#.....so sorry for my brain connections

[ahappyphjl]

skinny jeans are a struggle, apparently

[oneroomjestershow]

wait he's innocent it was the rats

[lady-lauren]

.

[certifiedfae]

rhaenyra’s girlkissing is like when dan and phil both came out separately. like rhaenicent is half confirmed and the girlkissing recontextualizes the whole relationship as shown in the show. im losing my mind u guys

[cheekblush]

took myself on a little shopping trip yesterday in the city where i used to study in hopes of lifting my spirits but by the end of the day i felt so disheartened. wandering the same streets 10 years later and not much has changed. i’m still the same lonely unlovable girl.

[all-thestories-aretrue]

Here are the Thoughts™️I promised @discordkittenterumi

This post is a much longer follow to this post from last night as I was listening to episode 60.

This post is also in conversation with with something @peppedstep mentioned about Neil’s loyalty to the coterie, which I touch on briefly.

Everything sort of solidified in my brain after finishing 60 at like 2 am last night.

In 60, we see Neil wake up in a strange place with Weathers and Amara with him. The last thing he remembers is running from his sire which seems to be several days ago.

Neil also does not remember much of Baghdad (which is a whole separate post that is coming. I have many thoughts about Nara and Neil in that situation).

He routinely has panic attacks, some of which lead to dissociation. For example, before his trial in 37 and 38, we see him go catatonic when he realizes his haven is under attack. Dissociation is not usually something that happens to someone once and then never again. It’s a coping mechanism, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s something he experiences, perhaps not regularly, but with some sort of frequency.

In addition, many of his rituals require his mind to be separated from his body, and we know kalif also impacts his cognitive function as also seen in Baghdad. He has the capability of astral projecting which leaves his body behind, defenseless. The ritual with the bull in 6, he had others stay nearby just in case something were to happen. The second time he completes the ritual, Johnny escorts him.

Neil is often dependent on the people around him to keep him safe, and we see him repeatedly look to others for their judgement before he makes a decision on his own. He looks to Nara to trust Jubair, and he looks to Amara to trust Catherine and this mission. In these two cases in particular, he’s forced to rely on others’ assessments of the situation because he cannot make his own. In addition, relies on Britta and Miles to defend him in court while Johnny and Wynn take care of his haven. He also places an immense amount of trust in the coterie and their decisions, generally speaking.

Peppedstep mentioned that family is important to Neil, the coterie is important to Neil. He consistently revolves around the idea of keeping them together and spending their final nights together. I agree, but to add another layer to that, Neil trusts everyone in the coterie, and as has often been discussed, trust is an extremely rare commodity for Kindred, and in some cases doesn’t exist at all. What Neil has with the coterie almost seems to be unprecedented given the general picture of the Camarilla and Kindred society the audience is presented with. He knows these people will protect him and/or his body when he is unable to.

I would imagine, without them, his quality of life would be diminished, and all it would take is one mistake, one bad episode, for him to meet final death or another horrible fate, especially considering his abilities. It was a stroke of luck that Amara and Weathers picked Neil up.

His drug use, mental health issues, and magical abilities all work closely together to form a complex web of memory loss and a distrust of his own opinions. Even further, I would argue that his memory loss contributes to his lack of a sense of identity.

I believe it’s been mentioned a few times that Neil doesn’t really have a strong sense of identity (I am not going to sort through all 60 episodes to find those sources though, sorry! I do think it might have been brought up at the party when Fester was preparing him?), and that’s proven by how he talks about his worth early on when Wynn confronts him after the bull ritual. He, and I am paraphrasing here, believes he is useful because he can provide the coterie with knowledge. Later on, he mentions that Miles kept him around because of his specific abilities which again, his worth is tied up in his usefulness to people.

This mentality is compounded by his early history with his sire. In 51 or 52 (I can’t remember which and I’m not going to look it up), it’s described that Neil looks at his sire the way one might look at an abusive parent. Neil is absolutely terrified of this person even now. Based on Neil’s nonconfrontational personality, some of his coping mechanisms in the face of this abuse could easily be making himself small, agreeing with his sire, etc. leading to the people-pleasing nature we see in Neil now. Peppedstep also posited that Neil could have been Embraced to be made in his sire’s image. We know he is a loner, we know he has visions, and maybe he also feels the need for family in his own demented way. Regardless of if that is true, Neil’s sire had a massive effect on who Neil became as a Kindred and without question would influence his sense of identity. If Peppedsteps’s theory is true, then Neil’s sire would have stripped away any sense of who he was to remake him in his image.

TLDR: Neil has memory loss from a combination of drug use, mental health issues, and magical abilities which make him reliant on others for his safety in certain circumstances and further exacerbate his lack of a sense of identity.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[blindmagdalena]

really obsessed with soulmate au’s recently and it got me thinking… what if john’s soulmate was part of the boys? a girl trying to kill him with an entire group of people also trying to kill him… and he’s fated to her? could picture him finding out and just putting his hands on his hips while turning his back to her and doing that click chuckle thing. just in utter disbelief but it is definitely on track for fate’s little play with him and his life lolol

Oohhh, you know, I've never played much with the soulmate au concept, but this struck me just right because I can so clearly see the slow, building meltdown that strikes him when that reveal drops.

The mirthless laugh, shaking his head, the hapless gesture to the ceiling before his hands drop. "Of course. Of course it's you. Why wouldn't it be? I mean—Christ, it makes sense, doesn't it? Every single person who was supposed to love me has-has fucked it, so why—" he keeps cutting into this escalating, unsettling laughter. There's nothing funny about it: you're sure that you're watching someone lose the last shred of their sanity in real time. "Why would my 'soulmate'-", he says, miming big, dramatic quotation marks. "-be any different?" That manic grin has shifted into tight baring of his teeth, a vicious sneer. He closes in on you, stands so near you can feel the heat of his breath when he hisses, "I should put you in the fucking dirt with the rest of them."

It should be terrifying, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the glassiness of his eyes. The sheer devastating heartbreak of it all, telegraphed clear as day in the way he carries himself. His eyes flare red, sizzling up the tears before they can fall. "And then you really will be all alone," you say. Maybe it's the hopelessness of the moment, maybe it's the shock of learning for yourself that he's supposed to be your one and only, but you feel numb. Frayed in a way you didn't know you could be. The crimson light of his eyes disappears in an instant, revealing surprise, followed by a wounded kind of look, before that familiar seething rage returns. "We'll see about that."

[tennessoui]

absolutely hate when i can't think of where a quote or saying comes from but i know it absolutely comes from some piece of media i've consumed in the past and i agonize over trying to trace it back to the source and then give it up, and then i'm watching a piece of media and bam i found the root of the phrase and it's like. thor ragnarok. or something.

[gooperts-gunk]

watching bagi's vod instead of live to keep up um. um. at 5:08:10 q!bbh says "i guess you should put i DID like beach vacations, and then there was that one time... i went to naples and that didn't end well..."

UM. UM. CASUAL GOOGLE SEARCH OF "disasters that started in naples italy" AND I FIND.

Q!BAD????? Q!BADBOYHALO?????? just a normal day in 1343 AD for him. nothing we didn't know he could do. just an instance we didn't know of. his disaster count only grows, im excited for his next one. sitting politely, twiddling my thumbs all shy

[mariatesstruther]

okay just hear me out modern au where tommy ends up picking up ellie from pre school almost everyday since joel is busy but he keeps meeting teacher maria

okay bestie as a preschool teacher you GOT me with this one. like you got me SO GOOD. this might actually get published to ao3, you got me soooo fuckin’ good right now. i have so many unnecessary details for such a simple plot so here’s a cut

tbh i feel like even as busy as joel is, he’d prioritize picking up and dropping of sarah as much as he can, so maybe he and tommy would alternate???? so on days when tommy drops off, joel picks up and when joel drops off, tommy picks up. sarah goes to a public preschool with a lot of kids, so she gets easily overwhelmed and sometimes needs extra cuddles or kind words in the mornings to make it out of the car.

one monday, a couple months into school, sarah is particularly VERY anxious because there’s a new teacher to replace ms. doherty, who quit unexpectedly on friday “because she said we gave her alooooottt of headaches, daddy.” now, sarah knows nothing about the new teacher except that shes a girl from a place called new york—and sarah doesn’t even know what new yawk IS like, thats So Far Away??? (“it’s not really that far, baby,” joel says to her. “and it’s new york. with an o sound.”) still, sarah is VERY concerned:

is new yawk like another planet???? (no, babygirl.) but what if she’s an alien???? (the school only hires human teachers, baby. they promised.) but what if she’s a SECRET alien??? (she won’t be, i promise.) okay but what if she’s mean???? (if she is, you tell me or tommy and we’ll talk to her about it, okay? she shouldn’t be mean to you.) what if she doesn’t play good music at quiet time???? (you can ask her nicely and i bet she will, baby. just say please and thank you, okay?)

still, even with her questions answered, sarah is very nervous on monday. both joel and tommy go with her in an effort to start her day off extra good, especially because joel can’t pick her up. they reassure her that new york has plenty of nice people and her new teacher will probably be one of them. she also gets TWO WHOLE extra minutes of cuddle time with BOTH of them before she and daddy have to leave the car—it’s half for her and half for them, because they’re honestly pretty anxious for her to like her new teacher too

joel is the one to hold sarah’s hand and walk her inside, because the school prefers only one guardian to drop off at a time. tommy’s nervous, but joel actually seems pretty pleased when he gets back to the car with no sarah in tow. surprisingly, he’s back faster than any time they’ve ever dropped sarah off before. with a proud smile, he tells tommy is that miss maria seems really nice. more importantly, she’s Black, which joel says Sarah got really excited about. tommy pries for more details, and he’s glad he does: apparently miss maria has locs, a few even blue and purple, and the first thing sarah’d said to her was an emphatic “😲😍🤩 i like your hair!!!!!!!!,” to which she had responded “thank you! i like your hair! what’s your name, sweets?” and that’d been that

later, when tommy does pickup that day, he doesn’t know what to expect. most times at the end of the day, sarah is super reserved and a bit cranky, eager to get home to finally have time to herself. tommy’s goal is usually to try and get her to at least wave goodbye to her teachers like joel asks—but, more often than not, she opts for reaching for uppies and hiding her face in his chest until they leave.

today??? no. it takes sarah a full two minutes to even notice tommy’s there because her and this drop-dead-fucking-gorgeous woman in a soft-looking lavender pants and blouse set are finishing up a painting at the easel wall. they’re working on what looks like a brown and purple butterfly, probably the most carefully shaped sarah’s ever made.

tommy’s heart stops when this goddess miss maria finally looks over at him and smiles with perfect pearly-whites, waving him over behind sarah’s back. when she says “sarah honey, i think someone’s here for you!” in her sing-songy toddler-tone, tommy swears an angel gets his wings. sarah turns around, shrieks with joy upon seeing him, and runs down to him with her arms out, yelling all the while: “THOMMYYYYYYY!!!!!”—because sarah’s still working on her hard ts—“thommy!!!! thommy thommy thommy come look!!! i made a butterfly for u!!!!! look!!!!! it matches ms. maria!!!!!! it’s gorgeous!!!!” (she’s been obsessed with calling things gorgeous ever since she heard tommy say it about a harley motorbike last week. joel especially thinks it’s cute, especially because of how she over-emphasizes the j-sound: gor-Jus.)

tommy’s never seen her so excited to show her art off at pickup-time before; usually, she waits until they’re home and she’s feeling less shy to start showing off, but she’s babbling and pointing to it as he picks her up and sets her on his hip: “it’s brown and purple like miss maria!!! isnt it so gorgeous, unca thommy??? do you like it???? aren’t they SO gorgeous????”

and now miss maria is looking at him. and he’s looking at her. tommy knows he’s blushing, and he hesitates—which sarah does NOT appreciate, so she says: “unca tommy!!!!!!! don’t be WUDE! thell miss maria she’s gorgeous!!! she is!!!”

luckily, miss maria saves him by explaining, in a slightly firmer teaching voice: “sarah sweets, that’s okay! we’re only just meeting, and that’s not really something you say to a stranger, okay?”

“but why noooooooot?? you are gorgeous! like my butterfly! isn’t she so gorgeous, thommy?”

“well, yeah, of course,” tommy agrees easily, because she obviously is—and shit. now miss maria is looking at him like he’s a fucking bonehead, because he obviously fucking is. “but—uh, i mean—she’s right, hon’. you gotta listen to your teacher, and that’s not somethin’ you say to a stranger, okay?”

but then, after thinking to her tiny self for a few seconds: “well if she stays my teacher then she’s not a stranger, is she???” sarah asks tommy, then turns her conniving little head towards maria, too. “and you said you’d stay! so can he say you’re gorgeous tomorrow?” then, without waiting for an answer, she’s back towards tommy to finish: “i think you should call her gorgeous tomorrow.”

“i think we should go home, s’what i think,” tommy says, finally deciding to save himself from four-year-old torment. he sets sarah down and pats her on the end with a gentle but firm request to go get her stuff from her cubby, which she goes to do without her complaints of being too tired to walk. maria watches them closely with a close-lipped but relaxed grin. when sarah’s out of earshot, he apologizes. “sorry ‘bout that, ma’am.”

“don’t be,” miss maria teases, crossing her arms. “you did call me gorgeous, after all. i’ve had worse introductions.”

“tommy miller,” he offers, moving to shake her hand. he notices her nails are done-up, a sparkly blend of pretty shades of purple that look tie-dyed on somehow. her hands aren’t soft, not really, but they’re smooth enough to make him shiver as he pulls away. “sarah’s uncle.”

“oh, i know,” she reassures, then nods her head pointedly towards sarah. the little one is coming back towards them with her lunchbox in one hand and her water bottle in the other, walking extra careful so she doesn’t trip over herself like she did last week, tommy guesses. clearly fond, maria continues. “she spent all day telling me about you and her daddy. you’re doing great with her.”

“unca thommy! i’m ready to go!” sarah sing-songs, interrupting whatever miss maria might’ve said next. internally, tommy thanks his niece—the you’re doing great was already enough to make him cry, and he’d rather not do so in front of either her or her amazing new teacher. plopping her lunch and bottle at tommy’s feet, sarah gives not one, but two eager waves to miss maria, hands flapping madly up towards the woman’s face. “bye miss mariaaaaa!!!! i’ll see you tomorrow!!!!”

“bye sarah sweets!” maria says back, waving just as enthusiastically. to tommy, she raises an amused, teasing eyebrow. just loud enough for him to hear as he turns away, he hears her say “bye, gorgeous,” and laugh, giving yet another angel a pair of wings.

it takes everything in him to not fall straight to the floor, toppling his own precious niece, right then. he doesn’t think he even breathes until both he and Sarah are secured in the car, him in the front and her in her carseat. she’s already babble singing mary j. blige’s “just fine,” which they usually play and sing on their way home from school to help her regulate. when he plays the song this time, sarah smiles bright at him through the rearview and says “i already feel just fine, unca tommy!!! but can we still play it, just for fun?”

“of course, baby,” he says, and start singing along with her. he’s feeling just fine, too.

🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

tagging some homies (btw just let me know if u wanna be tagged in this kinda stuff or not guys! im never sure lol): @becomethesun @clickergossip @boilingcowboy @bumblepony

[soullessjack]

throwing out just One more hot dean and jack take while it’s on my brain but I honestly think dean gives jack a little more autonomy than sam and cas do . Maybe.

[wildstar25]

G'raha looked so serious while he pleaded his case to venture into the World of Darkness with the Warrior of Light. The sudden conviction in his tone had Arsay at a loss for words. Still, she did not hesitate to meet his request with an accepting nod. He was an important friend and in the passing moons that they'd come to know each other, a strong fondness for him had taken hold of her. The prospect of helping G'raha find the truth behind his mysterious inheritance made Arsay's heart pound. It was the perfect venture for them to embark on. The first of many, she hoped. The two turned towards the impossibly tall spire that dared to pierce the heavens above. Arsay's resolve strengthened in its presence. When they next find themselves gazing at the tower -with their quest completed and the world no longer under threat of total destruction- she'll properly ask G'raha to be a companion in her travels. A grin crept its way onto her face as her gaze shifted to him. If Arsay could find it within herself to bare her heart to others so readily just as he does… perhaps their future adventures will find them together, hand in hand.

[windydrawallday]

Long-PSA-short of sorts that's more a vent: I was always aware my behavior and way of expressing myself online can surprise many people, especially if they are not used to someone who uses the writing medium as a playful form to tell emotions in a very descriptive way as I do. I'm quite affectionate with words, yes. And I always beg people I hang with personally to let me know if some of that bothers them, curtly of course. So far there have been few instances of individuals confusing those signals with ulterior means, things I assure you there's nothing more than me being friendly and supportive.

Imagine idk an excited dog seeing its owner haha

Until the past week, I found myself being tackled by something that made me almost knock everything aside because it made me realize that probably I'm a walking trigger/squick inducer with even the way I wield words like "love" and "friendship".

Almost...

I'm pretty tolerant of whatever way people conduct themselves in this life, the only moment I flinch is when an individual assumes from my default behavior and presentation that I want to impose my way of life... And nopes.

This is simply how and who I am. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't search for conflict but for understanding. My language for expressing marvel and reflections is like this, never to make the other feel awkward or attacked.

So, it upset me knowing that by wielding this forever welcoming and lovable disposition, I can be something to fear and even despite... to some people.

But, you know? That means that my "love" and "friendship" lifestyle are not made for you, no reason to come back to me and point at it. Just keep walking if you have only rage and rejection to give as a reply to my point of view. Because by wielding rage and rejection, what you only do is burn bridges. To create conflict and assume imaginary antagonistic scenarios where there's nothing of that at all.

You can't create the world you wish to live in by burning bridges.

It took me a lot too to forge who I am right now. I even keep learning and chiseling through traumas and mistakes—kindness and patience taught me more than rage and rejection. And "love" and "friendship" are the bricks I chose to build those bridges. I know everyone else uses different concepts but in the end, we all build bridges. By creating bridges and inviting others to do the same, I expand not only my world, but the other's too!

Isn't that better than demanding to be this or that through a black/white flag of rage and rejection? I think so. And I understand perfectly we sometimes need to be blunt when marking our boundaries. Still, never justifies treating the other bad.

And if some of you find "fake" or distasteful the way I wear this flag of "love" and "friendship" I'm sorry: this place will never be safe for you then. The exit door is always open. Go ahead.

I hope you find your place and flags out there too, but don't forget that to do that you need to build bridges. If you don't want to call it "friendship" call it "glue" or whatever makes you comfortable, but don't kick people like me who fought with claws and teeth to reclaim those words and feelings.

Fight your fight by being a good example, not a bad experience that makes someone never want to deal with something like this again in their life.

"Any color you like, (in the end) they're all blue."

[arson-09]

I like feyre, even though sjm kinda killed her character i stand with my girl for the most part. emphasis on the most part because i will never recover from her manipulating tamlin to lash out in acomaf/acowar (sorry they all bleed together)🧍🏻

And people will say she was justified in what she did and that its tamlins fault that he lashed out. like it wasnt great on his part but it is a type of emotional manipulation from feyre to get him to do that. she had to push him to get that reaction, it wasnt a natural reaction and man. Sjm accidentally wrote 90% of my childhood experiences with shitty boys LIKE how did she do that ⁉️

[alkeneater]

A couple of days ago i felt so apathetic and thought that my hyperfixation on clone high is leaving me forever, i didn't want to rewatch the show, to see any fanart on pinterest, i marked some edits on tiktok as "not interesting", I even changed my wallpaper from clone high fanart to something else, that made me so depressed, i was like "It's over....... isn't it....."

Yesterday evening i spent inking the last pages of the third part of E!280 and listening to abandoned pools, especially the clone high intro, i replayed it like 5 times.

And you know what? WE'RE SO FUCKING BACK!!!! I feel alive again, the intro literally healed me and I want to rewatch the first season today after I come back home from college.

This fandom keeps leaving my mind and coming back for four years straight, and every time I'm reminded of clone high, i remember why I love this show so much. I've never felt such a connection with a cartoon before 🥺

It's so funny, it has cool characters, the satire, the artstyle!! I know some cartoons are objectively better (especially compared to the newer seasons), but clone high is forever in my heart and lives in my head rent-free. And I don't mind.

[blackjackkent]

There are a lot of possible keyholes for Rakha's flophouse key in the dormitory area.

However, the annoying fellow who was badgering her about the Steel Watchers is walking around, so some more exploration is in order before committing to property theft. Specifically, she's interested in the ladder that leads to the upper floor, given the note they found downstairs about it being expanded.

Rakha has had a lot of L's lately, so I'm going to go ahead and give her a W here for once and say that her skill at observation and extrapolation allows her to notice that the obvious available floor space here doesn't match what they saw on the outside. (She actually does have a +d6 to everything rn because of the Moment of Ecstasy back in the Caress.)

And from there she notices that the wardrobe has a very subtle keyhole.

The hidden room smells of blood. Immediately all of Rakha's senses are on alert. She feels herself starting to salivate, her heart rate pulsing faster.

The tables in the room are strewn with papers soaked in red.

Rakha's head aches longingly. Her fingers twitch, unconsciously mimicking the motions of cutting and ripping described in the paper.

The most interesting piece, though, is this:

The names continue, a full page of them. Rakha stares down the list, taking in each name one at a time. Stelmane. Lorgan. Dribbles.

They knew Orin and the Bhaalists were involved with Lorgan and Dribbles' death. But this shows that Stelmane's death is also connected - which makes sense, as it opened the way for Gortash's ascension. And to judge by this paper, there are many others marked for death, and their purpose is not only for the support of the Absolute plot.

The Dread Lord's Tribunal in the Temple of Bhaal.

She realizes abruptly that she is sitting down on the floor, staring at the paper and clutching at the scar on her head.

Wyll crouches next to her. "Do you remember something?" he asks softly.

She shakes her head. "No. But it's... familiar..." She swallows. And it is. Something resonates painfully about those words. The Dread Lord's Tribunal.

The smell of blood is stronger in this corner. She looks down, her eyes involuntarily focusing on the spray of blood there, parsing its meaning.

"Something was dragged," she mutters hoarsely. "Under the bed."

She shifts, running her fingers along the blood trail, following it into the shadows - and closing them around cloth.+

"Another victim?" Rakha asks. Wyll shrugs uncertainly.

The woman has another key on her body.

Rakha squints at it curiously. There were numbers carved on the chests downstairs, the ones next to each of the beds. This person was a tenant here.

-----

Back downstairs, Jaheira talks with the annoying fellow in the dormitory area to keep him distracted while Rakha loots the dead woman's chest.

All that's in it is a diary, barely used.

"Her boy." Rakha tilts her head to the side. "The one who killed her, perhaps? A Bhaalist."

Jaheira, surprisingly, has acquired a strange look on her face that Rakha doesn't know how to parse. "A child she raised, who turned on her nevertheless," she mutters. "A bitter way to die indeed."