reminder that AROMANTICS AND ASEXUALS are part of the queer community. yes, this includes the ones that are straight, cis, both cis and straight, etc. if you think otherwise, keep crying! we do not care! reblog to piss an exclusionist off.
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TommyInnit Drabble: Map of the Body (Map of the Heart)
Tommy’s body told more of a story than his words ever could.
The y-shaped scar that spanned from his shoulders to his navel, his lack of a belly button, and the tattoo that adjourned the nape of his neck like a brand— T-0M3 1-NN-1T— told of the laboratory where he was created in. His wings, black as ebony, and his bleach-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes were pale echoes of the unwitting DNA donor he was the clone of.
The scars that weren’t from the laboratory— like the burn marks from TNT and the slashes from axes and pierces from arrows— added to his story; the one that haunted his mid-to-late teen years. His fingers were calloused and his nails a permanent state of discoloration from bruising grips and working them to the bone. Bony arms and flesh that was pulled taut around his ribs spoke of starvation— starvation from food. Starvation of love; compassion.
His prosthetic right leg, which was cut right below the knee due to frostbite when he ran away from exile and to his older brother’s cabin in the tundra in nothing but bare feet, shorts, his baseball t-shirt, and the green bandana his best friend had given him once upon a time, said that he was persevering. That he didn’t give up. Nothing could stop Tommy Danger Kracken Innit— not even death if the white streak that painted the front of his hair had anything to say about it.
Sometimes Tommy did wish that he could stop; that he could just sit on that bench with his best friend and listen to the gentle notes from a strummed acoustic guitar and an even gentler, breathy voice singing words more soothing than a lullaby. He wished that he could braid his brother’s hair and preen his father’s wings again.
Tommy’s body told more of a story than his words ever could— not because of a lack of words, no. It was because of a lack of people who’d listen to him.
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guys if i posted something twice no i didnt um i cant see off anything posted
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if anyone has that post that's like. "person clearly winning the fight but sobbing vs person clearly losing but shit talking" and shared it with me i would love you forever mwah
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wrote you a goodbye note (you just wrote me off) on your arm when you passed out. best friends, exfriends- better off as lovers and not the other way around. racing through the city in the back of yellow checkered cars. the takeoffs are the worst but the skin from your shoulder to your ear makes it all worth it. and im sorry the way my moods flicker on and off like old light on your porch, but i know you wouldn't have it any other way. sneaking in your window instead of out. the way you hold your cigarette cause you don't know what to do with your hands when we are sitting this close. the way waists of pants feel better at the ankles. the way you were always my best excuse for calling in sick on everyone else.
i miss you.
petey
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I would - Herschel
Peter:
Oh- hi Herschel, I didn't expect you to find this.
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the old guard (2020)
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i am once again self shipping with gary
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HHHHHHHHHH
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i found this and i’m having a fucking stroke
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Puppy love is really quite adorable.
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i hate being autistic. i hate it so much. i am so hungry but because my mom made something i dont like the texture or taste of i would rather starve. i hate this. and of course, when i say i want to eat something else i get told im "ungrateful" and that i dont appreciate her hard work. why am i so weird. why cant i be normal.
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i lost my best friend
i lost my best friend.
she’s— she’s not dead.
but i’ve lost her in the way
that we only talk
on birthdays.
movies and books
only portray the kinds of
lost friendships where
there was a huge betrayal.
they don’t tell of the kind where
it’s the expo marker losing its
gloss after being left out to dry.
they don’t tell of the
slowly sinking ship.
they don’t tell of the
fact that there weren’t enough
lifeboats for the two of you.
one of you were left on the
sinking ship.
it wasn’t malicious when she left you
she just didn’t realize how important
that ship was to you.
she just saw it as one of many
that she’d be on in her life.
they don’t tell of the
friendship that rots away like
decaying flesh from the bone.
they don’t tell you that the secrets
you shared beneath the stars or in
her furnace of a room in the late
hours of the night would be
locked in a little box you’d never
share with anyone else—
you didn’t want that little box
to lose its magic; to lose your half
of the little friendship locket.
by misplacing it.
(but you know she did.)
i lost my best friend.
she’s not dead.
but i lost her in the way
that i still carry our secrets
in that tiny little box hidden in
the corner of my heart,
and we only text each other
on our birthdays.
(inspired by ritka jyala’s post)
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hey guys. how would the south parkies feel if we made a mandela catalogue south park au?
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(free) grammarly: says smth about the plural connectors or some shit. sounds very scholarly.
me: okay ig i was wrong(?)
google docs: are you a fucking idiot. the word is door not doors you fucking buffoon. you baboon. i’m going to fuck your mother while you watch.
me: *changes it back to door*
grammarly, immediately: did you not listen the first time? was it funny to watch me put a red underline underneath your plebian mistake? huh? was it?
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Amazing new mexico sunset. I'm hanging on a bridge with my friend mikey way from my chem. Its all pink and orange above us. We went to another waterpark again. I love high fives again. Totally back in love. Saw the most amazing movie... I think its called spirited away. Watch it.
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