Do You Think Cal Shs? If You Do, How Do You Think He Hides It From His Family

Do you think cal sh’s? If you do, how do you think he hides it from his family

honestly… yes i do. now, i know there are quite a few people that hate what i’m saying, and i don’t really understand it but i respect it. my belief that cal does sh comes from studying his character. (maybe a little bit of projection too, but you can’t blame me.) when it comes to hiding it from his family, i think he has a couple ways of doing it.

i think he does it in places that he can hide quite easily like his thighs, his upper arms, and his hips. these places would make sense when we think about what he wears throughout the movie: baggy shirts and pants constantly. the only time we don’t see him in that kind of outfit is at the dentist where his mother probably asked him to dress up a little, but he is still covered.

also, another factor that leads me to believe he most likely does sh is his attitude towards death. he accepts it; he basically yearns for it. he knows of andre’s plans to flee, but he refuses to take them seriously. he speaks of his imminent death with acceptance, as if he had been waiting for it for a long time. while this could just be him being realistic, it definitely has some underlying themes. we never see him trying to come to terms with death, even at the start of the campaign. he is welcoming it like an old friend.

circling back to hiding it from his family: i think cal has always been a bit secretive to everyone, especially his family. this cage of solitude he’s placed himself in greatly aids in his hiding of sh. whenever there is something wrong, his family does not realize because he doesn’t act any different than usual in their minds.

one more thing: i don’t think he sh’s in the same way every time. yes, he uses knives—he has a butterfly knife and a couple more that we know of—but he also uses impulsive and dangerous thoughts. he takes common sense and the innate urge to protect oneself and throws them out the window, as seen in the poetry club scene, the driving with their eyes closed scene, and the scene where he flat out asks chris what the best weapon to hurt someone is. while this is not a direct threat on himself, it is a blatant disregard for his safety. it is a very serious but overlooked form of sh.

pick one..

cal or andre? 🫡

anon… i would love to be the type of person to say i love them equally… but i am not. operationandre loves andre. operationandre lives for andre. andre kriegman, i want you.

the week after we died.

a poem about life after the death of andre kriegman and calvin gabriel, written by me.

we lie on the cold floor,

brains and bone shattered and splayed on tile.

the body bags are too big.

they aren’t made to hold someone so small.

the strength and weight of our guns had left us.

with tortured minds,

our families tear through our belongings,

yearning for a letter, an explanation

of where they went wrong,

but they will find nothing.

they will go outside and spot the fire pit,

find the charcoals still smoldering.

burnt plastic and flakes of paper

that can only be explained by a tape,

by a video made in solitude.

the church refuses to hold our funerals.

we are buried with no celebration,

caskets closed for the sanity of others.

there is a family gathering for those who care:

our siblings, our parents, rachel, and mel.

our hell is our minds,

focused on one singular thought.

we go in circles,

finding ourselves in the exact place we tried to escape,

hurtling towards the point of extinction.

people are told not to live in the past

as if their loved ones do not reside there.

they are told that life will be better without us,

that life will be happier and more fulfilling,

but how can anything fill the void in which we used to reside?

we lie on the cold floor,

now only in memory and in mind,

as people avoid the space where we lay.

the way they swerve around the spot is almost natural,

as if we were designed for their hatred.

the week after we died,

graduation was halted.

the week after we died,

the police came knocking.

the world fell apart in the week after we died.

A house party at Rachel's house leads Andre to face his own loneliness. Cal desperately wants to help him but can't come up with the right words.

your posts are never shit, i love seeing all your posts on my feed even the smaller ones :))

can’t wait for the ao3 update either, im sure it’s gonna be awesome !

-🎀

bow anon, i love you. more than words. i wish i could give you a hug right now.

do NOT develop a parasocial relationship with that internet person they WILL disappoint u. not me though. u can all be parasocial with me, i will never hurt u like that