a true life event

Mental illness mostly caused by life events not genetics, argue psychologists
Mental illness is largely caused by social crises such as unemployment or childhood abuse and too much money is spent researching genetic and biological factors, psychologists have warned.

[W]hile there has been some success in uncovering genes which make people more susceptible to various disorders, specialists say that the true causes of depression and anxiety are from life events and environment, and research should be directed towards understanding the everyday triggers.

This should come as a surprise to no one. Genes don’t just express themselves without an adequate environment for their expression. If there’s a set of genes that, for example, reduce serotonin production in response to stress, there’s almost nothing you can do about the gene, but you can remove the source of stress.

I think one reason psychologists have refused to accept this position (it isn’t new, or even that extreme, although it is radical in the sense of “getting to the root of things”) is that it demands an analysis of the social conditions that lead to mental illness. In addition, the corollary of “mental illness has social causes” is “society can and must be changed”. Most psychologists have no interest in analyzing society, let alone asking for it to be changed (most of them make good money just handing out prescriptions). If you can blame DNA, or the human brain, you never have to step outside of your patient or even recognize that they actually exist in the social world.

Palmistry 101

When reading palms, whether your own or someone else’s, these are the main things to consider:

  1. Which hand is dominant? For right-handed people, the left hand gives information about inherited characteristics and potential, while the right hand reveals the development, character, and life events. The opposite is true for left-handed folks!
  2. Quality of lines and their points of intersection. How strong or fine are the lines? Are they straight and long, broken and twisted, etc.? 
  3. The directions of lines, which mounts they occur on or near, and their influences.
  4. Shape of the hand, fingers, nails, and mounts.
  5. General demeanor of the person and the hand. 


Each line has its own meaning and depicts a certain course of action in a person’s life. Lines come in all shapes and sizes. Not everyone has all six of these lines, although the first three are always present (the fate line is usually present as well). 

  • Heart line: emotions, insecurities, marriages, dependence and independence, the nature of your relationships.
  • Head line: intellect, reasoning powers, prospective career paths, potentials for success.
  • Life line: pattern and quality of life, physical vitality, stability or imbalance, will power and logic, not necessarily the indicator for length of your life.
  • Fate/Saturn line: strengths of character, career, friendships, life’s daily problems, and general ability to succeed.
  • Mercury/Health line: health matters, business and adventure, the spirit of discovery.
  • Apollo/Sun line: utilization of creative energies and potentials for success through development of talents.


The mounts are fleshy cushions underneath each of the fingers. These mounts carry the same name as the finger they are under. Below are the different character and personality traits associated with each finger/mount.

  • Mercury: Pinky. buoyancy, shrewdness, wit, spirit.
  • Apollo/Sun: Ring finger. compassion, love of beauty, artistic abilities, potential for success.
  • Saturn/Fate: Middle finger. seriousness, cautiousness, gloom, superstition.
  • Jupiter: Index finger. leadership, honor, ambition, spirituality/religiousness.
  • Lower Mars: Below pinky. moral courage, self-control.
  • Upper Mars: Below thumb. resistance, coolness of spirit, calmness, courage.
  • Venus: Thumb. benevolence, affection, humility, passion.
  • Moon: sentimentaliity, imagination, self-centeredness 


These are just a few of the figurative markings that are commonly seen on the hand. They add meaning to the lines or mounts they are near.

  • Branches: emphasize strengths.
  • Breaks in lines: emphasize weaknesses.
  • Chains: signify obscure goals, inclinations to deviate.
  • Crosses: signify upheavals, violence, struggles, and blunders.
  • Islands: indicate delays, injuries, and problems.
  • Stars: emphasize luckiness.

*** I will be posting more about palmistry soon, including more detailed variations of the lines and mounts! In the meantime, feel free to ask me about your palms… sending me a picture would be AMAZING :~)

Love is a feeling or a decision?

Okay…I was just scrolling on tumblr and I saw a post that said “Love is a feeling, not a decision.” And my immediate response was, “Um..that’s false.” But when I clicked on the comments, people were agreeing that love is in fact a feeling and not a decision, so I would just like to throw this unpopular opinion out there.

Love is a feeling for about a month, and a decision for the rest of your life.

If love was just a feeling, divorce would never happen, it would be strong enough to sustain relationships. You’d fall for every guy who whispered sweet nothings, who’s taller than you and has a nice smile.

Love is not something that you feel. You FEEL euphoria, you FEEL joy, you FEEL excitement. You CHOOSE love. After the excitement wears off and you realize you don’t like the way she/he chews, or you don’t like that he swears a lot or whatever other little thing they might do that gets under your skin, you have to CHOOSE that you still want to be with this person in spite of their quirks.

Hollywood has fed us this idea that those feelings of joy and excitement are all that love is. And that some big dramatic event happens that ends in tears and a loving embrace is true love. But that’s not life! When those big dramatic events happen, you usually want to die. Or you want to be alone. Or you question your relationship. Love is not “Oh I feel good around this person so I must love them!” No no my friends, love is the grunt work. It’s staying together in the valleys so you can get the peaks, can I get an Amen?!

This idea that love is just a feeling is why relationships aren’t lasting. Why we all give up so easily. Because if we don’t FEEL it anymore, then it must not exist. If we don’t FEEL it, then it must be over. This rhetoric is killing lasting relationship which is what many of us want and desire.

Now I’m not saying that you should have no emotions with the guy or girl you’re with. You should feel happiness and sparks and all that jazz, but just know that that is not all that love is. And when sh*t hits the fan, it’s not the sparks that will keep your relationship afloat.

This, of course, it my personal opinion.. what do you guys think?

Haechan: do you want to listen to MJ??

Mark: I don’t think I have a choice

  • Person who doesn't listen to a certain group: I don't like their music :)
I Get So Weak

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Angst, Drama

Summary: Request fic for @rocketginger. “hi can you do a gee x reader fic where gee has his lowest piont (drugs, booze,) and reader is like gonna help him with his struggles and fluffy stuff happens”.

A/N: I decided to make this a Band Member!Reader fic. Hope that’s ok. Oh, and trigger warning for alcohol/drug abuse, obviously. 

You’d been hanging out with the other bands of Warped Tour, enjoying the warm summer sunlight on your skin as you drifted between the throng of buses. But, soon it was going to be My Chemical Romance’s turn to take the stage. You knew you needed to stop procrastinating and start getting into your performance clothes soon. Those bulletproof vests made you look cool, but, damn, they made you overheat fast.

I’ll do my makeup first, you decided as you swung open the door of your band’s tour bus.

“Anyone seen my hand mirror?” you called as you ascended the stairs. You began looking for it in your bunk, but you didn’t see it.

Maybe Gerard borrowed it to do his eye shadow, you figured. You didn’t think anyone else was on the bus, because nobody had answered you when you shouted. You walked over to Gerard’s bunk and pulled open the privacy curtains.

You were surprised to find Gerard laying on his bed. At first, you thought he was sleeping, but then you noticed his vacant eyes were open.

“Hey,” you greeted him. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

He didn’t even blink.

“Hey,” you said again. “You ok, Gee?”

Then, you looked down towards his lap, and saw your hand mirror sitting there. Its surface was streaked with lines of white dust. Beside it was a half-empty bottle of vodka.

“Fuck,” you swore, realization dawning on you. “Gerard, is that what I think it is?”

Keep reading

When you leave your little alone while you sleep for too long
  • Little: Mommy
  • Me: *sleeping*
  • Little: Mommy
  • Little: Mommy
  • Little: Momma
  • Little: Momma
  • Little: HEWWOOOOOO
  • Little: *grunts* fine
  • Little: *stomps downstairs and plays in mommy makeup, giggling and singing*
  • Little: Me a pwetty princess! Me a pwetty princess. Meeee wuvvv-
  • Little: ...
  • Little: *rubs all kinds of stuff on her face and smiles happily*
  • Me: *wakes up*
  • Me: Good morning prin-
  • Me: ...
  • Little: ...
  • Me: baby oh my god
  • Little: ...
  • Me: I was asleep what did you do
  • Little: ...
  • Me: *licks my thumb and tries to wipe some of the makeup off*
  • Me: honey... wha... why?
  • Little: *giggling*
  • Me: baby, why'd you put mommy's makeup all over your face!?
  • Little: ...
  • Me: ...
  • Little: I pwetty!!
  • Me: -_-
The Adventure of the Chipped Glass

ENFJ: Your glass is chipped. You should throw it away.

INTP: It’s my favourite glass. And it’s been chipped for like two years. 

ENFJ: Seriously? You’re going to cut your mouth on that.

INTP: I could just drink from the other side of the chip. It’s not even sharp anymore from going through the dishwasher so many times.

ENFJ: Seriously! I’ll buy you a new set of glasses.

INTP: You don’t have to …

ENFJ: Or I can file it down and fix it with superglue, if you’re that attached to it.


ENFJ: You can’t just drink out of broken glass.

INTP: I think it’s okay.

ENFJ: No, it’s not. You can’t use that glass until it’s fixed. Just … let me fix it. I can’t believe you’re so irresponsible.

INTP: … 

ENFJ: How would you even survive if I weren’t around?

INTP: *there’s more to life than survival, lovey*

anonymous asked:

Should I watch the new Marston film? Christie Marston (grandaughter of William Marston) just said on Twitter that the film doesn't reflect the true life events of her grandfather. Also a the director stated in a Vulture article that she took liberties with the film.

I’ve heard from people who have read scholarly books on Marston that it ABSOLUTELY does not reflect true life events, it takes a LOT of liberties.

Honestly? I’d still go see it. As a historical document it’s clearly nonsense but it’s not claiming to be a documentary, and as a movie it’s awesome. And it’s not like every biopic ever doesn’t take liberties with the story; peoples’ lives don’t generally make good viewing because they don’t have a rising action and climax the way a story does. 

I mean yes, by all means, feel free to educate yourself about the real Marston and Elizabeth and Olive, who were amazing people. But the movie is enjoyable as a movie, regardless of other considerations. 

New ˗ˏˋ BUZZFEED UNSOLVED ˎˊ˗ Tumblr Fan Blog! 

Hey, ghouls! The bois are here!

I’ve created a Tumblr fan blog dedicated to the wonderful BuzzFeed Unsolved (2016 - Present), a hilarious (yet informative) YouTube series which explores, investigates, and theorizes real life unsolved events of both True Crime and the Supernatural! 

I will be both creating and reblogging Unsolved content! Expect to see daily GIFs, Fan Art, Memes, News, Theories, BTS content and more!

I’m also accepting requests for GIFs, so click here to send them!

Reblog to let other BuzzFeed Unsolved fans know!

chocolapeanut  asked:

“How can anyone not be afraid of love?”, Mahaad + Atem? 。◕ ‿ ◕。

From this meme: [X]  

Send me two characters or more and a prompt and I’ll write you a short fic a long mess, how did this happen???

(I was planning to put it in a read more line but idk it doesn’t show on tumblr mobile so… just scroll down the block if you don’t wanna read it)

It’s very rare that he asks Yuugi for anything, not wanting to interfere with his life. But he couldn’t help it, he finally had some clues on what he was, on who he was, on why he was in the Puzzle. He just… he had to make sure it was real.

So he asks Yuugi if he could do something, go out and relax in his body, and he obliges with no hesitation. Encouraging him to take his time, and actually threatening him if he switched control too soon. He asks again if this could be private, and Yuugi is fine with it.

So here he was, at the museum, standing before the tablet again. A tablet of friendship created by a high priest, Isis said. One that had apparently been close to him.

He wonders how much of that was true. It’s just one tablet, one event in his life (one he couldn’t remember).

“You’re interested in Ancient Egypt?”

He turns to find a man leaning against a pillar. He was tall, a little taller than Kaiba, and had long black hair. Hair so dark and silky it looked violet against the light.

Usually he would be wary of strangers, especially those who ask him about Egypt. It was always a theme in their lives that anyone who’s interested in Egypt and approaches them were not nice, to put it mildly.

But this was a museum, and he supposes it was a normal question. Considering he was a teenager staring at an Ancient Egyptian artifact intensely.

“Of sorts,” he says, observing the man some more. Blue eyes, not as vibrant as Anzu’s or intense as Kaiba’s, but still striking in its own way. Like looking into a calm river. “Things related to Ancient Egypt frequently appear in my life,” an understatement, “and it wouldn’t hurt to know more about it.”

The man hums, looking at the tablet then at him. He suspects that he’s looking at the carving of the pharaoh, perhaps comparing their similarities.

“Any questions you wish to ask?”

He blinks.

“I know a lot about Ancient Egypt,” the man says. “I can give you plenty of obscure facts about it. For instance, did you know that onions were considered an aphrodisiac?”

He snorts at that, knowing from Yuugi’s memories that onions were a pretty common ingredient for many dishes. “We must all be horny as hell twenty-four-seven.”

He probably shouldn’t be talking to a stranger this much, this was still Yuugi’s body. And it wouldn’t be good if they met the man again, only to find Yuugi and not him. Yuugi’s friends were enough, he shouldn’t intrude in his partner’s life any more than he already has.

(but it was nice to talk about things that weren’t life-threatening, and it felt nice to be not the Other Yuugi for once)

“Perhaps,” the man says, smiling. “Priests were forbidden to eat them because it might raise their libido, and they wouldn’t be able to perform any of their sacred duties.”

“I take it you like onions, considering this is your opening line to convince me of your Egyptian expertise?” He raises an eyebrow, turning completely towards the stranger. He looked around the same age as Pegasus (though really, most people looked older than the multimillionaire manchild). He was wearing a grey cardigan and black slacks.  

It was fascinating how plain and simple the man looked. Yet at the same time, not. There was something about him, beneath the mellow and approachable appearance of the man, he felt there was a kind of… flair to him.

Like something magical.

“I love anything with onions in it.”

“You’d be a horrible priest, then.”

“There were ways around it,” the man says, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Rituals to purify one’s self. Priests weren’t saints, after all.”

“I’m sure there were people who’d still say you’d be a horrible priest.”

“I can think of at least one,” the man chuckles, laughing at some inside joke only he was privy to.

He thinks of Shadi who had barged into people’s soul rooms and even changed them to suit their needs. He thinks of Shadi who had given the Eye to Pegasus when he was obviously grieving and emotionally vulnerable. 

He thinks of himself, the first weeks of being out of the Puzzle, punishing Yuugi’s classmates with no hesitation.

Shadi could be considered a priest, couldn’t he? And him… he was a pharaoh, someone who should be above priests.

“None of us are, some less saintly than others,” he says, giving himself a self-deprecating smile. He turns back to look at the tablet, eyes roaming through every symbol and image on it. He had assumed that Isis and her clan would be the only people who knew about the history of Nameless Pharaoh, but considering this was part of an exhibit - and the fact that people like Pegasus, Sugoroku, and even Ryou knew parts of it? It seems a bit silly to think it was some kind of secret.

“Can you tell me anything about them?” He asks, pointing at the two figures above his supposed self and the priest.

The man tilts his head. “Not about the one that looks like you? I would have been curious about that.”

So he did assume he was interested because of that. “I’m,” scared of finding out what kind of person he was, “more curious about them. They look a lot like two Duel Monsters I know.”

The man hums, walking towards the tablet. He was beside him, looking up at the tablet, seemingly unaware of how the teen stiffened in response of their sudden change in proximity.

“I don’t know much about the dragon, only that she was incredibly steadfast and strong,” the man says. “I know more about the man above the pharaoh, he was one of his high priests.”

A high priest, like the one who ordered this tablet to be made? Did he have an item then? “So he couldn’t eat onions too?” He jokes.

“No, much to his dismay, it didn’t stop him though.”

“Much to his dismay?” He raises an eyebrow. “Are we talking about him or you?”

“Why not both?” The man shrugs. “Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Right,” he snorts, looking at the details of Dark Magician in the tablet. So did that mean his monster had been a priest? Was Dark Magician even the person depicted in this tablet? “A high priest… what was special about him that he was carved here?”

One could say that perhaps it was because he was his ace. Kaiba had Blue Eyes White Dragon, while he had Dark Magician. But that was pushing it too far, even for him. This was something that happened thousands of years, he doubted they were carved because both were their favorite cards.

Even he had to draw the line with using fate as an explanation.

“Loyalty perhaps? That would be obvious. Protectiveness? It is depicting a battle, maybe he was one of his best warriors,” the man says. “But I would have to say love.”

“Love,” he repeats flatly.

“You don’t think so?”

He thinks of this tablet, one that was a symbol of friendship that he didn’t remember. This was the only thing in his past that didn’t seem to want to kill him, a symbol of love. He doesn’t know how to handle love, he never considered it was something his past had. “I’m… wary of love.”

“How can you be scared of love?”

“How can you not?” He shoots back. He thinks of Kaiba and how most of his world was his little brother. Thinks about how much he must have lost and taken just to give him a comfortable life.

He thinks of Mokuba, and how much of an unbearable and murderous brat he was before, because he had been drifting away from the only family he had and didn’t know what to do.

He thinks of Jounouchi, living with his drunkard of a father and still hoping they’d regain their father-son bond, willing to give all of his prize money from Duelist Kingdom, a nightmare of a tournament, for his sister.

He thinks of Otogi, who had done horrible things to Yuugi in hopes to make his father proud. He thinks of Ryou, who often looks in longing at passing families. He thinks of Pegasus, a man who couldn’t handle losing his wife well.

He thinks of Yuugi and the burn scars on his hands.

“How can anyone not be scared of love?” He wonders. “You have to endure, you have to lose, you have to hurt… all for love.”


“Some would say it’s worth it.”

“Do you think so?” He remembers how much Yuugi wouldn’t let go, remembers how Jounouchi was so torn between leaving the Puzzle behind and taking the risk of wasting time to bring the Puzzle with them too. He would have rather both of them left him, instead of slowly burning in that hell hole. “Love often means sacrifice.”

“You don’t like sacrifice?”

“I don’t like people sacrificing for me, love’s not worth it if they’re hurt because of me.”

“Many would say that sacrificing for a loved one is worth it.”

He laughs, forced and bitter. “And what if the loved one is hurt because of it? What it they forever think that it’s their fault? What if they wished you never loved them, so you’d never become hurt? What then? What if they have nobody else and you’re gone? What if they choose not to have anyone else so that nobody sacrifices for them ever again? Who picks up the pieces when your sacrifice breaks them?

More silence.

“… I don’t know.”

He laughs again. “That’s a bit selfish, isn’t it? That you wouldn’t consider the feelings of a loved one, even if you justify it with sacrifice.”

He thinks of Yuugi’s thoughts, the moment the Puzzle was put back together, he felt his partner’s desperation in taking him back. The mantra “I want to see him again!” playing over and over until he fainted. 

A selfish thought for a selfless act.

Love was scary.

He recalls what Isis had told him, about how he sealed himself in the Puzzle for the greater good. Sacrifice then, to keep his loved ones alive. He wonders vaguely if that high priest, the past incarnation of Kaiba, had been mad at him. That this tablet of friendship was more of a tablet of grief, of pain, of anger.

That seemed more like Kaiba, in his opinion.

“Is that what you feel then?”

Have you been broken? Is what the man means.

He considers it, he doesn’t have any memories to know if he had lost people. If people sacrificed for him, if it had become too much for him.


Whenever Yuugi put his life on the line, whenever anyone put their lives on the line, there was something familiar about it that he couldn’t dismiss. Horror. Fear. Pain. Anger.

Resignation. The quiet pleas of “No, not again” echoing in his mind.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “But, I sometimes feel phantom pains when I see someone I love hurt,” he touches his chest. “Like a thousand knives stabbing me all at once. I’m beginning to wonder if my sacrifice was more for me than for them, if I was just tired… if that was the only thing I knew, because so many who loved me sacrificed as well. It must have been normal.”

He doesn’t know that the man hears, doesn’t see the man wince.

“I’m sorry.”

He jerks at that, blinking. Then he laughs awkwardly. “What are you sorry for? You were offering me trivias and I was the one who rambled,” he places his hands in his pockets. “I should be sorry, I was wasting your time.”

“You would never wast-! … It was not a waste of time, I was happy to help,” the man sighs. He gives him a quiet long stare.

“… What is it?”

“You’re a duelist, correct? One of your decks is a Dark Magician one.”

He blinks, he didn’t expect someone to describe him like that. Most usually say things about him beating Kaiba or Pegasus. And then either running away or demanding a duel. Nobody has ever taken note what his deck was, except Kaiba (and that was usually because he was spending half his time trying to defeat it).

“Here,” the man holds out a card.

He takes it, widens his eyes at the title of the card. “Thousand Knives?”

It was a Dark Magician support card too.

“It’s an apology, for all the pain you had to endure,” the man says with a solemnity that he couldn’t place. “Let all the knives you’ve taken become a weapon against your enemies, not yourself.”


“I can’t-! This isn’t-!” He sputters, looking at the card. It was a very useful card, and something that appealed to him greatly. He imagines using this against monsters more powerful than Dark Magician. It was so tempting but- “I can’t accept this, you don’t know-”

The man wasn’t there.

“… Me?”

top 5 and bottom 5 kudos fic

tagged by the very lovely and talented @clarkescrusade ,whose fics you should check out if you haven’t already! 

rules: tag the person who tagged you, always post the rules, answer the questions, and add the date! (I realized belatedly that this said date and not no.of kudos but I already did it, so…. nvm y’all I’m a rebel)

What are your five most popular works? (in descending order)

1. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic (bellamy/clarke, 16k words, 1,493 kudos)

And this is how it always goes: she curses his ears to twitch all day, and he hexes her so bats fly out of her nose. She turns his morning porridge into concrete and he turns her eyebrows pink. They have Transfiguration together, and Mcgonagall makes them sit at different ends of the room, the only students to have been assigned seats.

Or; The rivalry between Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin is a thing of legends, but it doesn’t exactly stop him from making out with her either. 

I wanna be SURPRISED that this is my biggest fic yet, but not really tbh? Pretty sure that this is the fic that most people know me from, so yeah. You can’t really go wrong with hogwarts!bellarke progressing from enemies to friends to lovers and eventually getting into a secret relationship.

2. No Space Lies In Between (bellamy/clarke, 15k words, 1,289 kudos)

(She has to remind herself that smirking is not a good look on Bellamy Blake. It’s not.)

Or: Clarke Griffin moves into her ex-boyfriend’s apartment- mostly out of convenience, but also mostly to spite her friends. In retrospect, she really should have thought this through.

Ahh, my exes that are still in love, fic! This was really fun to write, and I think it was one of the first multi-chapters that I embarked on. Definitely was a little floored by the response, mostly because I didn’t think the exes trope was all that popular. 

Keep reading

True in all endurance events, especially life ….
Pain can be our call to greatness when we recognize that it’s our soul’s way of saying “This is not for you, keep going ….”

You are cold.
Cold like that mysterious cold.
The kind of cold that everyone wants to be around,
Because they want to know what’s under the exterior.
The kind of cold you want at your parties,
Because you know that them being there will be that much better.
the kind of cold that you know holds great advice if you were ever to need it
and if you were to end up having a doorstep conversation you’d come out of it with a new outlook.
You are cold,
My kind of cold.
—  A.K.