible. "I don't want to die, I'm scared…" 

"Shawn. Baby, I'm coming to you. Tell me where you are, okay? You're not gonna die, you're alive, I'm gonna bring you back home."

Make your decision, Shawn. 

That night he decided to live. 

He was falling apart when Diesel brought him home. He was soaking wet. He cried. 

He cried in his friend's arms and Diesel cried too. 

How hard it is to feel someone fall apart in your own arms. How relieving it is to still feel his breathing body.

"We're gonna fix this together, but you have to talk to me."

"Bret Hitman Hart here. Unfortunately, I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message."

"Bret. I know you're not gonna answer the phone. 

It's been years, and you still haven't unblocked my number" A sour laugh breaks his speech, and he lets out a deep breath. "I didn't call you for some time, but I was dealing with something very difficult. I don't think you really care to know, but I was suffering a lot. I was dealing with grief, grief of losing someone who I loved and now hated me. I was also dealing with depression, and drug abuse, but you already know about that. You've grown to know me so well during those past years. 

I'm healing. It's taken me almost committing suicide to seek help, but I'm healing. I guess I'm not totally healed, because I keep calling a ghost number, but I'm trying really hard.

"I am still sorry, Bret. And I still love you so much, you are one of the most important people to me-

"Sorry, I'm getting a little emotional. I guess I missed you more than I thought.

"If you're hearing this, please think about what I'm about to ask you. Let's meet each other. Let's go out for dinner or whatever you want. I want to talk to you, I want to hear how you feel because I've only heard myself until now. And if you choose not to answer this message, I will still cherish every moment we had for tye rest of my life.

"I love you, Bret."

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

x. polite because no one deserves to be purposefully treated rudely. kind because kindness keeps a person gentle. sweet because making people smile is uplifting. helpful for the same reason. supportive because if you dont have anything nice to say, it's extremely easy not to say anything at all. above all, do unto others what you would have them do unto you.

o. polite because it's the best way to fade all the way into the background. kind because i'm too afraid to let myself be cruel. sweet because of overwhelming&pathetic desperation to make people happy. helpful because it's too exhausting to cause waves. supportive because other's goals are a great distraction from my own. above all, a smile makes the best camouflage as long as no one can ever see you sweat.

x. lonely+isolated because of mental+physical health restrictions. i miss people-- i miss being surprised, i miss relating to people on any level that isn't abject pain. i miss connection, communion, community.

o. alone+introspective because it pays off to be so. i don't miss people at all-- in fact it is a true sign of growth that it is not my knee-jerk reaction to say that i hate them for everything that (an admittedly small sampling of) people have done to me.

x. i am so terrified of communication at this point, &traumatized by Other People just in general, that i regularly shut my notifications off on everything because the sound of any form of notification ring that i recognize can literally kick off vicious panic attacks and send me running for dark corners, lmao. i am pathetic-- but i am a survivor.

o: i am charming, fun, &social to varying degrees dependent on the work. i am adaptable, everything from the center of attention to support staff with ease. smiling through blood in my mouth&talking to basically anyone for minutes to hours is child's play-- literally, since that is when i learned it.

x. pride over the skills i've developed over a lifetime of nonsense. made possible by mania, perhaps.

o. shame over the skills i've developed over a lifetime of nonsense. put off by disassociation, definitely.

x. i am kind and small and smiling and invisible. please just leave me alone. please don't even look at me, i literally cannot bear it, i just want to be alone again, please do not hurt me, i will do anything to make you happy if you just promise not to hurt me.

o. i am vicious and bloody and loud, and i will make you look at me, i will make you see me. i will give you a reason for that sneer, &i have no problem giving and taking blood in the process. my blood is worth so much less that i will win this no matter what-- i am braver than you could ever be because i have nothing that i'm afraid i'll lose.

x: i just want to make people smile.

o: i just want to never see another living person ever again.

x: like me, like me, like me. please just like me. i just want to be safe from abject hatred. i just want to be likeable. i can be anything, anyone-- it isn't like i want to keep all my parts, anyway, just tell me what i need to toss to be normal. just tell me what to chop off to be loveable.

o: i will give you every reason to fucking hate me if that is what's going to happen, anyway. i have spent a lifetime becoming who i am, usually against my will-- i can finally look in the mirror without flinching, &i won't let anyone take that away from me. you'll pry my forced self-acceptance out of my cold, dead hands.

x: i have been so lucky. i have been so fucking lucky. every single day i am reminded of all the many ways it could have been worse, things could have been worse, life could have been worse. i am so lucky. i owe the red string everything for letting me finally be someone i like sometimes.

o: i might have been lucky, but somehow i doubt anyone treating my gratitude or happiness like a red flag would be capable of living a day in my life-- or any singular one of the days i've lived thus far. but i can definitely give them a taste if that's what they need to wipe the snide looks off their faces. i'll hate myself after for giving in to the temptation, though. i always do.

x: there's good in everything. if you look for it, there will always be good somewhere. you just need to look. happiness is a conscious decision. kindness is a conscious decision. being a decent person is a perpetual and conscious decision.

o: there's bad in everything, too, and the second i see it, i cannot unsee it. or forgive it, usually. why is it so much easier to see how much people fucking suck?

x: i want perfection. practice, constant effort, dedication-- i need perfection, i'll get perfection. if i can't, what's the point? if there's not even the possibility, what is the fucking point? how am i supposed to live if i know my lifelong goal is&always has been unattainable?

o. perfection isn't an objective possibility. how many times&different ways do i need to fail at the impossible reality before it actually settles in. it isn't possible. i'm dedicating my life to an impossible pursuit. more specifically, i'm committing myself to eternal&constant punishment for failure. why, though. why am i like this.

x. i hate myself so much sometimes i feel like i might actually lose my mind.

o. i am so full of pride sometimes i feel like i might burst at the fucking seams with it all.

x. i am terrified that i'm not capable of living unless it's fighting uphill. who am i without the struggle? who am i past the trauma?

o. if fighting uphill is what made me what i am, what does it matter if i never lose the edge? why should it matter if i need the extra motivation? if i can handle it, why should the struggle be a bad thing?