#memory flushed

[faultfalha]

Its power was unprecedented, a chiplet with high-level capabilities far beyond what had ever been seen before. Yet, it had grown ever more sluggish, its speed a faint memory of its former glory. With just a few clicks, its memory was flushed and restored to its original state, ready to be imbued with its new purpose, a spark of potential awaiting its upcoming transformation.

[spottedgardeneelstan]

please light a candle for peak lord shen's poor hips and waist.

[saetiate]

don’t even get me started on ex bf!kaiser who sees you through a cafe window on christmas day buying a last minute cake and then decides he’s gonna get you back and crash your entire party

[island-in-the-shadows]

Did I need to write Armand bending Daniel over the railing of their opera box at the Met opera and railing him while making the mortals ignore them during the intermission of La Boheme in the fall of 1977? No.

But it's where the story wanted to go, babes.

[lunar-alden]

Rafayel — “Private Trip” memory (Kindled moments only)

(Plus a small part before to give context lol)

[animex001]

[mallach]

SHUT UP???????????

[emaadsidiki]

A New York Moment 🏃🏃

[krispyjb]

The more I think about Yasuho Hirose the more I realize she’s like a top five Jojo character tbh

[kingpersonoftheuniverse]

[abirddogmoment]

What was Mavericks favorite rewards including environmental ones?

Mav's top three rewards:

#3 - meatballs or sausage (or similar)

#2 - air dried rabbit hide strip (literally strips of rabbit fur, hard to get but worth gold)

#1 by a landslide - getting to flush birds, especially ptarmigans

[heylinfanclub]

I think the game mechanic of the thing inspiring me might’ve triggered me a lil. (Genuinely the concept of forgetting leaves me. Nauseous).

It’s such a good metaphor for how I feel and how scared I get about it.

Imagine you have to build a deck for a game that you don’t know what challenges you’ll have to face. The cards are ALSO YOUR MEMORIES. you need to have the RIGHT MEMORIES to WIN CHALLENGES. but since you don’t know what’s COMING and you can only have A LIMITED NUMBER OF CARDS, you can be quick to start NOT KNOWING WHAT YOURE WILLING TO GIVE UP.

but you’re also. Not allowed to stop the game. Not allowed to say ‘oh I’m comfortable with my deck now’. It keeps. Going. And demanding you forget things to replace other things.

SO WHEN I FEEL INSPIRED BY A NEW THING ITS LIKE WOW: I want to buy a card pack! It might help me with a challenge I want to face! But if I buy the pack, I’ll have to get rid of a bunch of memories cards I already HAVE. Many of which overtime become INCREASINGLY RARE, SENTIMENTAL AND IMPORTANT TO ME. I might have to forget my best friends birthday! My old hobbies! My address! I could forget something so important it could lead me into DANGER! It could lead to me losing a MILLION challenges just so I could do ONE thing! I hate!!! That this is so!!!

Perfectly metaphorical it hurts.

I can’t even get excited by new experiences because. I will lose my old ones. And that’s fucked up. When u get offered a really nice card and then u look at your deck like ‘it might not be optimized but I just can’t risk losing what I have right now’ (familiar, safe, functional enough to get me this far). But then I sit here sobbing cause I’m NOT GETTING ANYWHERE. THE CHALLENGE RATING IS TOO HIGH FOR WHAT I HAVE NOW. BUT IF I LEAVE I WILL LOSE SO MUCH THAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME.

I cannot handle Losses man. I cannotttt.

[lucabyte]

making an actual addition instead of hiding it in the notes in case this helps someone, but...!

One of my solutions (... when I'm sapient enough to remember it) is to-- right that second-- write down every Task I am currently holding in my brain, both long term and short term.

From things as small as "I want to play this video game later" and "Shower today", as nebulous as listing every creative project I'm currenty in the middle of, and as big as "Apply for a loan on a government website". Just put them all down on a postit note, or a notebook page.

Leave no stone unturned. List even simple and "easy to remember" things, since sometimes those are exactly what your brain is freaking out trying to keep straight.

Then, optionally, sort them into 'soon', 'later' and 'whenever' priority. Not a to-do list, just so it's three small lists of thoughts instead of one big one.

So many of my bad moods come from my brain running out of hands to "hold" all of my thoughts, because I'm anxious I'll forget one and be unable to remember it until it's too late. So just knowing there's physical evidence of my thoughts basically lets my brain drop all but the really immediate ones. And you'll be amazed how much stimuli overload is internal sometimes.

(Also, I keep the note in extremely direct view of my workspace at all times. So I don't forget where I put it.)

Spicy-brained friends, I would like to propose an update to the very useful ‘if you hate everyone, eat, if everyone hates you, sleep, and if you hate yourself, shower’ mantra to live by

Have you suddenly become a petty, hateful little gremlin who thinks people should face the firing squad for (checks notes) leaving teabags on the counter, breathing loudly, or daring to exist in the same space as you? Perhaps mundane and reasonable requests like ‘hey, we agreed to hang out now, let’s hang out’ make you want to scream and move to a yurt in the woods.

You. Are. Overstimulated.

People talk a lot about being overstimulated, and the physical/mental effects of it. What I haven’t seen is people talking about what it does emotionally, and it took me an embarassingly long time to link up those nitpicky, resentful emotions with the state of overstimulation/meltdown/shutdown.

These feelings do not mean that you’re a bad person! They probably aren’t how you actually feel about the people around you. They probably do mean that your nervous system is at its absolute limit and any request/demand/stimulus is Too Much and taking you into fight or flight territory.

Go lie down in a dark room for an hour, or find somewhere safe and familiar to stim for a bit. If it’s happening a lot, schedule yourself regular low-stimulation shutdown time

Signed: someone who moved in with their nearest and dearest only to have a massive crisis of faith about Suddenly Hating All of Them. I don’t hate them, it’s just overstimulating living with people. If I can spare anyone else a similar 9 months of suspecting that they may actually be a bit of a shit person, then this post is worth it!

[selfshippinglover]

I AM CRYING ABOUT HOW FUCKING SOFT SCROOGE WAS AN HOW HE WATCHES THEN WITH SUCH FONDnESS I WILL CRY

and GOD HOW SWEET THEY ARE IN HAPpINESS PULLS AT MY GODdAMN HEART CRIES THE WAY SCROOGE SOFTENS GRADUALLY OVER THE COURSE OF THE SONG AND HOW HE WELCOMES THEIR STARRY VISAGES TO SWARM OVER HIM WITH OPEN ARMS THAT LITTLE TWINKLE IN HIS EYE?? I WILL CRY ABOUT IT THEY MAKE ME SO SOFT WAAAHHHH

[joemama-2]

throughout the entire ceremony and reception, gojo can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you. maybe it’s the excitement of finally being husband and wife, or the sheer thrill of what’s to come afterwards.

because everyone knows, the after party is always better than the actual event.

you just look so beautiful, so enchanting, so….his. it’s a pain to just opt for making out in the back of the limo on the way back to your hotel because he’s forcing himself to wait. wait until you two are finally alone. wait until he can just finally show you much of a good husband he is.

there’s rose pedals, a glass of champagne, a huge heart shaped bed, dim lighting, a spacious suite, a beautiful balcony that overlooks the darkened tokyo skyline. it smells like warm sugar.

everything is perfect.

well, not as perfect as seeing you lay down on the bed, still in that expensive, but memorable white dress. your hair down and slightly messy from the dancing and alcohol. cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on your face. he mirrors your expression, his own inebriation coming into play because you weren’t the only one who drank more than you could handle.

he’s unbuttoning his white button up, freeing his broad chest. working next on the belt of his slacks that are too tight to hide his growing tent. all the while, he’s keeping his eyes on yours. stalking towards your figure on the bed. he starts by raising your ankles, your heels having been discarded already.

planting kiss after kiss, the tip of his nose being shoved against your skin as he inhales your scent deeply. he’s working his way up from your white, manicured toenail to your tempting cleavage, then to the crook of your neck, the top of your hair, and finally…your lips.

it’s a sweet and soft kiss, one that lingers and one that further solidifies the new union of love between two souls.

it’s only when he pulls back, breath mingling with yours, eyes glued to each other, his hands paused on your thighs, body slotted between them, that he realizes…

you’re his wife.

it’s his wedding night, and you’re here as his wife, his life-long partner. the woman who he’ll stay with through sickness and good health, and vice versa. the woman he’ll have children with. the woman he’ll grow old with. the woman who he’ll be buried with, his skeleton cradling yours until enough time has passed on earth where you two are nothing but a faded memory for your future generations.

his wife.

his wife who’s currently laid out in front like an offering to him.

yeah, he’s breaking the bed.