#({THEY KNOW})

[manic-sapphic]

i love the irony that actually "everyone" else just didn't want it that way. sorry tho. cause uh

she gay.

Saw this comment and it made me laugh

[emmster]

Can these cats just let the man sleep?

[rius-cave]

Ok Adam

[oscaricaas]

[detectivehoffmann]

[twinsunstars]

Ezra: *steps one foot onto Lothal's lands after returning*

Every single loth-cat on the planet: *awakened*

[skiplo-wave]

[the-lords-in-plaid46]

Don’t mine me, just putting Jon Matteson on a pedestal and offering a can of soup.

[zerodaytesttape]

TW!!!! Talk of SH and EDs!!!!

MORE ZERO DAY WRITINGS!! about cal!!! And his parents!!!!! And Caldre!!!!!!!! WOWW!!!!!!!

Calvin Gabriel is 17 years old, scars are everywhere. his arms, his thighs, his waist. His parents know. His little brother and sister know. They’re still kids, only 9 and 10, but they understand more than anyone gives them credit for. They found him when he was 15, lying in the bathtub, blood pooling around him, mixing with the water, dripping on the time, wrists slit open, his eyes half-lidded with a stupid fucking smirk on his mouth. They stopped the bleeding, they panicked, they saved his life, but it didn’t really change anything. His parents watch him now, from a distance, as if they’re hoping something will shift on its own. They notice the bandages that weren’t there the night before, the new scars that crisscross his body, the way his ribs jut out when they go to the pool. But they don’t say anything. They’ve stopped trying to fix him. They let him walk this path alone because they’ve convinced themselves they can’t pull him back.

In the mornings, he drags himself downstairs, cloudy-eyed, hair a mess, a baggy T-shirt that hangs off his thin shoulders and pajama pants that barely stay on his hips. He barely acknowledges his family, staring into nothing as he sits down at the table. There’s a bandage taped to his forearm. It's new, it's horribly put together. He's messy, he doesn't care, he's given up, his brain unthreading itself. His mom notices it but keeps her eyes on the plate she’s setting in front of him with a soft smile, her boy doesn't even give her a glance. They watch him eat, every bite, clinging to some flicker of hope that maybe today things will be different. But after breakfast, he heads straight to the bathroom. Not because he wants to be thinner, but because the food feels wrong inside him. It makes his skin crawl, fills him with a greasy, heavy disgust that he can’t stand. He feels like a garbage can.

When his siblings go back upstairs, his parents stand in the kitchen, holding each other softly, quietly. They don’t talk about it anymore. They’ve accepted that their son is drowning, and they can’t reach him. Cal doesn’t even realize he’s sinking. To him, he’s just swimming.

At family gatherings, Cal and Andre are always together, inseparable. Cal’s laughter rings out, not at the conversation happening around them, but at something that only he and Andre understand. Andre giggles too, sitting in the chair beside him, both of them locked in their own world. Cal’s parents notice the way they look at each other, how the air between them feels thick with a secret they refuse to share with anyone else.

At some point, they disappear together, always running off to “grab something from the car” or “take a walk.” When they return, Cal is red-eyed and messy, his shirt now backwards and inside-out, a faint trail of THC clinging to him. Andre, on the other hand, comes back composed.. too composed, more perfectly out together than before. His collar is slightly askew, his shirt sleeves rolled up where they weren’t before. His face is flushed, like he’s trying to hide something but not quite succeeding. The hoodie that had hung on his shoulders when they left now missing. They two boys don't even come back with anything that they wanted to 'grab from the car'.

Cal’s parents exchange a knowing glance. They see the way Andre’s eyes dart to Cal, the way Cal’s lips are just a little swollen, the way both boys share that quiet look. Cal’s scent still lingers with weed, and his fingers play with the hem of his shirt as he sits back down. Andre’s too put-together look, the flush in his cheeks. They know. They know exactly what’s been going on. But they don’t say anything. They never do. Cal and Andre have been side-by-side since the sixth grade, ever since Andre moved from Germany. He didn’t know anyone, couldn’t speak the language well, and felt completely isolated in a world that didn’t make sense. Cal was the first one to reach out, the ‘weird’ kid who everyone else avoided, but somehow, the two of them fit together like puzzle pieces. Cal went to go bother a quiet Andre at a small table. They became inseparable. Alone together, never apart.

Cal’s parents noticed the shift immediately, every single time they are together. They saw the way Cal’s entire demeanor would change when Andre was around. The dullness in his eyes, his demeanor, it all seemed to lift when Andre was beside him. There was something different between the two boys, something more than just friendship. His parents could feel it, even if Cal didn’t put words to it. They saw how Cal would glance at Andre when he thought no one was watching, the small smiles that barely tugged at the corners of Andre's mouth even though he wasn't one to smile much. They didn’t ask questions, but deep down, they always wondered if the bond between their son and Andre went beyond what either of them would admit.

But despite Andre being there for their son, the new scars are there, clear as day, on their firstborn’s pale skin, they feel sick. But those scars? Those scars are nothing. They have no idea what’s coming. They don’t know that soon enough, those scars won’t even matter. Those raised deep messy scars won’t compare to the gaping bullet hole that’ll be in their boy’s head. They have no idea what’s coming, they will never know until it's too late. They won't know until they see the news. They hear the terror, they see the horror, they know exactly whose doing it. Then? Then, they'll know.

[classycookiexo]

[ash-eats-film]

I will never get over the fact that I stared Bruce Abbott and Jeffrey Combs in the eye and held a short conversation with them. And then when asked about their relationship at a Q&A during the making of ReAnimator, they moved like they were going to make out on stage and the audience (I’m sure FULL of Danbert fans) SCREAMED.

These are two grown men in their 70s and they KNOW.

They know about the ship guys SHUT IT DOWN IT’S GETTING META

Also Jeff swears like a sailor and I love it. Oh and when I got my copy of bride signed, I hadn’t noticed Bruce’s signature had smudged, but JEFF DID when he signed it. He literally walked over to the booth next to him where Bruce was and said “look what you fucked up, fix this for him”

I literally almost cried the way he SMACKED him with it and Bruce just said “I BET IT WAS YOUR FAULT FUCKER”

And then he fixed it and talked with me for a few more minutes about how he loves that they kept in touch after they finished making the movie and would literally go to baseball games together and hang out when they still lived close by THEY’RE TOO MUCH

[stonedstargazer666]

Let’s keep the picture train going here

Credits to original owners ofc

[dinersaturn]

[f1-ferraero]

Not the strategy alphabet😭

[butraura]

I could be remembering wrong but I think it’s so telling that they’ve never referred to Buck as Chris’ “Uncle Buck”. Like it’s perfectly common for a close family friend to be called “uncle” or “aunt” in context of a kid because the parents consider that person family.

And it’s also evident and canon that Eddie and Chris consider Buck family (“there’s no one in the world I trust with my son more than you”, “if I die, you become Christopher’s legal guardian”, “he’s hanging out with his Buck today!”, “he was looking for Buck”, Chris calling Buck when worried about Eddie, Chris running away to Buck’s when upset with Eddie, Buck promising Chris he’ll always have him no matter what, Buck taking Chris on adventures an trips all the time, “Buck, can I spend Christmas with you?”, “Buck, can we go to your house and play video games?”, etc. etc. etc. ETC.).

So it’s crazy, insane, ridiculous, interesting that Chris and Eddie never even once refer to Buck as “Uncle Buck”, when it would work so seamlessly and would help further the narrative they’re desperately trying to push with Buck and Eddie being best friends/brothers.

The fact is, Buck is not an uncle figure to Chris. He’s not even just a friend. He’s a father that would move heaven and earth for his son. And calling it anything else would be a disservice to the relationship they’ve cultivated between Chris and Buck.

But it would be so easy. And the fact that they haven’t done that speaks volumes to me.