Been SICK to my stomach with gay thoughts I don't think I'm gonna make it
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I made myself feel bad again for existing ���
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guys im freaking out /lh im thinking about someone that isnt steven or red wtf do i do!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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@themckaytriarchy asked;
“No, I know why you worry about people finding out." Tess flexes her own hand with an unpleasant crackle of bone and joints, pain spasming across her face as her own hand twists into something clawed and chitinous. "Believe me." She studies him through the gaps between her armored fingers. "But you're not a monster, Miguel. You're just a man. One who operates a little differently than he used to." [customized/paraphrased/combined from the inhuman meme]
Her words reach him from a distance, in spite of their close proximity, firm truths that arose from a unique place of understanding. In not great shape to begin with, when Tess stopped by to pay a visit, he had remained remarkably quiet, the upper set of his fangs putting in an unwanted appearance by protruding over his bottom lip, too tired to hide them. To conceal any of the aspects that gradually grew in strength and influence the more he tried to reject them.
"Some would probably disagree." As weary in expression as he was in tone, he had refrained from using any manner of voice that'd draw attention, summon forth the legions of Spider-folk that had looked to him for guidance, caught up in the choppy seas of the multiverse and its ever unfolding span. In turn, noise had proven crucial, a new plea for distance muttered weakly beneath a drawing of breathe as he stepped forward, the lowering of his head accentuating the curving breadth of his back.
"But yeah... That's putting it mildly." His protest came across as subdued, unable to stop himself from flinching at the panned term his mind had become fixated upon. Perhaps that had been his issue all along, acting like a creature that had clung desperately to the paltry efforts of a man who still believed he could effect goodness in such an unkind world; when he was neither good nor much of a man anymore.
To that extent, crimson hues track the manifestation of armoured claws, gaze as hard as glass despite its shorn edges. Here he was again, in real time, building up a feigned front, but again the effort flops and flails, a use of time and energy wasted against someone he had already come to know for her stubbornness alone.
"No matter what I'm called, it's all the same to me." Still burdened by self-imposed responsibilities, prioritising them over genuine concerns levelled towards his physical condition. "I play by my own set of rules."
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the crippling selfconsciousness about my appearance is seeping back 🫠
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taking a nap did go to plan because i cant sleep in the day so i had to go get my enemy (fizzy energy drink) at the shop
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eughhhh i feel so gross and weird
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I wanted to watch soul eater but I hate fan service so muchhhhhh…
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