#vegan stigma

[daffodilhorizon]

i've always been outspoken about equal rights. It started with posts about mental illness stigma. Since being traumatized as a child, i've struggled with depression and anxiety. I opened up about this, in hopes others would feel inspired to share their stories. There's every reason why suffering from mental illness should not happen alone. Then i started talking about gay rights and biphobia and feminism and #metoo and the patriarchy. I tirelessly educated on rape culture and mansplaining. I went hard on telling people to vote (haha) for the most liberal option available. I told people about the wealth gap and classism. I educated myself and read both anarchist and communist theory, and then i started criticizing colonialism and exploitation itself. I advocated for unions, i told people to never cross a picket line and to support strikes. I was already ACAB before Ferguson, but after that i spent years reading antiracist theory and seeking out black revolutionaries. I had to tell an extended family member "all lives don't matter until black lives do". I did not shy from my work in attempting to gently radicalize the people in my life. I attempted to educate others on why we need prison and cop abolition and the alternatives. I got pretty far, even with people i don't consider leftists! Like anyone else, i of course, advocated for environmentalism. I myself do not own a car and go to great lengths to use fully renewable energy. I re-use before recycling. I avoid plastic when i can. In my veganism self-education, i learned about disability rights. This was enforced further during covid. I stopped using ableist language or comparisons. I have successfully eradicated using comparisons to intelligence in my daily life and gently correct people around me when they use them to use a better word. None of this lost me any friends. Until i brought up animal rights. Even the tamest "i'm vegan" had acquaintances putting distance between us. My entire family turned on me, simply for saying stuff like "you are a good person, you just don't see the difference between your cat and a pig because of defense mechanisms, but you would be upset if your cat went through what animals at those places do." or saying killing a turkey is wrong. Then i started losing friends and being ostracized. From people who said nothing even when i pointed out war crimes against Palestine and are full anti-capitalists. People who are open minded, and generally kind to others. People's environmentalism evaporated when i pointed out that methane from cows is x28 as heating as CO2 in the short term, that we can't stay under 2c without people being plant based, or that the majority of plastic in the ocean is from fishing nets, or that fishing is killing way more sea turtles and other "cute" animals than straws. Even just mentioning animal victims a few times every now and then is enough to make people uncomfortable. Definitely not a sign of their own guilt or anything! How painful must the reminder be, to have to completely block out not only the victims at every meal, but humans who remind them of the suffering they are inflicting as well. So it's very jarring to me now, to see other people advocating for other causes saying much more extreme things and not getting any negative social feedback. Straight up mainposting things like "you are a bad person for voting wrong" is becoming more normal with the election season coming up. But vegans get shut down simply for bringing up animal abuse, because carnists know deep down it's wrong to hurt animals and objectify them into commodities. That's why they care so much about animals they view as "cute" "pets" or value (at least on the surface) animals they admire for being free and wild such as Elephants, pretty birds, and whales.

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[manicpixiefelix]

Felix loves when Vampire!Reader feeds on him not just because he loves and cares for them so so much but because vampire bites feel indescribably good. It's euphoric and erotic for both participants.

And if Oliver were to witness it? Perhaps peeking through the dorm window or slightly open door? He feels such a mix of emotions including longing.

Absolutely including this, I'm loving this AU, as well as the far AU, I'm sorry I haven't been posting them I've got so many damn thoughts for all of them!!!

Also along these lines, 1. At Oxford and in most of their life, the reader hides their nature as a vampire but will absolutely joke about rumours that crop up about them.

2. Duncan is a vampire too. There's a stigma around vampires, but his job is secure so he's comfortable being identified as a vampire and there's a novelty about it for guests to Saltburn, you know? The Cattons say he's a "vegan" and they get deliveries of animal blood from local butchers every week (which they do, but it's more like a snack), but the reality is that both Elspeth and Sir James allow him to feed on them for the same reason Felix let's the reader. Elspeth is Very Into It. Its the worst kept secret in the house, especially since they try and keep up the "vegan" cover story with their children. They know the reader is a vampire and are in wilful denial of their feeding on their son. They like to believe the reader is a "vegan vampire" too.

Also please picture Reader and Duncan, both overwhelmed by the idea of an upcoming dinner/social event at Saltburn, both sitting on the counter of the kitchen, both drinking a blood bag of pigs blood like a Capris Sun, side by side in preemptively tired silence.

Duncan and Reader are friends in every universe I will not take criticism on this.

[butch-reidentified]

ID: Screenshot reading "You will recognise it as an arguable point as soon as you switch the victim to a species that you think morally matters. Humans will inevitably die too" followed by a comma before the screenshot cuts off. It is not shown who the author is.

Preface: This will be a long post, but I think it's worthwhile as part of my efforts to open up real conversation about psychopathy and the stigma + misinformation surrounding it. The main reason I'm making a separate post instead of reblogging is that this post is not really intended to be about veganism. I'm more using the contents of the above screenshot to dive more into a topic I've touched on a few times recently.

Humans being "a species that you think morally matters" is an interesting assumption I often see vegan activists make. I've been undecided for a while about talking about this because I know how controversial this is and don't feel a strong desire to deal with the fallout of posting it/saying it outright, but seeing as I've always tried to be as honest and open as possible in here: I do not actually think humans "morally matter." I do not think killing is inherently wrong, either, regardless of species. Just about every creature on Earth engages in killing, either of each other or of members of other species, if not both. I don't think humans are sacred or special in any way, and thus are no exception. I don't see humans killing each other as any more INHERENTLY (this word is incredibly important here... obviously) wrong than, say, leopards killing each other. My culture used to engage in religious human sacrifice, so I have thought about this a whole lot, and it is a bit of a discourse topic in my community to this day (some even think we would be better off today if we had not stopped giving human sacrifices to the gods).

Most arguments for killing being inherently immoral that I've encountered are directly or indirectly rooted in religion, a societal value accepted without question, and/or the result of emotional reactions. One response I often get to this is that if I don't think killing is inherently wrong, I'm not allowed to be sad about it or grieve when people are killed - the idea being that this is somehow hypocritical. This is nonsense. I don't believe abortion is wrong in any way, but I'd never dream of telling someone who had mixed feelings about her abortion that she was a hypocrite for it*. Having complex, mixed, or even negative emotions about something does not make that thing immoral. Not to jump too far into moral philosophy**, but my view is that emotional responses are not - or at least should not be - an indicator of morality in any capacity. I suspect that more people agree with me on this than realize they do, and here is an example of why: Some people feel badly about killing an insect in their home, but most people do not consider this wrong. Even when it comes to humans, many - if not most - people would likely experience negative emotions when they kill out of genuine necessity, such as in self-defense, but very few people will argue that this is morally wrong, that you should just allow yourself to be harmed or killed if someone attacks you.

In this sense, it would be most logically consistent for me to view hunting wild animals in their own territory (as opposed to shit like when rich people transport animals to a personal hunting ground so they're guaranteed not to lose their prey) for food as morally superior to livestock farming, and I very much do. Traditional hunting is the method of killing for food most similar to that of other animals, as far as I understand. That said, I'm not remotely an expert on the topic beyond having hunted before as a kid and having a general understanding of animal behavior at the college level.

However, I will not pretend like I always behave consistently with the moral conclusions I come to. Like I've discussed before, I don't have an emotional response to violating my own morals. I simply didn't come wired with that feature. I don't really feel guilt or shame, so when I do something "bad," whether by my standards or others' standards, I either don't care at all or make a deliberate effort to cognitively "scold" myself, depending on the circumstances. I do consume meat that I have not personally hunted in the wild. While I do not think that livestock farming, especially modern livestock farming, is good in any way (ethically but also environmentally and health wise), because I don't have an emotional reaction to that thought (but do receive dopamine when I eat tasty food), I have so far been unable to convince myself to stop consuming meat.

I have said previously that I am glad that I am the way that I am, and that remains true; I do think my psychopathic traits are overwhelmingly more beneficial than not. This, however, is one example of the ways it actually is a negative to me - I really can't force myself to care about something I don't care about by default, and often have a hard time making conscious decisions that run counter to what produces dopamine. For this same reason, I have repeatedly failed to cut out gluten despite my doctor's insistence that I need to, and despite knowing how much better I feel (no daily migraines!) when I do abstain from it for a while. I tried to go vegan before and found that I latched onto very unhealthy junk food that was vegan by nature, like Oreos, and was eating incredibly badly. It does not help that I don't know how to cook, partly because my genetic disabilities make cooking a difficult endeavor for several reasons.

I am well aware that some people may be upset by this post, and may feel a need to label me a bad person for being this way. This is your prerogative, and I am certainly open to hearing your responses to this post, within reason. If all you want is to "punish" me for this, send me hate anons and insults, feel free, but I'll go ahead and let you know it doesn't do anything to me... not to mention I'm very used to it already as a radfem blogger. If you still want to do so because it makes you feel righteous or something, by all means go ahead, just be aware that it will not elicit a response from me in any way you'd desire, and definitely won't change my thought processes or behaviors. If you want to have an actual conversation, though, I'm more than happy to engage, answer questions, and hear your perspectives.

*I chose this specific example not because anti-choicers think abortion is killing, but because I have seen women be told that their sadness or grief about an abortion (which, btw, does NOT mean she regrets it!) is somehow "pro life" and that she can't talk about how she feels or else the right wing will use it against us. This is also nonsense, and fucked up nonsense at that. The right wing will use whatever they can; I'm in no way disagreeing with that. However, silencing women and girls to serve a narrative is not the answer. The lived experiences of women and girls (or any marginalized persons) cannot ever be devalued or concealed just because the enemy would use them against us. Actually, this is the same response I have given when told I should hide the fact that I didn't regret my mastectomy, or even that I should pretend that I did regret it. My story, my truth, is mine to own and discuss as I choose, whether it could be weaponized by ideological opponents or not. Same is true for all marginalized persons.

** If you are interested in moral philosophy, specifically where morals come from/what people base morals in, this page and the following pages (there's a Next button in the bottom right corner) sum it up pretty well on Page 1, then dive in a good bit more thoroughly with individual pages for each "root cause" of moral systems.

Side note: I will be reblogging this later because it's 6:30am EDT and a lot of my audience is in the USA. I worked hard and spent a lot of time on this, so I'd like it to actually be seen. Not much point trying to educate/inform/raise awareness if nobody sees it lmao

[acti-veg]

about the last post, the "no matter what it is, if it's associated with vegans they will find a reason to hate it" and I can say nothing truer has ever been said. I live in Italy and we have vegan staples like pasta with oil, garlic and chilli pepper, or pasta with beans. and people when think of veganism just FORGET about them. they think I as a vegan eat just salad all day. like??? my guy. my pal. pasta with beans is right there. rice with peas is RIGHT THERE. why would I deprive myself of those delicacies just because in the minds of meat eaters vegans are miserable?

I’ve seen this at parties and work events so many times, a very normal food like a potato or pasta salad is labelled vegan, and nobody wants to touch it. Doughnuts where the only thing that is different is that the dairy milk has been replaced with oat milk and they’re consistently the only ones people don’t eat.

I don’t know how we can get people to understand that vegan food is just normal food that we’ve been eating for thousands of years that doesn’t contain animal products. Vegan fabrics are just regular fabrics we’ve all been wearing our whole lives. Most of the staple foods of most of the world are plant-based foods, this insistence on including meat or dairy in every meal is a privileged habit that is very new in the grand scheme of things.

People miss out on so much delicious food and sustainable fabric options just because they have a prejudice against anything with the word ‘vegan’ on it, even ‘plant-based’ has the same bizarre stigma for many. More than that, people will have to dramatically reduce their meat and dairy consumption and opt for more sustainable fabrics in order to make their lifestyles more sustainable. Avoiding anything that isn’t made of meat, dairy or leather is the complete opposite of what they need to be doing at this stage.

[honeyandpumpkins]

being poly and vegetarian myself i feel like what’s really going on is that people get weirdly defensive of their own food/relationship choices bc they assume that poly/vegan people are judging them simply bc they made a different choice. i have never met a vegan or poly person who presented themselves as morally superior, but i have met a lot of people who start acting weird around me when all i do is mention that i’m vegetarian or poly. with being poly especially ive had to contend with how the stigma will affect me socially or professionally. i would hope that other queer people would understand the hurt that comes with feeling like you have to hide your relationship to protect yourself, but no having positive feelings about your relationship is apparently just as annoying as people who call you an ugly amoral cheater.

[emmaharrison]

Navigating a Healthy Vegan Pregnancy: Why You Need Vegan Connects.

Pregnancy is a beautiful journey, but for expecting mothers following a vegan diet, it can bring unique challenges. How do you ensure you’re getting all the nutrients you and your baby need while staying true to your plant-based lifestyle?

The great news is that a healthy vegan pregnancy is absolutely possible with the right guidance and support. That’s where Vegan Connects comes in—a vibrant online community for vegans, aspiring vegans, and plant-based enthusiasts living, working, or visiting London.

At Vegan Connects, we’re here to empower vegan moms-to-be with knowledge, community support, and the best advice for maintaining a balanced and nutritious vegan diet during pregnancy. Whether you’re already on the vegan journey or transitioning while pregnant, our group is the perfect space to find support and share experiences with others.

The Challenges of a Vegan Pregnancy

Pregnancy, while exciting, can also come with added stress—especially when it comes to nutrition. Here are some common concerns expecting mothers on a plant-based diet may face:

Getting Enough Nutrients

One of the biggest worries for vegan pregnant women is ensuring that both they and their baby get the necessary nutrients. Key vitamins and minerals like iron, calcium, vitamin B12, omega-3 fatty acids, and protein are critical during pregnancy, but these can be trickier to source on a vegan diet without the right knowledge.

Overcoming Social Stigma and Doubts

It’s not uncommon for family, friends, or even healthcare professionals to question the safety of a vegan pregnancy. Many expecting mothers face pressure to abandon their plant-based diet in favor of traditional prenatal nutrition, which can create additional stress during an already delicate time.

Finding Reliable, Vegan-Friendly Pregnancy Resources

There’s no shortage of pregnancy advice out there, but it can be overwhelming trying to find resources that align with a vegan lifestyle. From pregnancy-safe meal ideas to advice on supplementation, knowing what’s best for your body and baby can be a challenge without a reliable community to turn to.

Maintaining Energy and Managing Cravings

Pregnancy can be physically demanding, and maintaining your energy levels while managing pregnancy cravings on a vegan diet can be tough. Many women wonder how to fuel their bodies in the most nourishing way, while also satisfying the natural cravings that come with pregnancy.

How Vegan Connects Can Support You Through a Vegan Pregnancy

Vegan Connects is the solution to these challenges! As a brand-new Facebook group, Vegan Connects is designed to help pregnant women and plant-based families navigate the unique aspects of a vegan pregnancy. Here’s how our community can support you every step of the way:

🌱 Get Expert Nutrition Tips for a Healthy Vegan Pregnancy

At Vegan Connects, we regularly share expert-backed nutritional advice on how to meet your dietary needs during pregnancy. Whether you’re looking for ways to boost your iron intake with plant-based foods or need guidance on the best vegan prenatal supplements, our community is full of helpful resources.

🌱 Find Meal Plans and Delicious Vegan Recipes

Expecting moms can browse through meal prep ideas, nutrient-dense recipes, and easy-to-follow meal plans designed to meet the specific needs of pregnant women. Whether you’re managing morning sickness or have specific cravings, Vegan Connects has plenty of delicious ideas to keep you nourished.

🌱 Connect with Other Expecting Vegan Moms

One of the biggest benefits of joining Vegan Connects is the opportunity to connect with other expecting moms. Share your pregnancy journey, ask questions, and find solidarity in a supportive space where other women understand the unique experience of a vegan pregnancy.

🌱 Get Support and Overcome Social Stigma

If you’re feeling pressured by others to abandon your plant-based lifestyle during pregnancy, Vegan Connects can provide a supportive network to boost your confidence. Our members share experiences, offer encouragement, and can help you find the right words to explain the benefits of staying vegan during this important time.

🌱 Discover Vegan-Friendly Supermarkets and Products

Finding vegan-friendly foods that meet your increased nutritional needs during pregnancy can be tough, but Vegan Connects has got you covered. Our members regularly post recommendations for the best vegan products, pregnancy-safe meals, and supplements available at supermarkets across London. We also have tips on where to find high-quality plant-based products that fit into your budget.

🌱 Stay Updated on Vegan Events and Community Meetups

Staying social and connected during pregnancy is key to your well-being, and Vegan Connects keeps you in the loop on vegan events, meetups, and workshops in London. Whether you’re looking for vegan prenatal yoga classes or workshops on plant-based nutrition, our group is your go-to source for all things happening in the city.

Join Vegan Connects Today and Embrace a Healthy, Plant-Based Pregnancy!

Are you ready to make your vegan pregnancy as healthy and stress-free as possible? Join Vegan Connects today and become part of a supportive community of like-minded women who are navigating the world of plant-based motherhood. Whether you’re looking for expert advice, meal inspiration, or just a place to share your pregnancy journey, Vegan Connects is here for you.

Join Vegan Connects now and ensure you and your baby get the best start on your plant-based journey!

https://www.instagram.com/vegan_connects?igsh=YzljYTk1ODg3Zg==

tiktok.com/@nickfinacials

[just-antithings]

"By agreeing with proship beliefs but not calling myself a proshipper, I have elevated myself above ~petty fandom squabbles~ and have rendered myself immune to fandom harassment!" Oh man is anybody gonna tell them? (Anyway, it's like saying "I believe Jesus is the Messiah but I'm not a Christian", "I don't eat animals but I'm not a vegetarian/vegan", etc etc. Like there's a word for "person who does what you do", and not using it doesn't render you immune to the stigma of doing what you do.)

👀👀👀👀

[111seedhillroad]

If you look towards any unalienated/semi-alienated community in the world, the most unifying aspect is always food and we know intuitively just how important food is. This shared cuisine of people is rooted really in a shared mode of subsistence and a shared way of place-specific life. The movement of civilization is the uprooting of these ways of life; of place-specificity; and replacing it with a unified, homogeneous food culture based around a surplus of a select few crops. Ethnic cuisine ultimately becomes a relic, a memory of ways of life being lost.

In countercultural circles the prevalence of veganism speaks to the desire for a new food culture; the critique of the animal husbandry is less important than the ties that construct a vegan counterculture. Ultimately it is a consumer lifestyle choice, a simplified critique that mobilizes our predisposition to acknowledge taboo, reinforce stigma and moralize feelings of disgust. In the communal house the sharing of homogenized lentil and rice dishes is imagined as prefigurative politics in the kitchen but its really more like Sumerians lining up to fill their grain rations or devotees taking communion.

The person who overcomes taboo and develops a taste for cockroaches has achieved more than this communal house; they found a way to commune directly with the inhabitants of their city and subsist in spite of sealed-away soil. Every self-subsisting community that eats what it does has developed a cultural adaptation to their environment and one of the primary aims of civilization on its frontier is destroying that capacity to commune with and therefore adapt to and inhabit the land beneath us.

[storiesbyrhi]

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 17: Glory

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 5617 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; verbal fighting; meat (turkey)… for the vegans

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: 1987.

Author’s Note: Reminder that in this fic the new school/college year would begin at the end of January/start of February (because I’m Australian and applied our system to the U.S. accidentally).

This is the final chapter of Angel of the First Degree! Chapter 1 was published at the beginning of August 2022, so it’s been a couple of months riding this very emotional and hopefully healing ride. The story started as one of those little bedtime fantasies. You know the ones where you pretend your pillow is Eddie and you’re totally somewhere else? When I started to write it, I decided that I wanted to put a whole lot self-love, self-acceptance, and self-reconciliation into it. To have so many people read this and get something genuine and positive from it is beyond cool and into the land of super fucking special. Thank you to everyone on the taglist, and to everyone who commented and reblogged. This fic is dedicated to every chubby girl that thinks they’ll never be loved; you will be, and it will be glorious. xo Rhi

You had always hated sleepovers. When you were a kid, your parents put immense pressure on you to be good and polite. Be the perfect guest or else. You stayed rigid, having no fun and remaining quiet. Most of the time you weren’t invited over again purely because you freaked the other kids out. Assuming you had done something wrong to warrant the cold shoulder, your parents would punish you.

In your teenage years you hated them because you were terrified of having to get changed in front of other people. It wasn’t just about the weight you were killing yourself to keep off. Hair. Scars. Moles. Dips. Bumps. Acne. There was a never-ending list of things Hayley could pick on. At school you could duck behind lockers or sneak into toilet stalls. Sleepovers were exposing.

Sleep would never come. Partly, the anxiety was keeping your heart rate too high to settle. The room would be too hot then too cold then back again. Every sound was amplified. Partly, you purposefully kept yourself awake long after everyone else was asleep. You had no idea if you snored or if your tummy gurgled or what other noises your body would make when you weren’t in control. It was a horrifying thought.

Then, 1986.

Then, Eddie.

Then, beautiful healing and glorious acceptance that a body is just a body; it means as much or as little as you wanted.

When Esther invited you to a sleepover in the first week of January, you were genuinely excited. It was just you and her living the slumber party dream. Snacks and movies with cute boys. Sneaking booze and giggling. It was proof that friendship between two girls absolutely could and did work. You needed to learn that after high school.

Esther drove you home mid-morning, hugging you tightly before watching you wave from the trailer door. As you waited for her to drive away, you glanced at Eddie’s van. In a brief and passing thought, you noted that it looked like it was full of boxes or something. Maybe Corroded Coffin got a gig and he was sorting equipment out.

As you entered the trailer, Eddie was closing the bedroom door and turning to walk down the hall.

“Hey, angel,” he greeted, meeting you half way to hug you. He walked you backward until you were in the living room. “Have fun?”

“Mmmhmmm,”

“Break into Esther’s dad’s good stuff again?”

“Yep,” you replied, popping the P.

Eddie grinned. “That’s my girl.”

You nudged your head into his chest, like a cat asking for a pat. He obliged.

“What did you get up to while I was gone?”

“Sex, drugs, rock and roll,”

“You listened to Reign in Blood again while writing that dungeon master guide for Gareth?”

“Yep,” Eddie said, mimicking your tone and popping the P.

You smiled at each other, then Eddie let you go. When you stepped around him, intending on throwing your backpack down in the bedroom, he grabbed your wrist.

“Ah, actually, could you sit in here for a second? I have some… news.”

Anxiety’s greatest hit Flight or Fight started playing in your head. The moment he saw your eyes go wide and body freeze, Eddie tried to smile, taking you to the couch. You let him take your bag off and hold your hands.

“I don’t like this,” you blurted out.

“It’s nothing bad! It’s good. I promise. I mean… I think it’s good. It’s good.” He was reassuring himself as much as you.

This was the moment.

Eddie had been orchestrating your future for weeks. In the process, he had broken the law, forced all your friends to keep secrets from you, invaded your privacy, and made sweeping guesses about decisions you should have been the one to make all along. But it was all for you. It was to make it up to you. It was to give you what you deserved. It was to show you that he loved you. That he would be by your side no matter what you were doing or where you were doing it.

All you had to do was accept it. Eddie was terrified that you still hadn’t learnt how to do that.

“I’m gonna say some shit, and you’re gonna want to tell me to shut up. And, uh, I’m bringing up some stuff that we said we wouldn’t talk about anymore. But you’ve got to promise you’ll hear me out. Like, just let me finish this whole thing before you… lose it or whatever. It’s the only way you’re going to understand. You have to promise.”

Your eyes were already welled up with tears and there was nothing Eddie could do about it. As he held your hands, he kept looking from your matching red rings back up to your scared face.

“But it’s good?” you whispered. The single guess your brain would allow was that he was going to break up with you because of something that had already happened, something you had no power over anymore. You needed him to tell you it was good, that it was going to be okay.

Eddie nodded. “Yes. Yes, I promise. Nobody’s dying,”

“You’re not br-”

“No! No. Sorry. Sorry, I should have started with that. Fuck. I’m fucking this up. Planned every goddamn detail but it’s all coming apart now… Ah, no. No. We’re good. We’re… great… I’m sorry. I’m… nervous. That’s why I need you to just hang in there and let me get it all out,”

“Okay,” you promised, your expression no less sad but slightly less scared.

Eddie took a breath and forced himself to look at you as he spoke. “We… were stupid to never talk about this year. Like, after high school. We never talked about it but I knew you’d applied to colleges. It was kind of in the back of my mind. You know? I just kept ignoring it because I’d just got you, like, really properly had you and if I thought about you disappearing on me… It, ah, worse than sucked? Freaked me out. Then the letters came and I… I don’t even know what I did. Turned into my dad. I was just… scared-

Then you said you didn’t want to go and we could pretend nothing happened and it was fine for like, a second, but it wasn’t really… I felt like shit for making you have to pretend you never wanted to go. Because you did. And I don’t know if you really believe everything you said, about it just being a way to get away from your parents. But, um, I didn’t believe it… I still don’t… So… Yeah… I had fucked up in this huge way that meant pushing your life onto a path it shouldn’t’ve been on… So… So, I’ve… fixed it…”

It sounded like one long sentence, void of punctuation and pause. You had rebuttals for many points but were focused on waiting until the end.

Eddie read your face, the way your lips were slightly parted and your eyes had cleared. He continued.

“I’ve been tryna find the right way to tell you everything. You know, in a way that explains it all properly. So you don’t have a million questions. Dustin said to start at the end and work my way back, but I think that will just confuse you. Kid thinks it will be romantic that way, but I think this is beyond… all that… Esther said to start at the start, which sounds dumb now I say it out loud. But, you know, my head was tellin’ me not all good stories start at the start, you know?”

“Eddie.” He was rambling, getting off topic.

“Sorry. Fuck. Sorry. Yeah… I’m starting at the start. And, um, the start is that I called The University of Chicago and got them to re-send your acceptance letter and all the other stuff. We did all the paperwork and shit. Enrolled you. We had to pick some classes, but you can change them once you're there, if you want to, and-”

You let go of his hands and stood up. “Eddie. I’m not going-”

He yelled your name, startling you into silence. “You are. You are going, but I’m going with you. Please just fucking sit down and let me finish.”

Slowly you moved back towards him. Eddie reached out and held you by the hips, pulled you back down onto the couch gently.

“You’re going. You’re enrolled. The only thing I couldn’t do was apply to get your scholarship conditions changed. The letter is ready to go, all you have to do is sign it and hand it in, in person. You can petition to change the ‘cost of living’ from a dorm to rental cheques. It’s not a dollar-for-dollar swap, but it’s something to help with rent, you know?”

No. No, you didn’t know. Eddie was using words and phrases you had never heard before. You didn’t know what a ‘cost of living’ condition was, and you didn’t know what he meant by ‘help with the rent.’

“I got an apartment. It’s tiny. Like, smaller than the trailer, but it will be enough for us. You’ll catch a train to class. And, um, I got a job. You know John?”

“Wayne’s John?”

“Yeah. Cath’s sister owns a bar. She’s giving me a trial shift, but I won’t fuck it up. Know my around the bottles so that’s pretty much a sure thing.”

You still didn’t know what was happening, not really, but it was nice to hear Eddie back himself. He paused, searching his mind for any other important details.

“I think… think that’s it. Your scholarship pays for most things you need. I’ve got enough saved to cover us for a few months. That’s why I’ve been selling so much. For this. And that’s what I was doing in Chicago… Uh, yeah. Alright. That’s… it.”

Eddie had his concentration face on. Eyes to the ceiling and tongue poking out, he was thinking. When the expression softened into neutral warmth, he looked at you expectedly.

Your body felt weightless, like it was floating. When you stood and walked down the hallway, you were just as surprised as Eddie. One foot in front of the other, you let your body take you to the bedroom, open the door, and turn the light on.

The room was packed up. There were three boxes neatly stacked in the corner, labelled ‘Eddie – childhood shit,’ ‘Wayne,’ and ‘donate/trash.’ The furniture remained, but even the mattress had been stripped of linen. Eddie’s posters weren’t on the walls. Angel and Hellfire were nowhere to be seen. Everything was gone.

“It’s all in the van,” Eddie explained from behind you. “Landlord said there’s no parking spaces for the building, but there’s an empty lot across the road everyone uses.”

When you stepped into the bedroom, it felt surreal.

“We’ll be there by late afternoon. Got a couple stops on the way.”

You spun around to face him. “Wait. What? What do you mean?”

Eddie frowned, looked around the room he had grown up in. “We’re leaving today,” he said, spelling it out.

“No…” You shook your head. “I… I can’t just… We…” Shock? Were you in a state of pure shock. Reaching out for something to ground you, Eddie was there before you could take another step. He clasped his hands to yours.

“You can. We can. Everythin’ is ready. All we gotta do is go. All you’ve gotta do is trust me… And you do. You trust me, right?”

Blinking hard, you stopped looking around the room and focused on Eddie. His baby cow eyes that inspired Hellfire. His soft lips that sang Tupelo Honey. Slowly, you nodded.

“Yeah? I’ve got you… I know this is scary. It’s terrifying for me too. I’ve never really done more than sit around here and sell weed. Never had actual responsibilities or whatever. But we can do this,”

“We can do this,” you repeated in a whisper.

Period blood and fat rolls and food. Pressed flowers and red gems and vinyl records. Anxiety attacks and displaced fear and shame. Fangoria hoodies and fairy lights and kitten ears. You could do this.

A tear rolled down your cheek, just another for Eddie to wipe away. He leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. When you leaned up into him, he kissed your lips and pulled you into him hard.

“Wayne will be home soon. Let’s eat something and wait,”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah. Everyone does. They’re all waiting for us to come see ‘em before we go.”

Homesick. You felt homesick and you hadn’t even left the trailer.

Eddie had only just covered the Honeycomb with milk when the rumble of Wayne’s truck made you jump up off your seat like a dog waiting for their owner. As soon as he was in the door, you ran to him and clung.

“Guess it’s happening then,” he said, a sorrow to his tone you didn’t quite catch.

The sobbing was out of your control. Eddie came to hug you into a Munson sandwich. Both he and Wayne were doing their best manly man thing in a shitty attempt to not cry too. Wayne’s jaw was clenched tight and Eddie’s eyes glistened with tears.

When you took a nearly-normal breath, Eddie wrapped his arms around you from behind and hoisted you up, carrying back to the kitchen. You stood at the bench and looked into the bowl of cereal, your stomach in knots.

“You gonna eat that?” Wayne asked, taking the bar stool seat opposite you.

Shaking your head, you slid it across to him.

“What are you gonna do with all the quiet?” Eddie asked his uncle.

“Sleep. In a bed. Regularly,” Wayne answered. He was playing it cool but you knew he’d be lonely without Eddie. “Proud of you both. Gonna go make something of yourselves,”

“I mean, let’s not get carried away. She’s the genius. I’m just bartending,”

“You’re leaving Hawkins, Ed. S’not nothing.”

Eddie looked at Wayne, then quickly turned his head away, wiping the tears before they could fall.

“Nobody’s died, kid. Chin up,” he said to you then.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

Eddie stepped closer to you, pressing his side into yours.

“Being an adult is scary. And trusting someone else with all your shit is scary. But after last year, somethin’ tells me it’s gonna be alright.” It was less optimism and more sage wisdom.

The three of you stayed together for a round of instant coffee, then Wayne presented a parting gift. It was a brand new toolbox fully stocked with essentials. “Never know when a screwdriver comes in handy,” he’d said.

Wayne hugged you tight and watched you get into Eddie’s van, crying again. You couldn’t hear the words exchanged between the two, but you watched them through the windshield and felt guilty for separating them.

Eddie climbed into the driver’s seat and took an audible breath out. “Okay,” he said mostly to himself. He looked over at you and nodded. “Okay?”

You couldn’t muster words, but you affirmed him with a nod.

As the van pulled out of Forest Hills Trailer Park for the last time in a long time, you didn’t bother asking where the next step was. The resignation hit you hard and it felt like exhaustion. You were too tired to think about what was happening to you. The emotions were all so intense and so conflicting that it had begun to feel like the absence of emotion. You just stared out the window and disassociated.

Reality crept back into your mind when the route to Esther’s house became apparent. As Eddie turned onto her street, you burst into tears again. They were all waiting.

Esther’s garage door was opened, shielding the group from the January cold. Once Gene spotted the van, everyone came running down the drive waving.

Esther and Gene. Gareth and Jeff. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will Byers, who had yet to return to California. Max and El. Even Jonathan and Argyle stood against the house, sharing a joint.

Your door was ripped open and Esther pulled you from the van. Although tears were streaming down her face, she was grinning ear to ear.

“This is good. This is good!” she kept repeating, knowing you needed to hear it as much as possible.

The group presented you and Eddie with a large box, wrapped in a comically big bow. It only just fitted into the van, Eddie and Jeff pulling stuff out to play Tetris with boxes and bags.

“Open it when you get there,” Esther instructed.

“We all helped,” Dustin added.

Everyone wanted to tell you what role they had played in this grand gesture of love and faith. Dustin and Suzie, and the hacking of The University of Chicago’s system. Gareth keeping you busy while the others filled in college paperwork and agonised over what elective classes to enroll you in.

When you had spoken to everyone and there was nothing to do but leave, you felt like you were going to puke. You had genuine and kind and weird and wonderful friends that truly knew you and loved you. And you were about to leave them.

“Chicago is only a couple hours away,” Jeff reminded you.

“And if Notre Dame doesn’t work out, maybe we’ll transfer and come crash your party,” Esther added. She had told everyone about how Notre Dame only began to accept women students as of 1972. Esther was already ready for fight, so you knew she’d burn it down before letting it give her anything other than a world class education. She and Jeff had both been accepted and would live in dorms on campus.

Gene was off to The University of Illinois, leaving Gareth in charge of the now-sophomores and Hellfire Club. “Look after the children,” Eddie said to him, ruffling his fluffy hair.

Eddie had resolved himself, helping you and your shaky knees back into the van after hugging everyone again. You cried and watched everyone run after the van for as long as they could, which, for a bunch of nerds and freaks, wasn’t long.

The van pulled over once Eddie had driven around the corner and down the block a little. He pulled the hand break on and got out. When he opened your door, you launched yourself at him, letting him hold you while you sobbed.

Eddie moved you until you were pressed into the little space between the van and open door, keeping some of the cool air from getting to you. Three bittersweet minutes passed before you could collect yourself, sniffling and wiping your nose on your sleeve.

You looked up at Eddie and his beautiful face.

“Next stop is optional,” he said softly.

Nodding, you hugged him again.

“They don’t deserve it, but, I don’t know, it might be good for you?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I want to.”

Driving through your old neighbourhood was strange. People’s yards had changed. Plants had grown. Shutters repainted.

Your parents’ Ford Escort was parked in the driveway of the house you’d never really called home. Looking at it, you remembered what it was all like before Eddie found you behind the woodwork shed. Before Of Mice and Men. Before ‘basketball’ safe words and sticker charts.

“Ready?” Eddie asked. When you nodded, you both got out of the van.

Like she had done when Eddie last was there, your mother opened the front door before he could knock. You stopped walking when she did, suddenly afraid of her. She said your name like you’d returned from the dead. Eddie felt your hand squeeze his tighter.

“Do- Do you want to come in?”

You and Eddie followed her through the living room and into the formal dining space. Your father was at the table, newspaper in hand and a cup of coffee sitting on a coaster. He folded the paper in half and set it aside as the three of you entered the room.

“Please, sit. Do you want tea? Coffee?” your mother asked, a picture of a perfect host. She seemed more fragile than you remembered. You’d grown for nine months in her womb. She had birthed you, bloody, raw, and screaming. And there she was, offering tea.

“No. We’re not staying,” you answered.

The house was quiet and clean. Sanitised. Lobotomised.

“Then, to what do we owe this pleasure?” The cruelty had not shifted from your father’s voice.

“I’m leaving.”

Your mother looked to your father for the right reaction. He looked genuinely shocked, and you saw it in the few seconds he took to hide it.

“I’m taking her to Chicago. She’s going to college. Guess we owe you a thanks for bringing the letters ‘round,” Eddie said in the same voice that always guaranteed detention.

Before he could speak again, and he was just about to, you pre-emptively cut your father off. You knew what he was going to say. “Eddie’s got a job there. We have an apartment. If anything else comes for me in the mail, forward it to the trailer park.” You could have said ‘forward it to Forest Hills’ or even ‘to Wayne Munson,’ but you very specifically wanted to say ‘trailer park.’

“Well, what’s your new phone number if-” your mother started, grabbing a pen and notepad from the dining room’s buffet drawer.

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “If someone dies, call Wayne at the park. Otherwise, that’s it.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Eddie was committing the expression on your parents’ faces to memory. He was delighted at their floundering. And you, you were surprised at how easy it was to do it – to say goodbye on your own terms. They suddenly stopped being so terrifying, instead, they were just… pathetic.

“What did you want then?” your father asked.

It was a fair question and you gave it a moment’s thought. “I want… I want you to know that I’m happy. That I’ve been happy. Happy living in a one-bedroom trailer. Happy being in love with the big bad drug dealer. Happy eating bad food and getting fat. Happy drinking underage. Happy having sex. And like, weird sex too. I’ve been happy being me. Because I’m good. I’m good and smart and beautiful and strong, and it has nothing to do with you. That’s… that’s what I want. I want you to know that everything good about me is not because of you. And I hardly think about you… So, if someone dies, you can call Wayne. Maybe I’ll come. It really fucking depends on what I’m doing that day.”

Eddie had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing or cheering. His eyes went wide and he stared straight at the ground because he knew if he kept looking at the dumbfounded and horrified looks on your parents’ faces, he’d lose it entirely.

You finished your speech, feeling beyond exhilarated. “Fuck,” you said to yourself.

“Fuck,” Eddie agreed.

You looked at him and his ten billion megawatt smile. “I love you,”

“Oh, no, I love you,” he replied, a small chuckle following his words.

You and Eddie collided in a kiss, then left the room without so much as a final glance or one single word more.

…

Maybe it wouldn’t be the last time you and Eddie jumped the fence and walked to the secret spot behind Hawkins’ drive-in, but it probably would be. You sat side-by-side on the ripped out backseat and got lost in your minds.

Eddie thought about when he asked Ms. Kelly and Mr. Barnes for help. He thought about the day you handed him a list of words. About the softness of your thighs and the smell of burnt paper and the trust you’d placed in him.

You thought about smashing pumpkins with Esther and Jeff, and the school dance and hotel room. About Build-a-Bear and gingerbread armies and how Eddie’s fuzzy hair was lit light a halo on sunny days.

“Are you gonna miss it?” you asked Eddie.

“No… You?”

“No. I don’t so.”

…

Two months later.

“Nobody will know. I’ll be super sneaky,”

“Eddie… There is nothing about you that flies under the radar.”

Eddie sat on the edge of the fold-up bed. It was the one Wayne used to sleep on, and it was on the ‘to do’ list. The list was as follows:

get permission to repaint ceiling

repaint ceiling

need: T.V.

need: VHS player

need: some houseplants

send Wayne dumb postcard

replace bed

pizza coupons

get quotes to Eve

BUY 1987 CALENDAR ASAP why? – to put down my due dates and your shift times – that’s cute

need: bedside table?

call everyone to give number/address

need: bookshelf

put extra lock on door and windows

try Niko again – who’s Niko – from The Hideout - ?? – not the Hawkins one

“Please? I wanna know what it’s like to be one of the special smart people.”

You pulled your jumper over your head and looked over at him. He grinned and winked. It was ridiculous.

“I’m leaving in ten minutes,” you warned, giving in.

As you packed your college notebook and texts, and put a layer of mascara on, Eddie hurried around. Jeans and boots – his Reeboks were the first casualty of Chicago weather – and a heavy jacket.

The apartment was easy to keep warm. It was small, barely more than a room. A kitchen nook and space for a circular two-seater table. A thrifted television set sitting on a coffee table, and a bookcase. The fold out bed was pushed up against the far wall. And, the bathroom could only hold one of you at a time. Still, it was perfect.

On the train to college, you rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder and closed your eyes. It was nice to have him there.

“So fancy,” Eddie whispered as you made your way into one of the buildings and through to the lecture hall.

You took your usual seat to the left, near the back but not too far. “You have to be quiet,” you said to Eddie.

He mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. You were smiling at him when Kamala threw herself into the seat on your other side.

“I swear to fucking god, the guy who makes my coffee spits in it,”

“What?”

“Here. Taste this. Does it taste like spit?” She shoved a cup of takeaway coffee in your hand. “Seriously. Does that taste weird?”

From behind you, Eddie’s arm reached around and he took the cup. You and Kamala watched as he took a fearless mouthful, then handed it back to her.

“Yep. That’s spit alright,”

“I fucking knew it,”

“Eddie, don’t encourage her,” you warned.

“Holy shit. This is Eddie?” She dramatically leaned forward to peer around you at him. He gave her a little wave; she gave him nothing. Sitting back up she gave you a face you absolutely couldn’t read.

“What?”

“He’s like… Super hot,”

“Yeah,”

“Even though he looks like he listened to bands that use more hairspray than me,”

“He does,”

“No, I’m fucking serious. He’s like… Super babe material,” Kamala said like it was going to be on the test. She looked around the room. When you followed her gaze, you realised she wasn’t the only one that had spied Eddie and his hotness. “Seriously, like, what the fuck. I can’t get a guy to shower once a day, and you have this motherfucking rockstar wrapped around your finger.”

You liked Kamala because she swore a lot and could not be told a single thing. People tried. Debates in class were frequent and lively. But she annihilated them each and every time.

Kamala looked at Eddie and narrowed her eyes. “Hi,”

“Hi?”

“Do you have any hot friends?”

You snorted. Dustin called Eddie every other day. If it wasn’t him, it was Gareth with DM questions or Jeff bitching about frat parties.

“I’m one of a kind,” Eddie replied, full charm. You rolled your eyes.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kamala sighed, falling back into her seat, finishing her spit coffee.

After the lecture, Eddie hung around for a couple of hours while you worked in the library. He had his own notebook with him, still writing songs and poems, and wrestling with the idea of starting a new band. “Feels like cheating, you know?” is what he’d say whenever you talked about it. Corroded Coffin were hours apart but still so alive in all four of their hearts.

Eddie kissed you goodbye and caught the train back to the city for his shift at Eve’s bar. He had proven to be an adequate bartender, but that isn’t where he showed his worth. Eddie convinced one random guy he met in a music store to play at Eve’s. The band brought in a few extra people, a few more beers sold. He did it again. And again. After only a month there, Eve paid Eddie extra to double as the bar’s booking agent. By the end of the second month, she agreed to renovating the stage and clearing out one of the hardly used storeroom to turn into a greenroom.

You cleared your week’s reading requirements and had a basic skeleton for your next essay. By 4:00 pm, you felt on top of everything and wandered back through the library and headed out to find coffee. The air outside was bitter, the days averaging only 36°F (2°C), as you hurried along.

“Hey, honey. The usual?” Kasey asked, your favourite barista in your favourite on campus café. You liked that her name was Kasey; it made you think about the one you’d left behind in Starcourt 2.0. Build-a-Bear Kasey. Her nimble hands stitching together your beloved teddies. Maybe you’d always have a Kasey, somewhere in the periphery of your life.

“Yes, please,”

“Kam was in here before. Said she met the Eddie,”

“She did,”

“She said he was really hot,”

“Yeah. She asked if he had any friends.”

Kasey laughed. “Of course, she did.”

Kasey was easy to talk to, and even once she handed you your matcha latte, you hung around a little while longer.

On the train back to the city, you savoured the grassiness of the latte. Nobody in Hawkins was drinking matcha. Well, Esther’s parents might have been. They’d always been trendy, like their daughter. You missed Esther, but she was due to visit at the end of the term. She’d promised to show you all the secret spots in the city that you could only know by growing up there.

You swapped trains, catching the L to get to Eve’s bar. It was between knock off and dinner time, so it was busy. When you walked in, Eve sauntered by with a tray of beers.

“Hey, babe. He’s just gone on break,”

“Thanks, Eve.”

Rounding the bar and smiling at the new guy, you went through to the back and announced your arrival with a knock on the break room door. Eddie was inside the room, stretched out on the couch that had decades of questionable stains.

“Angel,” he greeted, opening his arms wide.

You dumped your bag on the table and flopped down onto him. He kissed your face all over.

“How’s work?” you asked him.

“The usual. Managed to get a hold of Neko over at The Hideout. Says he’ll throw me some scraps,”

“That’s good right? Even their rejects are better than other places’ headliners?” You were just parroting back what Eddie had told you about the place, but it showed Eddie you were listening and you understood.

“Yep. See how it goes. Eve seems impressed that he took my call, so there’s that. What about you?”

“Finished my readings early,”

“Cool. Maybe we can do something this weekend then?”

“Do you mean like, go out or like, order pizza and paint the roof?” you asked.

“I don’t know what it says about me, but honestly both sound kind of fun,” Eddie admitted, happy boyish smile. You stayed cuddled together for a minute more, then he asked, “So… I like Kamala.”

You laughed. “She told Kasey about you,”

“Kasey is… coffee friend?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughed. “If only the Hawkins High basketball team could see me now,”

“Fighting babes off,”

“Should we write to Jason Carver?”

“I think we have to,” you replied, looking up at him grinning. “Anyway. You hungry? I brought dinner.” Eddie let you up so you could go to your bag and pull out two frozen microwave meals. “Stopped at the place on the corner. You want the chicken or the beef?”

It was incredibly unglamorous, sitting in a dingy room eating two dollar microwave meals. It wasn’t what happened in the romance novels you sometimes read for escapism. It didn’t feel cool or grunge or metal. It just felt like life.

When you were in Senior year, you had thought to yourself that the weekends were where the glory was. You remembered that exact phrasing. Playing footsy under the table, you looked over at Eddie. It was this, this average weeknight of your new normal life, that’s where the glory really was.

Glory in the healing. In the trust and future plans and to do lists. Glory in the quiet. In the fresh paint and fire escape joints and having a warm cup of tea waiting for Eddie when he got home. Glory in the love. In the sex as snow fell and phone calls home to Wayne and in semi-precious stones. Glory in every single day you spent with Eddie Munson.

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana @mrsdollardog @tayhar811 @chickennug90 @b-irock @nana90azevedo @eddiemunson95 @akiratoro420

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24 @mel-the-fangirl

[m1stym0on]

doing all the days at once, below the cut *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

1. 5’7 , cw 111 , lw 94 , hw 180

2. sometimes i wish i was shorter but i do kinda like my height a lot too

3. i’ll make a separate post w my fav th1nsp0 atm

4. i’m not sure i have any ‘greatest fears’ about weightloss, i do get kind of scared that i’ll have to be hospitalised one day though just because of what my family would think

5. i want to lose weight because i always feel like i have to, i feel better about myself when i’m losing. it’s not about looks.

6. i do binge A LOT, my binges used to be between 4-8k cals but i’ve managed to bring them down to always under 4k. i binge when i feel ‘out of control’ wether that’s through emotions or because i overate my c@ls slightly. i hate it smmmmm

7. my parents can tell when i’m not eating, but i live alone so all they can do is buy me food.

8. i don’t ever workout really, i never have any energy. BUT i do try to get in 5k steps and 100 sit ups everyday :)

9. i was pretty chunky growing up so i did used to get a few comments, none were meant as insults though. since being skinny i just get positive comments about my weight and body

10. the hardest thing to give up is takeaways and going out drinking, the c@ls are just way too uncountable for me and i could work around it but it makes me SO ANXIOUS

11. n/a

12. i really love oatmeal, and yoghurt w granola and berries. i typically eat breakfast or protein bars or chocolate as well

13. i’m on 3dblr what do you think

14. my ugw is either 95/100lbs or whenever i decide i’m sick enough to recover (never)

15. i’m not either but i do sometimes like vegan/vegetarian alternatives to dairy or meat and i would definitely consider going vegetarian or vegan for a short amount of time - like maybe a few months?

16. i first decided to lose weight in december 2020, i was around 180lbs and immediately started a 1200cal diet that never ended

17. i’m not sure if i have an ed, if i do it’s probably ednos because i kind of have symptoms of a few different diagnoses

18. biscuits and cookies always get me man nothing else makes me lose control like that. gimme a pack of marylands and it’s over.

19. i ate fast food a few weeks ago, i don’t cut out ‘bad foods’ i just incorporate them into my c@ls

20. i don’t have any fav diet but i do love @honeysugarfree and all their posts <3

21. i’m a uk 6 or xs in tops and a uk 8 / s in bottoms :)

22. my lowest weight was i think 94, not sure because i stopped caring about the sc@le. i only gained because my auntie saw me at christmas for the first time in a while and then contacted my family about my ‘worrying appearance’. my dad ended up taking me to the doctors and i was put on a m3al plan, so forced r3c0very

23. no it’s not about the media, l0sing weight for me is all about how it feels on my body and comparing myself to people in real life, or that’s how it started anyways

24. i know the original terms meant community and pro acceptance but since now they have such stigma i’m not sure how i feel about them

25. i do struggle with p.rg1ng a few times a week but i’m trying to stop. i don’t actually remember the first real time but i do remember my ex bf teaching me how to thr0w up when i felt sick from drinking ??

26. i just want to feel valid in my eating problems, so i guess that’s what i want out of my ugw this time. but i’m also of course excited to feel fragile, delicate emo girl fr

27. i usually just have to distract myself if i’m around food like with gum or remind myself about my goals over and over in my head, i do find it pretty hard to be honest

28. i do really really want that th1gh g4p but i am kinda nervy about my short shorts and mini skirt not looking slut / tight anymore when i go out (dumb maybe)

29. honestly my definition of beauty is femininity

30. 10 facts! i do fine art at uni, i’m 19, i live alone, i have 2 little kitty cats, my fav colour is bluey purple. my fav flowers are chrysanthemums, peonies, hydrangeas. fav foods are fish and chips, pasta, COOKIES and biscuits, ramen (all so h1gh c4l i could die). alr that’s enough facts i can’t think of anymore my brain’s fried to pieces

okayy i just wanted to answer all these at once because i was bored, ily if u read it all ♥

[santoschristos]

"TO THE SERVICE OF LIGHT"

( by Alfredo Di Prince )

Second Part

"Many of them in past lives were martyred and wiped out with fire from the fires of the religious Inquisition." Others have given Life, and these Brothers and Sisters were great seekers of Truth: Herbalists, Midwives, Nature Lovers, Templars, Cathars, Beginner Teachers, etc... present in all times as bearers of Light and are always those who come and go and have turned their backs on the Light to return more times to help Human Brothers advance on the Evolutionary Scale to Infinity..

These Brothers recognize themselves among themselves, work absolutely free of any pecuniary remuneration and in Silence, carrying out their own Missions of Love and Light., to make the Great Plan fulfilled, so that "Celestial Jerusalem" descends upon our Planet and Light reigns absolutely forever and ever Amen.

But a warning is necessary, to all who seek a Way to be able to awaken from the lethargy imposed by the Consciousness itself.

We are aware and the Master had said it: that in these Times of Change they would take advantage of to prevent with these Spiritual Arguments getting paid "The Service: and sometimes very saladily. Those poor victims of these chatterboxes, believing they are really in the Truth, get to be poer than before.

Brothers in Service do it for Love

in the name of Light and Truth, being aware of being only a Channel, a means to manifest some Truths and help the neighbor who needs it. There is no need for a Headquarters, no Organization, let alone a large group. He usually performs alone or in small groups and the meeting places are mostly outdoors.

Casa Del Padre has many rooms and any place is good. All Universes are "THE FATHER'S HOUSE" therefore Divinity can be found anywhere where a Heart filled with Love reigns.

The Science of the Heart is not taught, there are no courses, and no one can teach it to you Only a True Master can show them the Way and only this, can Transmit Knowledge when the Disciple is ready, the Master will appear...!

There is no use asking, fasting, being vegan, praying to dead saints, meditating, or reciting Mantrams, it can only give satisfaction and health, but they do not believe they are in Nirvana or touched the Seventh Heaven. with one hand. Whoever humbles himself will be exalted, and whoever exalts himself will be humbled..!

There are also some who believe to be Jesus Christ in person,

believe to have the mission to suffer like crazy to save humanity, provoke beautiful stigmas in the hands and feet suffer and believe to be special beings, on the other hand they are true masochists..! They exhibit themselves as a circus phenomenon attracting poor gullible people.

There are also creators of sects, pastors and guides who believe they are authorized by God in person, instead they do it because it is a round business and they live on the backs of poor people who seek refreshment for their burning souls.

To be continued

M. KUTHUMA FROM ERKS WITH LOVE AND LIGHT. .!

**********************************************

Art design and Text by Alfredo Di Prinzio

[zillanovikov]

Cooking with the Big Sad

Most advice for dealing with depression makes depressed people feel worse.

Fish oil supplements, running, and meditation help some people. Maybe they even help you. But for the rest of us, they deliver a simple message. Your depression is your own damn fault because of your bad lifestyle. If you ate better, exercised more, and changed your negative attitude, you wouldn't have this problem. 

If you, like we did, look online for depression-friendly recipes, you will find almond-crusted barramundi and walnut-crusted maple salmon, promising Omega-3s to fight brain fog and B vitamins to boost mood. If you happen to be an inland-dwelling vegan, such personal lifestyle tweaks are inaccessible to the point of satire. This is a feature, not a bug. The thing these recipes have in common is that the cost of ingredients, difficulty of preparation, and incompatibility with numerous dietary restrictions mean they are inaccessible to most mentally ill people. If only you would do this, they promise, and then it becomes your fault because you do not, and so you must not really want to be well.

If capitalism is driving your employer to exploit you and the rich to destroy the planet, the solution is not to do Pilates about it. No amount of chia seeds are going to fix how you feel. You need some empathy and some survival strategies. Surviving means you have to eat, even if you don't want to, even if there's no food in the world worth the effort of lifting a spoon to your mouth. 

Many of us also have stigmas and taboos when it comes to food. Maybe someone has told you to avoid “bad” foods, or questioned if you really needed a second cookie. Maybe for you, the concept of eating is complicated by feelings of guilt or shame. But judgment doesn’t help. It’s better to eat than not, and we are not the sum of our worst days.

My depression is not my fault. My brain chemistry is fucked and I need medication to function. I tried lifestyle changes for years, delaying as long as I could before I acknowledged what felt like a moral failing. Before I accepted my inability to will myself cured. Diet advice gave me one more thing to try before taking that step. But crushed flax seeds weren't what I needed. What I needed was a hug, and guidance to get through day by day until I was ready to admit my truth.

Depression cooking for me is low-effort, cheap, easy foods, with minimal ingredients that I probably already have in the house. It’s carb- and spice-heavy. It’s eating popcorn out of a bag or boiling instant noodles. It’s food that’s tasty enough to be appealing even when the thought of eating seems exhausting.

Of course, this isn’t the same for everyone! Some people have to avoid carbs or gluten, others find high levels of spice challenging at the best of times. Contrary to the advice you’ll find online and in diet books, there's no silver bullet for our problems, individually or societally. But we can do our best to make things better for each other as a community. 

Collective change starts at a local level, and for us, dealing with the social problem of depression begins with acts of mutual aid. Whether it’s reminding folks that they’re not alone or sharing the coping strategies that have worked for us and our friends, we’re here with each other as we battle not just the Big Sad, but the environmental, political, and economic context that enables it at its worst.

--------------------------------

I wrote a rant (see above) but I also—with my community—wrote a cookbook to share our coping strategies. The Sad Bastard Cookbook is funny, realistic, and kind. Also the e-book is free. We gotcha.

[cyanomys]

Recovering from almost having to go to the er for a blockage last night. I just wish I actually knew why I have these lifelong issues with constipation.

And every time I think l'm in remission sort of I have a horrible episode. Every time I make a lifestyle change that I think has solved it, it returns. I have missed out on so much of life from dealing with this.

I feel like there's not even any point in doing more tests about it because there's nothing to diagnose me with. I went through the misery of a barium swallow and all they did was say “huh….you don’t seem to maintain peristalsis normally….sorry about that” and didn’t even give me a real diagnosis of slow transit constipation or IBSc until I later begged a doctor to put something in my records.

They just don’t fucking care. They just tell me to eat more fiber when I try to tell them that too much makes it worse. I’ve been this way since I was A TODDLER. When I was a child they told me it was anxiety (as if I, a child, could fix that), or scolded me for not using the toilet enough (???) and said I would grow out of it. Now that I’m an adult it’s my fault because I must not eat enough fiber (I’m fucking vegan), or I must not exercise enough (I walk or do yoga every day), or I must need to meditate about it (I work constantly on my anxiety every day).

Some people with slow transit constipation have to get fucking colectomies and we STILL DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT IT

It's the equivalent to being like "wow your arm hurts so bad and is so nonfunctional that we have to amputate it, but we can't be fucked to do research as to why this happens to people." Also “you know it's probably your fault anyway"

Constipation stigma is not only attached to unhealthy and obese people but also to drug addicts. I think that’s why the medical system leaves us behind. We’re constipated so we must be less than human like all the other people they ignore.

[daffodilhorizon]

logging onto facebook and seeing memories and seeing my carnist friends being 1000% more supportive and engaging to me before i was vegan lmao. like literally 20 comments per post and now i get like 2 likes from my vegan friends (on posts not even related to veganism too) like the vegan stigma is actually unreal how much people fucking hate being challenged over their murder treats

[mirandamckenni1]

Sex & Squirting Breast Milk, With Alice Lovegood - LustCast Ep 44 Please consider supporting my channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEKteOSLNpSoCNvYUILZfBQ/join Today's episode is all about a topic you've probably never thought of: Lactation! We're talking breast milk, adult breastfeeding, and everything in between. If you've ever been curious about the irresistible pull of mum milk, this is the episode for you. 🥛 What's the deal with adult men craving breast milk? 🥛 Can titty milk really be a turn-on? 🥛 Why is breastfeeding sexualised? 🥛 Why is drinking cow milk ok but human milk weird? 🥛 Can men produce breast milk? We dive deep into all this with our awesome guest, Alice Lovegood, who spills all the creamy details. Follow Me & Say Hello: Instagram - https://ift.tt/f4GQrlK Twitter - https://mobile.twitter.com/getlustcast Apple, Spotify, etc - https://ift.tt/phwbneK Alice's YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt4P_1emTrhTKxcfxx7Dhvw Alice's Instagram - https://ift.tt/gdXSKZt Timestamps: 00:00 - Introduction 01:14 - How popular is the lactation fetish 03:16 - Public breastfeeding 05:15 - Kink vs fetish 09:32 - Different breast milk kinks 13:44 - Breast milk and where it comes from 16:23 - Why Alice likes breast milk in bed 20:11 - Why men get a lactation kink 22:34 - Buying breast milk online 27:26 - Cooking with breast milk and megaboob 30:09 - Mothers not seen as sexual 33:33 - What's a breast pump? 34:30 - Men can make breast milk!!! 38:00 - Drinking human breast milk 41:31 - Sexualising breastfeeding 44:13 - Is there a dark side of the kink? 48:43 - Struggling with negative feelings 53:37 - Stigma & shame 58:57 - How much can you squirt? 01:00:46 - Squirting milk at vegans!!! 01:04:56 - Breast milk in bed #lactation #breastfeeding #breastmilk #breastfeedingfacts #Alicelovegood #lustcast #dating #relationships #breeding #adulting via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z47R8-kPcpw