#thebrains

[kayotic-catgirl]

raise your hand if you think that celia ripley is currently being eaten alive by her own guilt, gutted by the shame; knowing that she's the reason sam may be dead now. regardless of her plan, sam tried to protect her from error knowing full well she was going to try to hurt him to restore cosmic balance. he still loved her despite it all. do you think that claws at her mind? knowing that even though she didn't act on her plan, she's still the reason why sam may as well be dead? do you think she'll grow to loath herself for what happened to him? will she ever forgive herself for the damage she thinks she caused? or will she break down sobbing the instant she tells alice what happened? does she see herself as one of the monsters in their cases now?

[revving-your-harley-up]

@thebrainsandbrawn The red she hulk looks at the jester. "So... Why are you in my apartment?" She asks

Harley was bent over looking at something in the bedroom before bolting up & faces the voice. Smirks, ‘Home early. Just a lil bit of casin & psychological profilin. Maybe snag a souvenir or two.’

[minyboy]

They're Pinky and The Brain, yes Pinky and The Brain, one is a genius, the other's insane.

[exocynraku]

what are your fave character dynamics or relationships (platonic, familial, romantic, whatever!) in snakingclan?

all of them really but…. hunde and katzen (siblings) & noonwing and floodeddawn (exes) i think about a lot!!!! probably once i draw the rest of the characters this’ll change x3

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @MAURICELAMARCHE #MAURICELAMARCHE #actor #LtDrewPratchett #Ellis #StarTrek #LowerDecks #MuchAdoAboutBoimler #TheBrain #Animaniacs #Futurama #RickAndMorty #Disenchantment #TheSimpsons #SolarOpposites #BigCityGreens #ScoobyDooandGuessWho #boxtrolls #AmericanDad

[eric-sadahire]

The brain is the most important organ you have...

according to the brain.

[wibble-wobbegong]

NEW ONE WHEAT MARK UPDATE THE BLOOD HEART IS SO CUTE

[copepods]

i am so bored and i dont want to write essays does anyone want to send asks about literally anything

[wyldwon]

If you could do anything you wanted in this life

What would it be?

Are you doing it now?

Why do you love it so much?

Why Not?

What is holding you back?

What is the next one thing that you could do to get you closer to getting there?

Do you think that you could convince others to love it like you?

It’s time

So I have the framework. I have the notes.

It’s time to get the work done.

The vision has arrived

I have waited

And i was rewarded

What would you have me do, Lord? Is this good?

Does it feel wonderful and nice?

Has The Holy Ghost testified to me that this is where I am to be?

#timewilltell

[femmefaggot]

i think it is so neat that rvd is one of ur interests cause it was one of my biggest hyperfixations for a long time!!! who's ur favorite character? mine is reggie mantle :-)

this is deeply dependent on many factors theres jughead in the brain so archie (gay way) and jellybean (sibling way) but cheryl is so fascinating i think it would have to be her. maybe ethel specifically during the gargoyle king era. honestly i think you could take any rvd character and put them under a microscope and study them forever theyre all so crazy

reggie is so good esp s1 reggie RIP (sort of)

[minyboy]

And Larry!

[thecpdiary]

Covid-19 and Changes in the Brain

"Multiple lines of evidence indicate that the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic has profound psychological and social effects. The psychological sequelae of the pandemic will probably persist for months and years to come. Studies indicate that the COVID-19 pandemic is associated with distress, anxiety, fear of contagion, depression and insomnia in the general population and among healthcare professionals. Social isolation, anxiety, fear of contagion, uncertainty, chronic stress and economic difficulties may lead to the development or exacerbation of depressive, anxiety, substance use and other psychiatric disorders in vulnerable populations including individuals with pre-existing psychiatric disorders and people who reside in high COVID-19 prevalence areas." - (Source: pubmedncbinlmnihgov)

"The impact of the Covid pandemic may have been so deep that it altered people’s personalities, according to research. Previously psychologists have failed to find a link between collective stressful events, such as earthquakes or hurricanes, and personality change. However, something about the losses experienced or simply the long grind of social isolation appears to have made an impact." - (Source: theguardian)

Covid psychosis

I have been touched by mental illness. I couldn't go out for the first year and a half in the pandemic. My twin was worse affected than me, her personality changed. When you look at the pandemic, it's not hard to see just how much the decisions made by the UK government have fuelled a psychosis. It's also not difficult to see how the pandemic has changed mental health psychosis on a global stage. If you're on social media, you'll know how much people have been touched by it.

But Covid psychosis is not recognisable, it's not spoken about. I came across an article of a man's wife who had no history of mental health issues until she caught Covid and that sent her into a psychosis that she never came out of. She eventually went on to take her own life. (Source: thetimes)

But it's not hard to see how many people's mental health has been tipped into psychosis in the pandemic, with or without catching Covid. Her story is by no means unique. My family have also been touched by suicide.

Talk it out

Throughout the process, I've been able to talk about my feelings. I hope my blog helps you, as it continues to help me place things. It is a matter of putting the time in to read what I write.

For more inspirational, lifestyle blogs, please check out my site https://www.thecpdiary.com

[ed4wo-study-abroad]

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On World Brain Tumor Day, let's stand together as a global community to raise awareness, support, and hope for those affected by this challenging journey. 🙌

[stubbornlysoft]

Riding out of the city.

Lana pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, willing away the involuntary curl of her lips. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet. Instead, she exhaled slowly, letting her fingers drum lazily against the countertop before lifting her gaze to meet his.

"Biker gear, huh?" A glint of amusement flickered in her eyes, "What? No leather jumpsuit?"

She shifted her weight, propping an elbow against the counter and resting her chin in her palm, her expression thoughtful—like she was seriously considering the logistics of it. Not that she needed to think about it. The moment the words left his mouth, she knew she was already in. Not that she’d let him know that. She had some dignity—a little.

The way he had braced himself between sips of that godforsaken wine was almost admirable. 

“I don’t know, Sy…” she mused, dragging out the words like she weighed the pros and cons. Her gaze flicked toward him, “You seemed to enjoy the pasta well enough for a guy who has a lot to say about it.”

A slow, teasing smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe the wine was getting to her. Or perhaps the warmth came from being across from him, trading barbs like it was second nature.

Lana had to give him credit—he committed, even when it was a terrible idea, especially when it was a horrible idea.

And maybe that was what made this whole thing so damn tempting.

The open road. The kind of freedom that came with speed and recklessness, knowing you could just keep going.

She could tell herself that was the appeal. The thrill of it made her fingers twitch slightly against the counter. But if she were being honest with herself—if she let herself linger too long on the truth—she’d know it had more to do with him.

Because she didn’t want him to leave.

BUT — She’d already admitted enough this evening. And she wasn’t about to let that slip out, too.

"Alright," Lana exhaled, stretching her arms above her head, feeling the pleasant pull in her muscles as her sweater inched up slightly before she let them drop back down. "I'll bite, tough guy."

She moved past him deliberately, brushing a light pat against his arm. Her steps were slow, unhurried—because if she was going to agree to whatever chaotic scheme this was, she was damn well going to set the pace.

"If you want to be helpful," she called over her shoulder from the hallway, pausing just long enough to gesture toward the small cluster of houseplants perched on the kitchen window ledge, "you can water my plants for me."

She turned slightly, glancing back at him. "You can do that, can’t you?" The words were syrupy as she tilted her head. "Without breaking the pots? Or drowning them in the process?"

She kept walking, letting her fingers trail lazily along the wall as she disappeared down the hall, leaving him to accept his fate or argue with the space she’d left.

For a second, her mind flashed with a desire—to spin on her heel, cross the apartment, and finish what he had started in the middle of that sidewalk. The thought came to her so suddenly she had to grab the doorframe to make sure she was still tethered to reality, that she would keep walking and not give in to the impulse to go back to him right now, and—

Lana let out a heavy breath through her nose. Get a fucking grip, she reminded herself.

The temptation had caught her off guard in a way that she had been trying so hard to push away. She shut the bedroom door behind her, trying not to think too hard. But how could she not when the memory of how his mouth had felt on hers was imprinted on every sense, every breath, and now every passing thought?

Focus.

She tore her eyes away from the reflection that stared back in her mirror, feeling something strange settle in the pit of her stomach. 

Rough. Hungry. That's how he had kissed her, as if the touch had unlocked something raw inside him. Maybe it had unlocked her, too, unraveling something at her center.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

Focus. You have five minutes to get a grip, change, and get back out there.

No, fuck that, turn around and tell him you want him to—

No.

Her eyes opened, apprehension rising in her throat as she crossed the room, pulling her sweater over her head and throwing it off with unnecessary force into the corner.

Her movements were sharp. She pulled a pair of jeans from her dresser, slipped them on, pulled up the zipper, and fastened the button. 

A reminder to herself crossed her mind: Shove questions aside when in doubt. Do. Focus on the action. Don't stop moving, don't fucking stop. You're a hunter. You protect this city. You stand by the law and do not break it. And if you do break it, you sure as shit don't tell anyone about it.

Her arms rose as she pulled a red cotton shirt on, smoothing it down, shoving a random pair of boots onto her feet.

Crossing her room to the closet—she ran her hands along a leather jacket she had owned for years but had not worn in months. A gift from Ca—

No. No. She ripped it from the hanger and slid her arms through the sleeves. 

Focus. For god's sake, do not think about that.

She yanked a knitted red scarf off a hook.

Keep moving. Don't stop. Stop moving, and you might freeze. If you freeze, you might never start up again, not in the cold, and certainly not when-

She paused at the bedroom door.

Is this rational? Is this smart? Are you doing the right thing? What if—

She pushed the door open.

What if what?

The air caught in her lungs.

Stop. Don't think about what-ifs; they'll make you hesitate. They'll stop you, and once you're stopped, it's easier to lose momentum, to break, to stutter, to get crushed under—

 "Alright." The word fell from her lips almost unconsciously. Her tone was steady and calm. Like she was trying to reassure herself.

Her hand dropped away from the wall, her boots clicking across the hallway floor, tying her hair back as she made a beeline for the front door.

Don't hesitate, don't freeze, don't stop and—

Lana pushed the barrage from her brain, forcing herself to act normal, unamused, unaffected—as if none of it bothered her. She leaned a shoulder against the entryway arch and tilted her head toward the kitchen. "So," her mouth tugged upward in a slight smirk. "Let's go. Before this poison takes effect."

Continued from this. closed rp w/ @sylus-hds-7213

Some time later, Lana straightened her sweater after switching on the dishwasher, reaching for her glass of wine—the driest, cheapest chardonnay that had ever disgraced a bottle. A gift from a co-worker ages ago, in one of those half-hearted holiday exchanges. A part of her wondered if that was all she was worth—a discount dinner bottle shoved in a gift bag at the last minute. She took a sip. 

"This wine tastes like shit."

The words slipped out before she could stop them, but honestly, there was no point in pretending otherwise. Still, she grabbed the bottle again, pouring herself half a glass like sheer stubbornness alone could improve the taste. Apparently, she was a masochist.

She felt Sylus watching her from the kitchen island. His presence alone was unspoken commentary. She didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smirking, probably about to open his mouth and make it worse.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, taking another reluctant sip. "Don’t say it," she warned, lifting a finger in his general direction without even glancing at him. "I cooked for you, so whatever smartass remark you’re about to make? Swallow it like you swallowed the pasta."

Lana groaned and turned, setting the glass down a little too hard on the island. "Look, I already committed. I opened this garbage. It was a white elephant gift, and I refuse to let it win."

She reached for the small succulent sitting in the center of the island, pulling it toward her. She pressed a finger lightly against the soil—her movements focused. Because if she focused on this, she wouldn’t be forced to focus on him and try to come up with more things to talk about. 

Her fingers idly traced the rim of her glass before she finally looked up, holding it aloft. "I’ve been sparing you for the last hour, by the way." A slow smirk tugged at her lips as she tilted her glass toward him. "From this. You’re welcome."