#ANDREW WHEN I CATCH YOU ANDREW

[lifemod17]

We as a society do not talk about Wasteland, Baby! on electric guitar enough!!!

[supermanddntdieforthis]

I have tears in my eyes, this is fine 🥲

[strawb3rrymilkrat]

These two lines of dialog have altered my brain chemistry

[playitprettygoaheadandpetmykitty]

THE DIFFERENCE IN THE LINE DELIVERY AND OVERALL VIBE BETWEEN THE PROSHOT AND THIS SLIME TUTORIAL HAS ME SCREAMING 😭😭

[wedielikemen]

And at the end of the day the rawest line isJean's "They all knew" vs Jeremy's "we all knew" because the people who should've protected them knew. The people who could've saved Noah knew. The ravens KNEW. They knew and they just called them wh*res and let Jean and Jeremy take all the blame anyway.

[river-of-wine]

There’s LESBIANS in the ocean

[avp23]

devastating parallel to Andrew putting his hand on the back of Neil’s neck to calm Neil down and bring him to the present.

this is the only physical touch that triggers Jeremy’s fight/flight/freeze in a way he cannot deny. not Faser strangling him but his brother putting a hand on the back of his neck.

[andy-clutterbuck]

2024 Winter TCA Portraits

[lifemod17]

And the day that we'll watch the death of the sun

That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on

Then you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs

Wasteland, baby!

I'm in love

I'm in love with you

All the fear and the fire

Of the end of the world

Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl

Happens great, happens sweet

Happily, I'm unfazed here, too

Wasteland, baby

I'm in love

I'm in love with you

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed

Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass

Like the bonfire that burns, that all words in the fight fell to

Wasteland, baby

I'm in love

I'm in love with you

And I love too

That love soon might end

Be known in it's aching

Shown in the shaking

Lately of my wasteland, baby

Be still, my indelible friend

You are unbreaking

Though quaking

Though crazy

That's just wasteland, baby

[lifemod17]

NOBODY ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

Hozier at Glastonbury festival 2023 you will always be famous to me!!!

[kingfluffkinss]

Andrew, at the ripe age of 17, wasn't allowed to work at the Eden's, but got a job at a gas station on the outskirts of Columbia. His shifts were usually filled with drunk drivers who staggered around the store and knocked over products while looking for booze, groups of teenagers who raided the snack isle with giggles and hurried steps, or self-important owners of flashy cars who regarded him and his register with contempt. In summary, Andrew was bored.

During one particularly hot evening, a boy walks into the store. His back is hunched and clad in a gray hoodie that almost reaches the boy's knees and seems to swallow him whole. His face is barely visible under the giant hood, but Andrew notices how the boy's eyes flit around the corners of the store. Corners that have cameras. After the quick inspection, the boy ducks his head, black curls falling over his eyes, and shuffles towards the electronics. Andrew has seen a lot of sketchy shit while working in that dingy shithole so another paranoid teenager doesn't pique his interest. Mentally clocking out, he goes back to moving the jars of strawberry jam around. It's not like anybody would buy jam in a gas station store.

The movement near the register catches his attention - the suspicious boy is standing next to it and eyeing the door like he's considering making a run for it. Andrew usually wouldn't care, but his boss promised to dock his pay if another theft happens during Andrew's shift. Sighing internally, Andrew slowly approaches the register and doesn't miss it when the boy pulls his sleeves down and over his knuckles. Two cheap prepaid phones are clutched in his hand. Andrew feels a tingle in his chest and oh, this is interesting. The boy thrusts the phones out, carefully keeping his knuckles covered. Andrew finds his ratty and shapeless hoodie deeply offensive, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he focuses on ringing the phones up while openly staring at the fidgety ball of fabric before him. He reminds Andrew of a rabbit, all he lacks are twitchy ears and stomping feet. Even with the guy's head bowed, Andrew spots dull green eyes and attractive cheekbones and he's sure of two things: firstly, Rabbit is fucking hot, and secondly, he's wearing contacts. None of these bode well for Andrew's attempted apathy. The boy avoids looking at Andrew, but the twitch of his mouth makes it obvious he knows he's being observed. He hands Andrew the money and waits with his palm up.

Andrew can't stand him, and he can't stand the curiosity that's biting at his heels. Wordlessly, he picks up the phones and instead of depositing them on the open palm, he moves his hand to the left and drops them. Two phones clutter as they hit the floor, and the sound rings like a gunshot in the quiet store. The boy startles visibly before scowling so fiercely that Andrew thinks the wrinkles on his forehead will never smooth out. As the boy bends down to collect his, somehow intact, purchase, a flash of purple catches Andrew off guard. Andrew knew Rabbit was hiding something under those gigantic sleeves, but somehow the blooming bruises around his wrists didn't make it on the list. Andrew's hand shoots out and catches the fabric near the elbow, successfully pulling the sleeve up and exposing an expanse of discolored bruises. Some seem fresh, a mesh of ugly red and purple, while the others seem days old and faded yellow. The hand is snatched away from Andrew's grasp as the boy hisses and jumps away, all the while pulling the sleeves over his hands once again.

The look he shoots at Andrew is venomous, but all Andrew can focus on is the glint of fear. Andrew has seen that look in Aaron's eyes after he found out about Tilda and her heavy-handed hobby of smacking Aaron around. His head is buzzing and his forearms burn where the armbands cover them.

"What the fuck is your problem?" the boy spits out while clutching his palms into fists at his side, back ramrod straight. And oh, how Andrew hates when cowards only find their spine to defend their abusers. He hates this guy, his murderous green eyes and most of all, his own protective streak. Andrew immediately snuffs it out and stomps on it for a good measure. This jumpy kid is not his problem.

"What is the name of your problem?" Andrew blurts out like an idiot. No. None of his business. He's not a vigilante, but he is well on his way to becoming a serial killer. He wonders what his moniker would be. At this point, call him a social worker. The guy's arms violently twitch at the question, but he doesn't back down and only continues to glare daggers down at Andrew, which? Not fair. He should've worn his boots today.

"Assholes sticking their huge, judgemental noses into my business," the boy fires back, quite loudly. Andrew ignores the immature insult as he leans back on the shelf, arms crossed and unwilling to lose their staring competition. He much prefers this enraged fireball to the skittish pile of paranoia that first walked into the store. The boy is distractingly gorgeous like this, all of his fired up indignance focused on Andrew. It's a shame he still hasn't stomped his feet.

"Lame. Do you talk back like this to the fucker who put those bruises on you?" tactless, but Andrew never claimed to be polite. He knows how hot-tempered people work, and railing them up is disgustingly easy. Andrew sometimes just needs to stare at Aaron for him to throw a fit. Once the words start flying, the truth will too. Andrew tells himself he doesn't care.

The only indication of the guy's rage are his eyes; Andrew is pretty sure the intensity of the guy's glare should've melted the contacts right off. He stands unnaturally still, a coiled snake ready to strike. Not a rabbit, after all. But Andrew spoke too soon, because he sees the exact moment Rabbit remembers himself. His back slouches as he relaxes, his hands go back to pulling at the sleeves, and his head drops. Gone are the fire and spite, in the ashes remains the flight risk Andrew hates. The boy's mouth opens, then closes. His posture shifts as he reaches for the door and forces it open. A slight shake of his head, strands of hair escaping the hood and falling over eyes which are still glued to Andrew's. Andrew's breath gets stuck somewhere bellow his throat, maybe in his lungs, as he notices the still present shade of defiance in the boy's expression. It's miles better than fear.

"The bearded Toyota driver that was creeping around the alcohol section stole a bottle of Absolut. He escaped through the back exit two minutes ago. Hope that one hurts your pockets for a while," and Rabbit has the nerve to smirk and throw a two finger salute at the frozen Andrew as he waltzes out, the door shutting behind him with a resonating bang.

[demonfangart]

Seeing people twinkify my favorite characters from a book were they play a sport where strength is needed

[erodingsinner]

corrine puts cory's body in the attic to rot forever, only it's literal this time. they've always been rotting up there dead to the world and in the end he went right back to his place, rotting away in an attic...

[300foxholecourtt]

one of my favorite Andrew things was in blame it on my youth, where he's like yeah I remember but I can't USE the info, I just have it but there's not the backing to apply it and I think that's beautiful and really does add layers and reality to it. yeah Andrew can remember. but how much of life after undergrad is trivia? its about application, nuance, holding the differential for what it could be and having to be creative and critical enough to fix it. when new problems arise, you have to take the trivia problems from school and extrapolate.

[broken-heart-raven-queen]

Every time I see the rainbow crate cover of TRK I think (very loudly): I CAN'T DATE YOU, ANDREW MINYARD, BUT I COULD AT LEAST FUCK YOUR BROTHER.

Thanks for comming to see my so normal reaction.

[blee-bleep]

so what if i go insane and draw diakko as these panels