my brain demands more tsc nonsense

“He needed to know what Nathaniel was saying in this historic moment.”

Meanwhile Neil

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again!

we need to talk about this entire scene more to be honest because there is so much more to unpack than just the "say 'yes, jeremy'"

like jean saying "defensive" teasingly like that and tugging at his glove straps with his TEETH???? SIR??? (that's enough to send me over the edge personally) it's sooooo

jean just has a certain je ne sais quoi about him (i desperately need jeremy to get drunk and say this about jean and jean having to hide a smile behind his drink bc what. like he couldn't be more annoyingly american and cute at the same time )

jeremy and his "i don't have anything to be defensive about" and the double entendre and jean losing his grip and biting his lip instead bc what the fuck jeremy. like that??? fkshsfjjsjhs

then OF COURSE the "say 'yes, jeremy'" was just golden. jer bear babes what did you think was gonna happen when you set that up so beautifully for yourself??? you ain't slick

and then jean just quirking an eyebrow all nonchalant like excuse me mr frenchie you know exactly what you just did there

finally started atla after 10+ years of telling my friend i would

Blowing a dandelion is basically you helping a weed ejaculate.

Good night. Im throwing my phone away.

Andrew texting Neil:

Gathering evidence of Jeremy's issues like ✍🏻✍🏻

Ok, so whatever happened it was at the fall banquet 4 years before and probably involved cops. (I don't think there will be *two* major scandals)

Hints of the missing brother.

Other sus stuff

I don't have any big theories. Thinking either brother killed hinself after an argument with Jeremy, crash while driving to get Jeremy out of custody, or cut contact with everyone after their poor reaction to Jeremy's scandal (and I think he was outed, hence the floozies and why he has to stay home during the week)

— Frank Bidart, from “Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘The Third Hour of the Night’", published c. 2017.

do they? not have? water bottles? no this is important. how do these kids consume water on the daily? they are d1 athletes i refuse to think they all just patiently wait in line to use a fountain during practices and games. and i dont even want to think about how little water neil consumes on the run if he doesnt have a water bottle

The King's Men - Epilogue

Day: Saturday, April 27th / 28th* Time: 3:10 AM EST

Neil waits off to one side while the others file out, knowing Andrew will be the last to leave. Wymack knows better than to stick around and follows his Foxes down the hall. Andrew brings Neil's duffel to him. Neil takes it but drops it off to one side. Andrew studies it for a moment, then shrugs out of his own bag and puts a hand to the wall near Neil's head. "Your close calls are getting old," Andrew says. "I thought you knew how to run." Neil affects confusion. "I thought you told me to stop running." "Survival tip: no one likes a smart mouth." "Except you," Neil reminds him. A year ago Neil had been a scared nobody, hating himself for signing the Foxes' contract and counting down days until he moved in with Wymack. Tonight he is the starting striker for the first-ranked team in the NCAA. In two years he'll be captain, and in four he'll graduate from Palmetto State. Neil will find a professional team first and then fight tooth and nail to make the cut for Court. Neil can already imagine the weight of an Olympics medal around his neck. He doesn't even care what color it is so long as it is his. Better than that bright future is what he already has: a court that will always be home, a family who'll never give up on him, and Andrew, who for once hasn't wasted their time denying that this thing between them might actually mean something to both of them. Neil didn't even notice the silence at first, too distracted by his dizzying thoughts. Now he can't help but smile and pull Andrew in. This is everything he wanted, everything he needed, and Neil is never letting go.

END OF ALL FOR THE GAME SERIES.

Art commissioned and used with permission by the incredible @hamrikaa!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

i was always a neil ride or die but tsc just cemented for me that andrew saw the vision and locked that shit down immediately

Jason: We do this the old-fashioned way

Jason: *pulls out a Molotov cocktail*

Dick: How did you make that so fast?!

30 min sketch of King and my king

you worry the cardboard sleeve around the coffee and think about landfills and the future without straws. you are worried about prion disease and deer. you are worried about the rising temperature of mushrooms. you are worried about teflon and microplastics and carcinogens and whatever else you're being quietly lied to about.

your mother used to jokingly say you are "a worrier," which always kind of oddly hurt your feelings. you feel like a person. and besides, you've been told one-million-times that this is normal. examples get trotted out in a pony show each time: everyone gets nervous sometimes. they talk about public speaking and picturing people naked and how when they get nervous they just-get-over-it.

you run your hands down the grater of your life and feel the sharpness. you started holding your breath in tunnels as a kid, worried that if you relax, the ceiling would cave in. like years of architects and engineers weren't responsible - you, and your faith, you were responsible for the success of infrastructure. if you slipped for a moment, your whole family would be swept away under the ocean. and the problem is that it worked - no tunnel collapsed.

you once broke a coffee carafe and even though you didn't drink from it after, you worried that there had been some previous invisible micro-break that had made you drink glass particles. you stayed awake for 24 hours, constantly dreading each swallow, waiting to taste blood.

you hate being late, you worry about it. you go to grab literally just lunch with a friend - no pressure, no emergency - and you still park the car an hour early and just sit there scrolling on your phone aimlessly. maybe you just don't like surprises or change. you triple-check you locked the doors, and then go to bed, and then get up out of bed to check twice again.

a worrier. like a strange and dreadful bingo card, you collect weekly experiences. someone tells you that you're overthinking, that's 2 points. you have to physically turn around and go back in your house to check you unplugged everything, that's 1 point. spiraling about climate change or politics or the state of the world is a free space, that's basically every evening.

you worry you're being selfish and not a good person because how come you're worried about your dog's health and the itch in your eye when you know people who are really very ill or who have it worse or who are genuinely struggling. then you worry that you're being annoying by infantilizing them. then you worry that your priorities are wrong, that you should be infinitely more worried about the state of a dying planet.

you wanted to be a person, is all. you wanted to go through life in a softness, to hold the world gently and have it whisper past you. and instead you are a worrier. everything that touches you is hard and raw and sharp like diamonds.

You guys rlly don't realise how much knowledge is still not committed to the internet. I find books all the time with stuff that is impossible to find through a search engine- most people do not put their magnum opus research online for free and the more niche a skill is the less likely you are to have people who will leak those books online. (Nevermind all the books written prior to the internet that have knowledge that is not considered "relevant" enough to digitise).

Whenever people say that we r growing up with all the world's knowledge at our fingertips...it's not necessarily true. Is the amount of knowledge online potentially infinite? Yes. Is it all knowledge? No. You will be surprised at the niche things you can discover at a local archive or library.

the evolution of gideon describing harrow smiling in gideon the ninth: a comprehensive collection

Then Harrow cocked her head to the side like a quizzical bird and smiled a tiny, contemptuous smile. (Chapter 2)

The necromancer could not hide a triumphant smile. It stretched her mouth and made her split lips bleed. The sight was incomparably creepy. (Chapter 14)

Harrow’s lips curled. They showed her teeth, stained slightly pink with blood. She smiled again—slower than before, just as terrible, just as strange. (Chapter 14)

Harrowhark smiled. This smile was unusual too: it betokened conspiracy, which was normal, except that this one invited Gideon to be part of it. Her eyes glowed like coals with sheer collusion. Gideon didn’t know if she could handle all these new expressions on Harrow: she needed a lie down. (Chapter 16)

A small, astonished smile creased her mouth. The smile transformed her face into an affliction of beauty that Gideon had heretofore managed to ignore. (Chapter 32)

Gideon looked over her shoulder at her, and caught the Reverend Daughter’s smile. There was blood sweat coming out of her left ear, but her smile was long and sweet and beautiful. (Chapter 36)

The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House smiled, tiny and triumphant. Then she keeled into Gideon’s arms. Gideon stumbled, sick with terror, kneeling them both down to the ground as Harrow lay like a broken rag doll. She forgot her sword, forgot everything as she cradled her used-up adept. She forgot the wrecked ligaments in her sword arm, her messed-up knee, the cups of blood she’d lost, everything but that tiny, smouldering, victorious smile. (Chapter 36)

i will be over in the corner crying and you all are welcome to join me