"I See Hcs And Ideas Everyone Else Posts And I Can't Compare" You Can
"I see hcs and ideas everyone else posts and I can't compare" you can <3 I love your posts and headcanons ur arguably the best zero day account on tumblr ever. Even if you hate it, just know there is atleast one person out there that loves you and your account /p
oh my god anon i love you. i feel like i gripe a bit too much on this account since it’s not really a personal blog but having this support really helps. your words are helping change my night :((( i love you and your account too (even though i can’t see your identity, i know i have love in my heart for you)
-
technobrain liked this · 1 year ago
-
personapilled liked this · 1 year ago
-
suckmycolumboner liked this · 1 year ago
-
typebloom liked this · 1 year ago
-
bannyyz liked this · 1 year ago
-
bo0bs2 liked this · 1 year ago
-
fratrifags liked this · 1 year ago
-
violentcal liked this · 1 year ago
-
rebv-0-dka liked this · 1 year ago
-
rodricks-violence liked this · 1 year ago
-
ritualrampage liked this · 1 year ago
-
queenmimi2004 liked this · 1 year ago
-
lubtubby liked this · 1 year ago
-
caseyqz liked this · 1 year ago
-
action-index liked this · 1 year ago
-
yourehallucinating1 liked this · 1 year ago
More Posts from Operationandre
Ur my favorite person on this app currently đź’Żđź’Ż
anon i will kiss you on the forehead HELLOOOOO 🙏🙏🙏🙏
i know this is going to sound like a broken record, but i have to say it.
thank you guys for interacting with my posts and becoming friends with me and making me smile. i’ve been struggling recently, and getting on this app and being in this community has been a safe haven for me. i hope you guys know how much you mean to me, even if we’ve never interacted or spoken to one another. thank you endlessly.
pop music plays on the speakers in the kriegman basement, quiet due to cal constantly turning them down. andre’s on the floor doing push-ups and following a workout routine his coach assigned him for track. he’s on number 23 and counting out loud until he gets to 40.
he glances up to see cal sprawled out on an old couch in the corner of the room with a book from english class in front of his face. he’s not reading, though. he’s peaking up over the book, staring at andre.
“you want to join me?” andre asks, startling cal out of his stupor.
cal hums in response; he thinks andre is joking. the older boy suddenly stands up and walks toward cal with outstretched arms. “c’mere.”
“i’m not doing fucking push-ups,” cal snaps. he is dead serious, but he’s still putting down his book and standing up.
“you don’t have to, dumbass. you’ll be my weight.” andre gives cal a toothy smile. when he spots the confusion on cal’s face, he clarifies what he means. “look, i have about 20 more push-ups to go. you sit on my back while i do them. the more weight, the more of a workout i get. it’s simple.”
that’s how cal finds himself sitting sideways on andre’s back while andre swears and grunts until he gets to 40. cal quickly gets off his friend’s back, at least before andre collapses onto the ground.
“dumb idea on my part. we’re never doing that again.”
trans andre doing his first t shot.
he’s sixteen years old standing in his childhood bathroom. there are still accents of pink on the walls despite the efforts the kriegmans went through to change most things in order to make andre more comfortable. his mom is holding his hand to stop his from shaking, but her hand is even worse than his. his dad is at work. andre had requested he not be there for this moment.
andre had always been scared of needles, almost fainting every time he had to get blood work done. (he had passed out more than a few times, but he would never tell anyone that.) cal had tried to give him a stick and poke at one point, causing andre to leave the room and almost hyperventilate. this time, though, it’s different. there’s nothing being taken away from him; he’s being given something. he’s being given a chance at a new life, at a happier life.
he decides to not count down, wanting his mother to simply prick him whenever she’s ready. the anxiety is the worst part, even worse than him having to stand in his boxers while his mom wipes down his thigh with an antiseptic towel. he’s lost in his head when he feels the needle enter his skin.
it’s bad for about five seconds and then he’s covered with a bandaid. his mom announces that he’s officially one day on testosterone, and andre starts crying. his mother cradles him in her arms, knowing that her precious boy is near her heart just like he always has been.
imagine if andre and cal got away…
andre would be driving to the border with cal in the passenger seat. they’d be relaxed, even though they’re actively being hunted down. music plays over the radio because they’re tired of the same cds they have.
the song they’re listening to ends and two voices erupt from the station. they’re soft and laced with german accents. they’re begging for andre to come home, to turn himself in. the car screeches to a stop.
cal moves to turn down the radio, to do anything to get rid of the noise, but it’s too late. andre is out of the car, running to the side of the road. he falls to his knees in the grass and starts dry heaving and sobbing.
neither andre nor cal feel bad about what they’ve done, but realizing they’ll never hear their parents’ voices again kills them. in the short time andre heard his parents voices, his mind had flashed through memories—soft good mornings and good nights, cheers while he opens presents on his birthday, and the powerful words “i love you.”