#mashed potato brains

[screampotato]

As someone who has memory issues, I started to feel like my memory was getting worse in my 30s and got quite worried about it. I've since come to the conclusion that my episodic memory is good for maybe 15-20 years' worth of memories, so if there are more than that, some get pushed out. I identify strongly with the character "me" from Doctor Who, who is immortal, but with a human memory which doesn't have the capacity to remember an immortal life.

It is what it is. In my case, I feel it's related to really good memory powers in other areas, mostly to do with retaining visual and spatial details. But in case anyone else is worried their memory is getting worse as they get older - it might not be getting worse, it might just be because you've got more past to remember.

[quibbs]

shadowhearts 3am breakdown haircut.. i love you

[wickedcriminal]

Please do not blame the story. The story cannot help itself. We do not realize it at the time, but sometimes the story we are all a part of is not just a story about vikings and islands and dragons. It is a story about growing up. And one of the things about growing up, one of the inescapable, inevitable laws, is that one day...

One day...

One day...

It is going to happen.

I'm sorry, but it's true.

Belated ninth of Doomsday! ☠️

[piratekane]

(post-3x05 kacy scene)

Warm fingertips press down against the thin skin on the inside of her wrist, a melody she knows that she knows but can’t quite place in the early grey of the morning, the sun rising, muted, through the low clouds outside the window. She was asleep a minute ago and there’s a dream quickly fading away as her eyes open slowly and the room shifts into focus.

“Morning,” Kate whispers, still sunken in her pillow.

“G’morning.” Lucy pulls the words from the back of her throat like she’s pulling cotton from a cattail. “Time s’it?”

Kate doesn’t roll over to check her phone. “Early,” she guesses. “Too early for our day off.”

A day off. A present for her jungle excursion, courtesy of Tennant. A whole day to let her body come down from the high of being chased through thick vegetation with a life hanging delicately in her hands. Lucy lets her eyes close again and sinks back into her pillow. She goes back to focusing on Kate’s fingers looped carefully around the wrist between them. Tap, tap, taptap. Tap, tap. A song, then. One that she knows but can’t quite place.

“Is that Boot Scootin Boogie?”

Kate exhales a short laugh. “Taylor Swift.”

“Who else would it be?” Lucy feels the bed shift as Kate slides a little closer. She can feel the soft heat coming off Kate’s bare arms and wants to reach for it, pull it back over her, close her eyes and slip back into sleep for just a little bit longer.

It was a long day yesterday, her nerves pulled to their breaking point. When she stepped over the threshold to their apartment, the weight she had been working so hard to push off came crashing down on her. She doesn’t remember tasting the pizza Kate ordered, doesn’t remember picking Love is Blind on the TV or queuing up where they left off. She doesn’t remember brushing her teeth or turning out the light.

She does remember Kate’s body warm behind her on the couch, her own body pressed to Kate’s front as they sat wrapped up in each other. She remembers Kate’s arms and how they wrapped low around her waist in bed and held her tightly. She remembers soft lips to her bare shoulder and I love you against her skin as she let the exhaustion take over.

She remembers the Kate of it all, the steady and warm and loving presence she’s come to need like oxygen in her lungs. She remembers the overwhelming feeling of love—one she thought she’d never find in a million years.

“I could sleep another hundred hours,” she admits, eyes still closed.

She feels Kate’s smile against the back of her hand. “You can. We have nothing planned today.”

The thought is so tempting. She could pull Kate’s arms around her, drape them over her like the light comforter they’re sharing, and let herself sink back into sleep. It’s not too far off; she could reach for it and be asleep in moments.

But Kate is awake and tapping out a Taylor Swift song against her pulse point and that usually means banana pancakes and a Golden Girls marathon and pressing Kate against the counter edge and kissing her until either their lungs start to burn or the pancakes start to smoke. Lucy loves those mornings and the way Kate tastes like the bites of bananas she snuck before mixing them into the batter.

“Did I dream yesterday?”

“Only if we were having the same nightmare.” Kate’s free hand pushes back some of Lucy’s hair. “Otherwise, it was real.”

Lucy slides her foot forward, curling her ankle around Kate’s calf. “I thought so.” She opens one eye, studying Kate’s profile. She’s committed it to memory by now. “I feel like a truck ran me over.”

“It did,” Kate murmurs. “That very much happened.”

Lucy sighs. Yesterday wasn’t a dream. She can see it vividly in her mind and she closes her eyes against it again, trying to fill it with Kate—Kate so close and so warm.

“I’m not ready to talk yet,” she admits. She isn’t. She can’t. She’s still working through her family in her own mind; she can’t possibly put into words what they’re like and what they’ve done to her and to each other.

“We don’t have to talk.” Kate’s voice is soft and genuine and Lucy thinks again—again and again—how lucky she is. “We can just lay here. We don’t have to do anything at all.”

Lucy knows Kate isn’t lying. She knows Kate won’t push and she won’t prod and she’ll let Lucy set the pace for when and where and how. And it sounds perfect—a whole day in bed with Kate and their bodies pressed close together, hidden away from the world.

But someone told her to live her life yesterday. Someone who had the courage to throw theirs to the wind and start over from scratch. Someone who proved that there are still good people in the world who want to do what’s right for the sake of doing the right thing. And even if she can’t talk about it yet, even if she’s not ready to unlock the ugly parts of her past and lay them out on the table, she’s not going to lay in bed all day and let the world just pass her by.

“No.” She opens both eyes, staring deeply into Kate’s brown ones. “Let’s get up. We can make pancakes.”

“Banana or blueberry?”

“Both,” she says, feeling greedy and not caring. “And bacon. And toast. And—“

Kate laughs. “Okay. Remember we can only eat so much.”

“I can eat so much. I’m from—“

“Texas, yes.” Kate laughs again and leans in, kissing Lucy softly and pulling away too soon.

Lucy thinks about chasing her, pressing her deep into the mattress and not stopping until she has to come up for air. But she settles on letting Kate pull away and slide out of bed, pulling her hair up into a ponytail that exposes the long line of her neck. In her thin tank top and her soft shorts, no one has ever looked more beautiful than Kate does right now.

Lucy may be holding some things back, may be keeping some things close to the vest, but this? This she wants to scream from the rooftops. This she wants everyone to know. This she wants to tell Kate.

“I love you.”

Kate looks back over her shoulder, a smile on her face that threatens to break through the grey clouds outside their window. “I love you too.”

Live your life, Lucy Tara.

Lucy smiles as she gets up and stretches her arms above her head, feeling the tension break in her shoulders. She is going to live her life. She’s going to take every moment and hold it tightly in her hands. She’s going to love Kate with every part of her that’s capable of it and when she’s ready she’ll tell Kate everything she wants to know.

“Lucy?”

Lucy looks up. “Hmm?”

“I said, we can make toast too. If you want.”

She thinks about it for a moment before she smiles. “Life is too short to skip the toast.”

Kate rolls her eyes, pulling the sheet back up on the bed. “Where did you read that?”

“That’s a Lucy Tara quote, free of charge.” She winks when Kate laughs and scrubs her hair back off her neck into a bun. “There’s more where those came from, by the way.”

“Lucky me,” Kate grumbles, still smiling.

“Yeah,” Lucy says softly. “Lucky you.” She holds Kate’s eyes for a moment. “Lucky us.”

Kate’s smile slips into shy before she clears her throat and gives the neatly-made bed one last pat. “Lucky us,” she echoes. She slips out of the bedroom and heads towards the kitchen, humming something under her breath.

Lucy watches her walk away and thinks: this is a good life. This is a life worth living.

She follows Kate.

[tethered-heartstrings]

i understand hannibal lecter. when i see a pretty man i also think "wow i want to eat him" and "he looks so cute when he murders" and "i kinda want to destroy him"

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

“van helsing confidently declares they will leave in the morning but they can’t actually access transportation for another week” is like exactly the kind of Opportunity Created By The Text i would want a good dracula adaptation (period or modern, but i think the real key here is that a dracula adaptation can only hope to capture the specific charms of the novel if it’s TV not a movie) to explore. first of all, great opportunity to lean into the horror-comedy this hypothetical adaptation should be. second of all, amazing possibilities to consider if you end one episode with van helsing being like “we leave in the morning” and then pick up the next episode with quincey being like “uh sorry guys no trains are running / flights are sold out till next week.” and then you just get to spend a whole episode marinating in everyone’s deranged coping mechanisms, intricate rituals for touching the skin of other men, and death-proximity horniness. god. like WHERE is the showrunner that will be brave enough to bring this vision to life?

[oohimsospooky]

Wonderful Precure (2024)

[coffee-system-uwu]

How much do you think Neil was expecting the foxes to turn him away? Or fear him? When he went to visit after Baltimore, how much was it eating him up inside? I think if even just Andrew had wanted him to stay, Neil would've.

Andrew didn't fail him of course. He'd staked a claim on Neil and was about ready to attack the police force if they tried to interfere with that claim.

I think Andrew's possessiveness might've saved Neil's crumbling psych. Notice Neil said 'If you want me to go". Not if the foxes did. He wasn't expecting anyone to stand up for him. No one ever had besides his mother. So why would they?

[bigboobyhalo]

reborn q!tubbo your ass has NO RIGHT to be mad at richas like oh for what ? cuz he followed thru on the bet you made ? MAYBE DON’T BET YOUR LIFE AGAINST THE KID KNOWN FOR NOT FUCKING AROUND NEXT TIME !! MAJOR L !!!

[screampotato]

To me, a good actor often looks like a literally different person in different roles. I think it's a quirk of my brain. But I'm intrigued by the extent to which Renée Zellweger just does not even slightly look like Bridget Jones, and yet portrayed her so well. Like she genuinely created an entirely separate person with her magic actor powers.

Is it just my quirky brain? Or are these entirely different people?

[aleksikesa]

I will never recover from the brain rot this game has given me

[dykergang]

[slams sketches down on the table]

royai msr au swap

Agent Roy Mustang, secluded to the FBI's basement, uncovers an alien conspiracy amongst the higher ups (in which Bradley takes part in the human colony program and Selim is an alien hybrid or smth). Agent Riza Hawkeye has been assigned to keep tabs on him, however grows sympathetic to his cause and goals to reach the top and change the system.

Flame Alchemist Fox Mulder is determined to discover the truth behind these rumors of immortal semi-humans seen throughout Central and beyond, and what they have to do with the disappearance of his sister Samantha. Lieutenant Dana Scully, who he met during the war as a field doctor, is his right hand and, on occassion, only brain cell.

[cheekedupwhiteboy]

cannot get over some theyfab lesbian posting a Warning that cohost is Run By Pedophiles because one of their (transfem, ofc) developers goes by a handle that sounds like the name of a defunct lolicon forum (?)

like. girl why do you know the names of child pornography websites lmao🎤

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

So I just realized I’ve been spelling “ven diagram” wrong the entire time. It’s spelled with two Ns. Not one 😐

Venn Diagram

[wraithsoutlaws]

my dream mod is actually getting dagger's spurs in game

[tomfool-tabbycat]

cursing the internet with a glimPse into my brain