in terms of how pretty i am, i am very pretty

Razor Ramon vs. Shawn Michaels | Ladder match for the WWF Intercontinental Championship SummerSlam August 27, 1995

sorry for being a hater. it will happen again

@mainevcnt​ asked: 🙊💬 + hbk (♥️ you!!!)

SEND 🙊💬 + A NAME, AND MY MUSE WILL SHARE THEIR TRUE, UNFILTERED OPINION OF THAT PERSON! NO SUGARCOATING!

It was considered logical, expected even, that after so many years the honeymoon phase would dissolve, vanish into nothing. Was once there but no more, divorce rates incredible while unhappiness lingered a close second place. Many had figured that Bret’s judgments would’ve done the very same. Faltered, teetered into the holes of regret, forgiveness too difficult to give over what had happened in the past. Even still, journalists and their writing pads had dared to ask him about it all. 20 questions that spanned his 22 year career; 35 years of knowing Shawn did good on bringing out the new aged technology too, tablets with specialized pen attachments. Applications that the Hitman couldn’t understand, wouldn’t no matter how thoroughly, earnestly, his son tried to explain. Online news was desperate to find that crack. WWE sponsored interviewers just searching for that weak spot in the apparently wonderful marriage - it wasn’t possible that the Heartbreak Kid and the Hitman could be so happy together. Their partnership of a decade plus some just too absurd even for them. An odd couple that proved perfect. 

But never could Bret help himself whenever in the presence of the man he loved. Scarred around the edges, just like he in many ways, lines to the corners of Shawn’s eyes and mouth. Older but just as pretty as the first time they met, the beauty mark to the cheek paired well with the lightened fuzz around the face, graying gold whiskers. Shawn was beautiful. Was still, interactions with the kids on the NXT program was enough to make Bret’s sometimes cynical heart flame. Caused the butterflies in his belly to begin their swarm - Shawn in the role of devoted father to their Little Owen was his favorite sight, however. Gave the former champion all the reason to forget what it meant to be nice, force his husband away with him and steal precious moments, lose himself in his love’s redolence. Bret couldn’t have asked for a better life. 

“Oh, Shawn? He’s a real jerk. Just about the meanest, nastiest guy I’ve ever met. Y’know, I heard he watched that sad movie about the dog, and he didn’t even shed a single tear. He’s downright despicable - I don’t know how he even has any friends around here. I heard he makes the NXT talent scrub the floors with toothbrushes. I feel bad for whoever he’s married to.”

Bret relaxed, softening the sterness of his features, that scowl that others had claimed to be void of emotion. Watched the crew as they worked inside the control room for NXT, eased his gentle jokes that one of the youngest members had been subjected to endure. A special visit.

“Shawn’s a great guy when he’s not being a brat. For all that he knows about getting underneath a person’s skin, a tease to no end, he’s just about the most generous human being I’ve ever known. He’s a man’s man and doesn’t let anybody get away with doing somebody else wrong. He’s the type of friend that I think everyone should have in their life. Even though he’s been the cause for my hair turning out the way that it has - I used to have dark hair - I couldn’t have asked for a better father to our son, a better husband, or a better competitor during my active career. I love him. I’ll always love him.“

What does it feel like to be lonely? It feels like being hungry: like being hungry when everyone around you is readying for a feast. It feels shameful and alarming, and over time these feelings radiate outwards, making the lonely person increasingly isolated, increasingly estranged. It hurts, in the way that feelings do, and it also has physical consequences that take place invisibly, inside the closed compartments of the body. It advances, is what I’m trying to say, cold as ice and clear as glass, enclosing and engulfing.

— Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone

*slowly removes my heart-shaped sunglasses* i beg your fucking pardon

princess sun, bitch moon, brat rising

Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels face-off promo

December 1996

FAQ