The Perks of Being Part of Multiple Fandoms @the-divergent-demigod - Tumblr Blog

My home will be a home with no loud anger, no explosive rage, no slamming doors or breaking glass, no name calling, shaming or blackmail. My home will be gentle, it will be warm. It will keep my loved ones safe. No fear, no hurt and no worries. I may come from a broken and twisted place but I will build something whole and safe. I’ll sing in the shower again, cook with a smile and dance in all the rooms. I will heal.

toastbutteregg

a lot of us will reblog this and think “wow i need to check on people” or “i need to make people feel loved” but 99% of us will end up not doing it because we are not used to doing it and it’ll be weird for us to start doing it out of nowhere

BUT everyone needs support, love and understanding. not because a person looks happy does it mean they no longer need help. lets all reach out to our loved ones by at least calling them hi or checking up on them. its not too late to make a good change. sure it might be weird in the beginning but trust me, they will see that you care and it will make not only their day but possibly also their life

and it can even change others to start checking on their loved ones

butterflybabbyy-deactivated2023

Breaking the reblog button

phantomrose96

Hey yall I had a fuckin thought

So, as it’s roughly explained, the state alchemist program is a kind of “recruit potential human sacrifices” mechanism, with a side-order of “brute strength for the army”. But basically, the state alchemist title is mostly about being a researcher–given people like Shou Tucker exist, and given that the only requirement to stay a state alchemist is to submit a yearly report of your research that says “look I’m still being a useful scientist”.

So far, so far this is sensible, yeah? Father and the delightful children from down the lane are running a recruitment program for potential human sacrifices. So sure–butter them up! Give them lots of money, get them buddy-buddy with the government, and give them endless resources for research. It’s be pretty easy to trick a state alchemist in that position to open the portal if Sugar DaddyBradley is nudging them to do it.

And I’m still willing to go with this logic for the whole “draft the state alchemists into war” move. They make it pretty clear that was something of a last-ditch effort. And the blood transmutation circle around Amestris was an absolute necessity for Father’s plan. So the risk of a few state alchemists dying or resigning from your Potential Sacrifice Pool is worth it for the completion of the circle.

Now. To get to my fucking thought.

Edward fucking Elric. This fucking fight-me 12 year old troglodyte shows up to the exam and performs circle-less transmutation in front of mother fucking Bradley, demonstrating to one of the seven Actual Fucking Homunculi that he’d already opened the portal. Ed was literally prepped as a human sacrifice before he showed up to Central. A fully set human sacrifice showed up at the homunculi’s door, said “hey look what I can do!”, proved he’d opened the mother fucking portal already, and said “hey yeah hire me”. Human sacrifice, free shipping, no assembly required, handcuffs not included!

They could have just tossed Ed into a shoebox and kept him there until the Promised Day. They wouldn’t even need to make up an excuse he attacked the f u c k i n g president. That’s fucking treason babey. He’s 12, he’s an orphan, he’s from a rural town in buttfuck nowhere, he’s literally the easiest person alive to disappear. They could have arrested him for assassination crimes, kept him in gay baby jail, and just popped him out for the Promised Day

What do they do instead?! “Oh lmao this kid’s great. Let’s give him infinite money, no supervision, no governmental responsibilities, access to all our secret resources, and toss him on a train to who-the-fuck-knows-where-land”

They fucking did that

And like? They then had the audacity to be concerned when Edward “Fight Me” Elric almost got himself killed about 293 times. Just an endless game of “I thought u were watching him” from one homunculus to another when Ed fucking absconds half-way across the globe to go entice some other hostile entity into murdering him to death. That’s the whole series. Every arc is Ed baiting death while the homunculi are in the background like “:/ wish he wouldn’t do that”

This only gets worse when you consider they later learned Al opened the portal too because really?? These two stab-happy globe-trotting public menaces are 40% of your final evil plan for godhood. 40%. Almost half. You couldn’t fucking set aside a cardboard box to keep these idiots in?

We all knew Father was terrible at planning when we learned his thousands-of-years-in-the-making-plan involved him procrastinating until the last five minutes to get his last sacrifice, while he was?? playing chess in his fucking basement, I guess. But it’s like every time I think about it like really think about it I find 7 more reasons Father was a fucking shit idiot moron, king of the stupid fucking idiot club, flesh and blood founder of seven other established dumbasses, all living in their idiot hovel under central, just giving random dumbass 12 year olds infinite money, j u s t b e c a u s e.

phantomrose96

People in the replies trying to explain Father’s actions fall into one of three categories

Father didn’t baby-gate Ed because humans are like ants to him and he had no concept of how thoroughly Ed and co. could fuck his shit up

Father and the Hot Topic Brigade didn’t lock Ed up because they recognized the unbridled chaotic 12-year-old energy compressed into such a small vessel and they understood no jail cell on earth would reliably hold this thing

Father and his sin-sonas didn’t put Ed in a box because locking Ed away in their lair would mean dealing with Edward Elric day-in and day-out in their own home for the next four years and frankly even godhood isn’t worth certain flavors of hell.

blueberryborderline

tbh the worst thing about being a self aware mentally ill person is that people assume that because you understand your illness you’re automatically able to actually apply your knowledge to your life and cure yourself

mossdftba

Do I know my brain isn’t making the most sense right now? Yes. Can I stop it? No.

thebrothersjonas

writing conclusions in papers is like the stupidest thing ever though like what’s the point of dedicating an entire paragraph to “so yeah i know you just read my paper but this is a summarization of what you read in case you need to be reminded about what you just read” like why can’t the paper just end

field-thistles

I keep seeing this post and similar ones, and if y'all’s teachers and professors have left you with the idea that a conclusion is a summary, they have failed you in a big way.

Your conclusion is your “so what’s the fucking point” section. You’ve given you’re reader a lot of info and now they need to know why they care. Depending on the type of paper you should be giving a plan of action, explaining how this knowledge changes our understanding of the topic, link your paper to other disciplines, suggest further areas of study, etc.

One of the best pieces of writing advice I’ve ever received is that if you can’t envision yourself dropping the mic and strutting off stage at the end of your conclusion then it’s probably not strong enough.

inspirelocked

“So whats the fucking point” is more helpful than all 6 years I’ve probably been writing papers

elodieunderglass

Listen up, chucklefucks: I have a point to make.

Some shit went down. Here are the receipts.

Here is the tea.

^ Introduction, supporting paragraphs, conclusion: a basic essay structure.

bri-ecrit

There are three major things to put into any major essay:

The What

The “So What?”

And the “Now What?”

Your conclusion is the “Now What” — you’ve convinced your readers that they need to pay fucking attention to something, and now you tell them what to do next. It’s not just summarizing and wrapping up your main points for the sake of repeating yourself. It’s like the last five minutes of class where I’m reminding students of the big takeaways about what we learned and giving them the homework that reinforces it in a way that holds their attention while they’re trying to pack up their shit and get out.

belle-and-bowties

Would’ve been nice to know this while I was in school!

books-n-quotes

“I’ve always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.”

— David Benioff, City of Thieves

books-n-quotes

“I’m going to do what I want to do. I’m going to be who I really am. And I’m going to figure out what that is.”

— Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

books-n-quotes

“There are things that have to be forgotten if you want to go on living.”

— Jim Thompson, The Killer Inside Me

0x00009f

do you ever feel embarrassed to be in your own skin like please just dont look at me i wish i didnt exist sometimes like i want to disappear because i cannot handle being me

fourthell

im starting to irritate myself with my poor mental health like damn can a bitch just keep it together for a minute

books-n-quotes

And it is strange that absence can feel like presence.

Ally Condie, Crossed (via books-n-quotes)

heavyweightheart

the line between not going out as an act of self-care and not going out as a symptom of depression is but a gossamer thread

pr1nceshawn

Charts And Infographics By Stephen Wildish.

vesperasparx

How is it that this makes me feel uncomfortable and pleased at the same time?

poemswords

#scary how this resonates with me so badly #reminder

batmanisagatewaydrug-deactivate

reblog if you’ve ever been horrified by your own Customer Service voice

c-bassmeow

she is so FAKE

#sad but true

writingsforwinter

The Morning After I Killed Myself

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.

The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.