#that one church we went to when i was in middle school because they always played scenes from it over the projector for easter service

[tiny-sassy-aggressive]

After watching We’re All Doomed, the comedy show by Daniel Howell, I need to take moment to write out how that show made me take a step back in my own life and evaluate progress and positive growth in my life as I realized that his timelines/feelings could be foiled in a meaningful way to my life. I was particularly inspired to write this while watching the scenes on the screen of the moments of joy people were experiencing. I swear I had chills and I started to tear up. As he spoke about not only embracing the void, but finding the courage to exist, but not just exist, but to live and find those moments of joy, I was reminded about how that moment in searching for why life was worth living was how I came (back) to Catholicism. I don’t intend this post to encourage others to or away from the Church. I simply was inspired by Dan to share how I got to a place of accepting that life is worth living and how I hope to move forward.

I want to first tw cancer, death, feelings of not wanting to exist, and mentions of suicide. Nothing is explicitly discussed in great detail but only mentioned. I have never written out my story before, barely talk about it even to this day. Tried therapy a few times but it wasn’t for me, but that’s neither here nor there. This is a safe space for me to share something I just wouldn’t with family and friends. Though, I must apologize in advance, like Dan, I talk/write way too much so this will be a very long post.

Thank you to all those who take the time to read my random story and I hope to hear from others how Dan’s story and/or show have affected you so we can share in those feelings as a community.

I am chronically depressed and anxious. Always have been as it runs in the family. However, the problem was my parents, or really, I should just say my mom because my dad was never around in an emotional capacity that mattered, didn’t necessarily believe in mental health. Sure they knew depression and anxiety were real, but those were just emotions people felt and there wasn’t anything to do but continue on and try your best to keep going no matter what. It’ll be fine, just keep moving and working, right? Well when I was 12/13 I was getting bullied really badly. It got to the point where I was having panic attacks before going to school, crying at night, constantly feeling nauseous, and worst of all, I would refuse to leave my moms side, so school got to be pretty difficult. My mom was fully aware of what was going on so she went in immediately and got the bullying handled (as much as she could, middle schoolers are brutal. It never really went away but it was less of a nuisance) but she did not understand why I still felt ill and didn’t want to leave her side. She found me a therapist and I went twice. I knew we had financial struggles and I started to feel better so I stopped going. I was still sad and scared but those were normal feelings, right? I could go to school and play my flute, talk to friends, and sure I was writing songs about being trapped in a cage and having no one hear my screams but I was just an edgy teen, I wasn’t depressed. That’s just me being me. No mental illness here! I’m fine. Spoiler alert- I was not fine and it was only going to get worse.

When I was 14 I found Dan and Phil! I was a huge o2l fan so I followed Connor Franta and he posted Internet Trivia with Dan and Phil and I absolutely fell in love with them and fell down the rabbit hole of their channels and the gaming channel. I loved them both but I definitely had a bias towards Dan because he wore all black and was edgy. Watching Existential Crisis for the first time gave me a phrase to the weird feelings I had. Both affirmed and disproved the fact I was mentally ill but I still didn’t have the words for it so I just thought I was mentally different from other people. Watching that video back with all the context of 2024 and 2024 Dan, that video covered an extraordinarily heavy topic but he never mentioned the word depression or mentally ill because, at that point, why would he? Since he was the only person who voiced those feelings that I also shared, I took them to heart, but I could only take those words to heart as I had no reference to infer what else all that meant. So I kept all my feelings to myself. After all, this guy said he had all these big feelings but was fine. Call me naïve, I was 14, so I believed I could be okay and still feel existential. It was normalized, plus nothing else in my life was being affected, I was doing well in school, I had friends, I had hobbies, I was fine. How could I complain?

A few months after the start my freshmen year of high school, my older brother was diagnosed with leukemia and everything changed. He was sick and had to stay in the hospital for months, one of my parents would always be at the hospital, and me and my little brother would visit on the weekends when we could. My mom really stressed the importance of keeping a normal schedule so we did. School, extracurriculars, piano, just keep moving and everything will be alright. I didn’t cry, I couldn’t cry. I had to remain okay, fine, an unbreakable force because I couldn’t have anyone worrying about me because we all had to worry about my brother. Which we did! I never wanted to be a burden or not okay because I wanted all attention and time focused on his wellbeing. I don’t remember talking to anyone about anything emotional. Sure as hell not my parents. Not my brothers. Not even my friends. So I watched videos and removed myself and all emotions from my being so I didn’t have to think or be.

When he was first diagnosed I felt lost and confused. So I did the one thing my private, catholic school taught me to do. I found God and prayed. Except, I can say certainly looking back, it was not a meaningful relationship I created. It was one forged in fear, confusion, and a misunderstanding of how to pray. Ironically, for a catholic school, they didn’t know how to teach someone to come to God, they just expected you to understand, but that’s beside the point and a different conversation. But that’s what I did! I prayed, every morning and night, Lord, Please heal my brother. Please. Tried devotionals I didn’t get, muttered words I didnt understand, and played the part. I watched everyone else around me do it so I did it too, to the point where I believed I needed to be perfect or else my prayers would fail, which, I cannot express enough, was not the appropriate mentality, but that’s what I thought was necessary.

About 7 months later, my brother was in remission and he came home! He was okay! We got through the summer, he came back to school, we were in band and choir together again. It was fun!! We were all okay again. The dark spots in my head were still there but they were probably just left over from how scary last year was. How could I not be happy with my brother back home and alright again. At this point, my prayers were answered so I slowed down my prayers. I was okay so I felt as if I did not need my relationship with God as intensely anymore because I felt fine. Plus, when I was sad or scared those were just normal reactions that were not taking over my life so why dwell on them.

In 2017, Dan released Daniel and Depression. And I don’t exactly remember my reaction. But at that point in my life, I remember coming around to the idea that maybe I was not as mentally sound as I thought. But even listening to what he had to say, I was still convinced I was not depressed, I was just traumatized from what had happened to my brother and to my family. I had spent that time living through hell and I never stopped, I did not lay in bed wallowing, I didn’t not brush my teeth or not take care of myself. I was a high functioning nearly straight a student through and through. I was not depressed.

I don’t know why that was such a dirty word for me. Or maybe it wasn’t a dirty word, but it was something I didn’t want associated with myself. My school didn’t believe in mental health because all you had to do was pray and “you can’t be depressed and be with God” - Which by the way is completely inaccurate and harmful for young people to grow up learning. On the other hand, my parents lived in a hospital with my sick brother for months, I shouldn’t be depressed or talk about the weird sadness I was experiencing after everything they went through. It’d be selfish of me to not be alright.

Two months after Dan posted his depression video, my brother got sick again, the cancer came back. I prayed fervently once again. Knowing it worked once it could work again. Every morning and every night in the depths of my dark room where no one could see or hear because everyone else in my family was not religious or was too angry at God to believe. I put it on myself to pray and to be good so he can be healed again. But I failed. He died 4 months later on my 17th birthday. Years later, a therapist would tell me that happened because he didn’t want me to forget about him, well jokes on the therapist I was never going to forget anyway. I failed, it was my fault he died. If I prayed more, if I was a better person, if I just focused I could have saved him. But I wasn’t enough, I was not good enough to save him. This wasn’t true, of course, nor how religion/prayer works. But I didn’t know what else to do or think. So I blamed myself. I wasn’t even there when he died. My parents told my little brother and I that he wasn’t ever coming home and a few days later, on my birthday, we went to school and when my dad picked us up from school he drove us home and my mom was sitting there and that’s when I knew. My little brother was so cute, he later admitted he just thought my mom had come home to see me for my birthday but I knew immediately. I still don’t know how my dad just picked us up that day and didn’t say anything.

A part of me died that day. How could it not have? It was a strange night. We cried. I ate a pre-bought cupcake. My brother went to lacrosse practice and the next day we both went to school. Because that’s just what we did. We just kept going. Let me tell you, you’ll get the strangest looks from people when they see you at school after they just heard over the loud speaker that your brother had died the previous day. Because really, what were we doing there? We were the highest functioning traumatized students you had ever seen. I was only 2 minutes late to my first class of the day, math. I went to the chapel in the school with my really close friend to cry and listen to adoration music and just wonder why, why, why? 2 minutes wasn’t too bad, the teacher was surprised to see me and I failed the math quiz we had. She was nice, she offered to not have me take it, but I was already there and it was math quiz time so I took the quiz. She let me redo it too. She was nice, I needed it. It felt normal so I felt fine.

And that was all the rest of the 2018 school year was. Fine. Went to class, studied, did my extracurriculars, performed in all the shows, hell, I even went to prom with said super close friend from earlier. It was obvious I was traumatized and sad but how could I not be? But I was doing everything a normal student would be doing so what was the problem?

The problem was I felt alone, hell, I was alone. My family was broken, shattered into a million a pieces. My dad was distant, my mom cried, my bothers and I weren’t talking in any meaningful way. I talked to one person, the guy who held me in the chapel the day after my brother died and who took me to prom. I loved him, we loved each other. He was the only person who I felt actually saw me. I always had some barriers up but I felt free with him and I know he just wanted me to be okay even in the midst of tragedy. We were friendly for 2 years but we got close right before my brother was diagnosed again. Those months meant so much to me and I thought we would always be close. But 1 month after my brother died. He told me he did not want to continue our relationship or friendship. He said I was too much to handle or had too much going on. In all honesty, I don’t remember his exact words because I most definitely mentally blacked out. And he broke what little part of me was left.

(About 2 1/2 years later he ended up calling me and after not really speaking to him at all since that moment, I picked up, more out of curiosity then trying to rekindle anything. He told me that, unbeknownst to me back in 2018, he went to our Moral Theology teacher (yes- private catholic school) to ask for advice because he saw how much pain I was in and he did not know how to help me. Instead of this teacher, a literal adult, going to our schools counselor, my mother, or even me and addressing this 17 year old boys concerns about ME, he told him that he should just give me space because of the mental weight of the tragedy I was living through. His advice to this boy was to essentially isolate me. Looking back, I do feel bad for this boy. He tried so hard to do the right thing for me but didn’t have the right directions. And on the other hand I am so mad at the teacher because that was the worst advice he could have ever given ever. Thanks! Real talk though, I loved that boy and he always meant the world to me. We didn’t keep in touch afterward that 2020 conversation but I kept tabs on him through mutual friends and he always listened to my music on Spotify. He went through a tough time and he committed suicide in 2022. I really do miss him and wish things were different for all aspects of his story, my story, and what might have been our story. It felt wrong to exclude his memory in this post because he truly played such a crucial role and he meant so much to me even years later)

Back to 2018, after he abandoned me. I was completely and utterly alone. And now, I feared opening up at all to anyone because I didn’t want to be perceived as the burden I truly was. So I swallowed every once of trauma, depression, and anxiety so I was perceived as a functioning, fine, human being who didn’t need anyone to worry about her. I didn’t want anyone to worry or care for me because they thought I was fragile or broken because I now had proof that I would become too much to handle and that anyone would just leave me just as he had. And that was it. I smiled, I laughed, I spent the next year completing every senior year milestone and graduated high school. And I didn’t feel one emotion. I was fine.

Summer 2019 was when things started to shift a bit and here’s where I think the foiling begins. For one, Dan had just released Basically, I’m Gay and he started to live his truth being out of the closet. I truly don’t want to nor feel like I can comment anymore on this topic because that was his own personal journey and I don’t want to speculate on anything he said. He did so quite clearly and explicitly. But the point I am making was that in the middle of 2019, he began living his truth. This one thing he didn’t talk about that is so quintessential to his character was now a public part of him and he got to experience that joy of being out. There was a shift in his character, anyone who watched his video could tell, he was happy, he seemed excited. He went to pride, did promotional videos, and he just seemed like he was living in a brighter light. It was beautiful to watch and I’m grateful he let us share in those moments of joy with him.

Before I get too deep into this section, I want to preface and state that I do not remember large chunks of time between 2018-2021. All the trauma and depression have made me forget nearly everything, and it’s a very weird sensation to have little to no memories of 3/4 years of time. I can recall general feelings and most memories I can see are from a third person pov so I can see what was happening, but I see it happening to me, not me actually experiencing the memory.

For me, summer 2019 meant leaving for college. Now, in hindsight, I made a major error. I was going to the same college my brother had been at before he died. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I thought it was a good idea but the school gave me money so I would have been a fool to take on more student loans than necessary, plus, I knew I wanted to transfer the next year and move half way across the country so I had an end goal in sight, just had to get through the year.

I also started to go to church again. There was a cute little church about a half mile down from my school so it was an easy walk. I don’t consider this change/new addition a mistake, but I do often wonder what was I thinking exactly. I don’t recall my exact process but remember two dueling trains of thought. For one, I still 100% felt weird about religion/God because I blamed myself for my brother dying because I wasn’t praying enough and wasn’t good enough to save him. But on the other hand, I did not feel right to never enter a church again and a part of me wanted to return because it felt like the right thing to do. I spent my entire formative years at a private catholic school. I knew all the prayers, scripture, the saints (I was confirmed taking St. Rose Philippine Duchesne), and my senior year religion class was dedicated to teaching us how to explain/teach the faith to non-believers. And I believed in all of it! I had faith, so how could I not be going to church. Call it guilt, or whatever you want to call it, but I couldn’t turn my back on the church after everything I had learned so I went back. It was the truth I believed in and the truth I wanted to live by. I told myself that eventually I would just feel better, I’d continue to pray to heal and keep going through the motions until it stuck. At this point, I had fully embraced the void I was living in. I accepted that I was depressed, I accepted that I was depressed long before the trauma began so I was battling undiagnosed depression alongside the after effects of the trauma, and I accepted that I am an incredibly anxious person. That was alot for an 18 year old to take in but I finally accepted what my truth was. I admit it and that’s the first step right? I know I am mentally ill so I started some therapy, and I continued going to church and praying because every thing I read and was told said those were the best things I could do to help myself. So things could only get better from here, right?

Not necessarily. The end of 2019 flew by and before we knew it we were in the throes of a global pandemic. Within 3 months in 2020, my parents divorced (finally), my grandmother died from the same cancer that my brother had which was sick was twisted if you ask me, and my mom, little brother, and I moved half way across the country. Oh and I transferred colleges in all that too. Besides every single bad thing we experienced, moving was supposed to be our new start. A new place, new schools, new adventures. No longer living in the state with every bad memory we had or the house we essentially grew up in. It was new and fresh, almost the perfect situation to start a mental health journey in, besides the recent trauma I still don’t think I have processed fully and a global pandemic. I just thought I would be getting better.

I remember the part of We’re All Doomed when Dan mentioned 2019 being so important because he started to live his truth and I felt so similarly. I thought once I accepted what was going on in my head I’d feel better. But then 2019-2021 for both of us seemed to be one of our worse times mentally, which is oddly terrifying because of the emphasis that was present on wanting to feel improved.

Between 2019-2021, I struggled with the concept of existing. I did not understand why I was here and others weren’t, what I was meant to do, and why I was meant to do it. I didn’t want to exist. I simply didn’t have the energy. I couldn’t conjure up emotions, nothing real anyway. I just felt nothing. I never felt suicidal, never did anything to harm myself, never wanted to. I knew and continue to know that I never wanted to die. I really just wanted to feel quiet, numb, not of the earth and those are very scary feelings. I could barely put them into words for when I talked to my therapist but I tried, but all she could tell me was to find distractions for myself. Distract, distract, distract, well that’s all I’ve been doing and I don’t feel better. I listened to music, wrote music, talked to my mom, pray, do my class work, scroll through social media, but what then? When alls said and done, the music is off, the conversation is over, the work done, the phone turned off, I was left with myself and I didn’t even recognize her. My mom said she saw a light in my eyes she hasn’t seen in a while but I had no idea what she was talking about. Whatever was on the outside wasn’t being transferred to the inside because I didn’t even know who was staring back at me in the mirror. I just knew she didn’t want to be here anymore. So what now?

When Dan showed us the calendar with the little emoji emotions over the days of the month, I swear my heart stopped for a moment because it reminded me of what I started doing for myself during that same time period, that very same year he was referring to in the show. I had downloaded this app, Hallow, it’s a catholic prayer app. Scripture, guided prayers, saints stories, the whole nine yards. I liked the little guided prayers. Helped me focus I guess. And every night I’d ask for the same thing. To feel better. To be healed. It also had a little section where you could track your mood for the day so I started doing that everyday. I wasn’t thinking too hard about it I just hit the emoji I felt and moved on. Until I started noticing a pattern of hitting, sad, anxious, worried, or unsure. Soon enough I had months upon months, just days filled with those same emojis. When I actually took a step back, just like Dan did, to stare at how my months were covered in little sad emojis it broke me more than I thought it ever could. Was this all that was left for me? Days that left me feeling dejected and dark? Why wasn’t anything I was doing enough to make me feel better, to make me feel something for my life, for this world around me. Every night pleading the same questions to God, why, why, why? Just begging to be healed.

One day in 2021, I felt hopeless, I was tired, drained, and I truly did not know what to do. I just wanted to feel. So I stopped begging God to fix me and I started talking instead. And I talked and talked about everything and nothing all at once. I told Him about my day and what had happened. I told Him about the little anecdotes, my classes, the walk I went on. I told Him what I felt during the day, the big feelings and the little feelings. As I recounted my day and all the little details, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I felt lighter. For the first time in a long time, I was not focused on the big scary black hole of my mind, the void, I spent time talking about what my day had looked like and what I knew was on my schedule for tomorrow. It grounded me. And it was just that. I wasn’t focused on the void, I was focused on the living I was doing despite the void and there was something beautiful about that realization I have never been able to put into words until I watched Dan’s show. God was not not healing me because I did not deserve it or because I was so helpless, for it was only when I was at my lowest that I let myself let go and speak freely outside the confines of asking for the same thing over and over again without changing my mindset. It was only through those open ended conversations that I found and was confronted with the events of my life, no matter how big or small. The void, my depression, my traumas, whatever I want to call them, they are always going to exist, they are a part of my and I can’t change anything about that. But my life, my 24 hours a day, that time will pass regardless of if I choose to dwell on the darkness or not, so might as well spend my time enjoying the light that clearly exists as well. So that is what I started to do.

It is a choice that I have to make each day when I wake up. To decide to be an active participant in my life rather than a passive bystander. But like all things, it’s an attitude that can be learned, adapted, and over time it did not feel like a chore to make that choice, but a pleasure. For once, I started to look forward to the future and excited for what I could do. I found a church where I could attend mass so I would stop sitting in my room and watching online, I started to push myself to make plans outside my comfort zone and learned to not just like my own company, but enjoy the silence of being alone. The one project I am particularly proud of is my second Instagram account dedicated to romanticizing my life. Everyday, for now nearly 2 1/2 years, I have posted a photo on that account of the places I’ve been, clothes I’ve worn, and experiences I have been on. It’s my own personal photo diary proving that I have been living and that I will be continuing to live.

Photos and daily reflection have been the cornerstone of my improvement which was why that segment of Dan’s show impacted me so greatly. Each small clip he shared was probably only a second or so long but each moment held such great joy and emotions that could not be contained. It was and will continue to be a reminder that there will always be moments of joy and moments of happiness that will exist even in the face of adversity, we just have to work to see them, and choose to accept them as our own. Some days can certainly be harder than others, but after years of feeling nothing but the heavy weight of despair, even just the memories of joy are enough to encourage me to move forward. I’m alive for a reason and I believe and trust in God’s plan for me, so I choose and, now, feel empowered to continue on.

Dan was right when he said that we are all doomed. And there is this void in my life that I have learned to embrace and not just ignore. But this life was not meant to be survived, but to be lived. And I, now, have the courage to choose to live everyday.

Thank you to @danielhowell for sharing a part of yourself with the world. For creating a show that encourages us to acknowledge every part of our lives, the good, the bad, the ugly, and to show the importance of embracing every aspect of our lives while we continue our journey. Thank you for encouraging me to share my story and my journey through mental health. I have never shared my story like this before and it has been an unbelievably cathartic experience and I feel renewed in my promise to continue to choose to live.

Thank you🖤

#dan and phil #dnp #daniel howell #dan howell #danisnotonfire #dan and phil renaissance #we’re all doomed #embrace the void #have the courage to exist #embrace life #finding purpose #catholic #catholiscism #mental health #mental illness #how to be a human being #we aren’t alone #thank you

[doppel-dean-er]

a question that's always bugged me is: how do the Community characters make money?? we never get to see them working in the early seasons, yet they all somehow pay for their living areas. so, here's where I think the Greendale six work! :D

ABED: possibly the easiest and the hardest, there are a couple options: his dad's falafel business would make sense, but he might wanna distance himself from his dad, since he doesn't support his chosen career path, I think he likely does work in a kitchen somewhere, (1) because of his previous experience with it and (2) because it requires less people interaction than other jobs.

ANNIE: also has a couple options: in seasons 3/4 she would be a hospital receptionist so she can get a feel for the field she wants to pursue. before that, I can see her working as a tutor for middle/high school students. maybe a coffee shop? definitely not Starbucks though, like a locally owned one.

TROY: laser tag. He applied because he thought working there meant he got to play laser tag and get paid, and when he got the job he just decided to keep it even though he doesn't. firmly believe it also has an escape room or two, and every time they change the puzzles they have Troy run through them, because if Troy can do it, so can a child (he doesn't know that, he just likes doing the puzzles).

JEFF: Jeff refuses to be seen working anywhere. what if he runs into one of his old lawyer co-workers and they see him???!? I think Jeff would work at a call center, and convince the callers that "actually, you like your computer better like that." or "did they really mess up your order, or did they give you something better: an experience?"

SHIRLEY: I once went to this record store that was directly above a church, the floor literally shook with how loud the guy yelling "JESUS CHRIST! THE LORD!" and the Christian music was. I think Shirley works in a place like that, and says it's because "no one who isn't Christian could stand being in there for too long."

BRITTA: Britta sucks at holding a job, but she's good at getting hired. we know she both worked as a bartender and at Shirley's Sandwiches, but before that, she probably had like ten different jobs at various fast-food places and the like, before getting a job at a rad anarchist book store, which was the longest she ever held a job (and it was only like six months).

(bonus: Chang mugs people)

#nbc community #community #abed nadir #troy barnes #jeff winger #annie edison #britta perry #shirley bennett #headcanon #headcanons #ben chang

[aropride]

small talk is as uncomfortable for me as it is for the next guy but i think there's a lot of value in understanding it- maybe not the actual conversations themselves, and not even liking it, but understanding the intent. because allistics don't go into small talk with a mindset of "man i HATE this guy i want to make them SUFFER by asking about their WEEKEND." most of the time it comes from a place of either obligation or of kindness. and also to be clear, i know this varies culturally, so disclaimer- this is probably very influenced by being a high-masking (with dubious success) autistic american.

but i prefer to think of small talk as an act of kindness rather than a painful obligation. it's used to fill silence (generally seen as awkward) or to invite someone into a conversation if they're alone (meant to be friendly). when i was in middle school i was in a youth group (awful) that met for two hours once a week. the first half hour was designated hanging out time while people filtered in, and then we'd go into games, then church stuff and then a discussion. and during the first half hour i'd always end up standing in a corner alone, usually by the snacks so i'd have something to do.

and every week without fail people would come up to me and try to talk to me. both small group leaders and other middle/high school kids. and being a severely anxious undiagnosed autistic kid this would terrify me and piss me off because i didn't understand why they were doing it. because it felt like an imposition- yeah, i was lonely and wanted to talk to people, but i didn't necessarily want to talk to anyone specific, and it felt like they were being condescending or pitying, and i wanted to be left alone.

but to an allistic person, what i was interpreting as condescension and being put into an uncomfortable conversation, was to them a gesture of kindness. because most allistic people as far as i know wouldn't want to have to stand in the corner eating oreos every week they were forced to go to youth group. and they had no way of knowing that was my preferred option.

so we would have conversations that went something like this:

person i don't know: hi i'm jess, what's your name me (scared): hi i'm nik jess: nice to meet you nik! me (still scared): nice to meet you too (beat of awkward silence) jess (helpfully filling the silence): what grade are you in? me (realizing i have an oreo in my hand and wanting to eat it but i can't because i'm stuck in this conversation that feels like being put in a meat grinder): 6th 👍 jess: nice! whats your favourite subject? me (deeply aware of the oreo in my hand, aware that i am doing this wrong but not sure how, painfully aware of the unnecessarily loud music playing): english jess: fun! do you like reading?

And so on and so forth. it was uncomfortable for everyone involved and i could not figure out why they were asking me questions when they presumably didn't care and i didn't want to be there. and the first thing i was missing was that while they might not have cared about me as a person yet, that's what the small talk was for! so they'd get to know me more and then care what i had to say, or know that they wanted to talk to me more, etc. and the second thing i was missing was that while to me this whole ritual was sort of like being in hell being tormented by eternal hellfire, for everyone else this was normal and polite and most people would, while not enjoying the small talk itself, enjoy the thought behind it. what it's really communicating isn't a fascination with your thoughts about your classes but a "i saw you looked lonely, i have no negative feelings towards you, i'm offering my companionship and figuring out if we might be friends, as well as assuaging your discomfort with being alone"

basically it's a social script. and it's one that can be clunky and awkward (there are many memes on the topic) but that doesn't really matter to most people because the intent outweighs the execution. the words actually being said don't always even matter- "how are you?" "fine, thanks" type exchanges aren't really meant to communicate anything verbally- it's a nonverbal confirmation that you have a positive relationship with someone. which is why autistic people are often seen as rude for not engaging in it.

this is getting insanely long sorry it's just on my mind because i saw a post on instagram about how autistic people don't like small talk because it's inauthentic, and i don't think that's really true. i think that small talk can be authentic, and i think that autistic people don't like small talk because it's deeply uncomfortable for a lot of us. it's a helpful social script to understand conceptually, even if it sucks

#text #autism

[flickeringflame216]

@sliverswords i didn't wanna hijack Gracie's post because this might be somewhat of a long answer!

So, when I was in middle and high school I went to an all-girls Christian summer camp a few years in a row--the same camp I now counsel at. My cabin the year I was going into 9th grade was mostly church kids and we all wanted to do more for morning devotions than the little booklet they hand out, so our counselor told us "read through 1 Peter." At the same time, in our group Bible lessons, she was teaching us how to study the Bible in a way that I had never really done before. I remember realizing how much she loved the Bible, and how passionate she was about it, and at that point I didn't really know anyone like that and it shifted my perspective. Man, I wish I had my notes from that first really thorough read-through of 1 Peter! You know how people say the Bible jumps off the page at you? Yeah, that was the first time I had any clue what they meant. I was a pretty lost kid at the time, and dealing with some rough things at home, and the amount of hope in that little epistle was so foreign to me and so lovely. It told me that it was okay to go through hard things, and that it was even possible to rejoice in the midst of them--not because the pain went away, but because my joy doesn't come from a life free of pain. It comes from faith in Christ and from the living hope I have of growing more like Him on earth and being with Him in heaven. 1 Peter told me I had purpose, was part of "a chosen people," and to a kid who felt aimless, unwanted, and alone, being chosen by God seemed almost too good to be true. It told me there were expectations for how God wants us to live--structure and order were comforting too--but that He gives boundless mercy as well. Chapter 3 is one of those husband and wife passages that I still really don't like, if I'm honest with myself and with God. Let's just say I don't enjoy the idea of submission, to Him or to other people. But that passage taught me to wrestle with God, and that it was okay to dislike something and bring it before Him, as long as His will remained above my own. Cliche as it may be, the verse about casting your anxiety on Him because He cares for you hit extra hard, and I began to ask God to help lift my worries. Finally, it ended on hope again--the hope that God wouldnt leave me in pain, that He would restore life to me and make me "strong, firm, and steadfast." He is keeping that promise.

It's been awhile since then, and life got worse before it got better. But 1 Peter was a refuge I returned to over and over, and a reminder that hope persists always. The ability to hope--not a wish, not an emotion, but a choice and an action--is quite literally why I'm alive today. And I don't think I'd have that ability without a camp counselor who taught me how to study and a God who knew right when I needed His words.

Terribly long answer to a terribly short question! But, that's why it's my favorite book of the Bible.

#living hope #<- this is also the reason for that tag and why hope is so important to me in general #anyway I bared my soul more than I intended answering this question but. It was good to do that methinks. #silver thank you for asking <3 #1 peter #the bible

[the-sorcerer-shark]

ooga booga religous background pt 1

I said I would write this in my intro post so here we go, I will try to keep it short

PSA I dont hold any ill will towards Christianity itself, but my experiences with the people that call themselves Christian makes me weary

I was raised in a pentacostal church in a a very redneck area. It was the church that mothers whole family went to, and my great uncle was the pastor the whole time I attended. Some icky sermons or general themes and stuff I remember happening:

women had to obey their husbands and other 'stay in the kitchen' type stuff

no black families ever stayed around, everyone was racist to them

a whole sermon dedicated just to hating gay and trans people yay

everyone looked like i killed someone when i asked if halloween had any religious connotations

no one would answer me when i said 'why should good people that dont know about go go to hell?'

supported/dismissed sexual assault of multiple children (what the actual fuck bruh)

multiple members of the church refused medical care in serious situations because 'the lord would heal them'

lots of other things to really heebie your jeebies

I stopped going except for holidays around 10 when my mother and I moved to another state. My dad had always been the one to take my to church because my mother knew her family was nasty, and especially to her. I never particularly agreed with them even as a child but I did believe in the religion (or more believe that I believed).

We lived in the middle of the woods basically for the 2 years we lived in that state. At this time I started being allowed internet access (shitty mountain internet). Slowly over time I just kind of stopped thinking about religion because it wasnt something I participated in weekly. I did, however, become much more connected with nature and things. I also (through my pinterest scrolling) discover @hgk477. Being in the woods and also thoroughly enjoying those types of posts made me think about how like everything on Earth is living and all connected. I was still kept under the Christian influence by my mother and if anyone asked, thats what I was, but I didn't really believe it anymore.

We moved back before I started 8th grade because of the crappy schools there, and I basically just considered myself atheist or whatever until earlier this year. I had to take a western religions class to fulfill a requirement.

This post is very long already so I will go ahead and end this one here, and make a part 2 about my discovering of paganism and stuff.

#wicca #wiccan #wiccablr #pagan wicca #pagan #paganism #paganblr #pagan witch #witchcraft #witch community #christianity #religion #religious trauma

[brostateexam]

I am very grateful today to middle school me for picking Spanish and not French for a language to learn because when I went to tell my neighbors about the upcoming yard work (we are removing a tree that got damaged during the storm) they didn't speak any English and I was able to explain everything I needed to after I looked up the word for "backyard." It's "patio," which always makes me blink.

Living in this neighborhood would be a lot more daunting otherwise. Of my neighbors, one is monolingual, another only speaks the very basics. And then the other one is a very nice elderly church lady who lives in the church cottage that's diagonal from my house.

It's also nice to have met everyone. Only took me the better part of a year but whatever. Better late than never.

#a house of one's own

[arctic-hands]

I don't remember when I began to understand everything I--a culturally Christian white kid from Indiana who went to a Baptist church with a "Stand By Israel" sign but told us we weren't allowed to date Jews--knew about Israel was wrong. It probably wasn't one single "aha!" moment, tho it was prolly cemented by the raid on the Freedom Flotilla and executions of ten of its members. I remember I had an Israeli friend on an old poetry forum, and when I asked her about the raid from an Israeli perspective she said she was glad to answer because she was tired of Israel being demonized in the media and the "invaders" deserved it all. We stopped being friends after that. We were both seventeen-ish.

Anyway, what I do remember is having been concerned about the Darfur genocide (ongoing for twenty years now with a couple years of tentative pause until recently) since like two thousand and five, two years after it started, after Nick News with Linda Ellerbee did a story on it when I was in middle school. I was twelve-ish, and for many many years I tried to be an activist from thereon in. I wasn't a very good activist since I was just a kid, and one who was too sickly to stage meaningful protest anyway (I tried many times, but couldn't keep it up).

But I was always keeping tabs on what was going on in Sudan, and at some point it was reported on that Darfur refugees where headed to Israel for asylum. I remember reading this and naively thinking "Yes! Smart! Head to Israel, they'll understand!" only to read on and see they were being denied entry and even being deported back to Sudan. Out of the thousands of Darfuri who made their way to Israel, as twenty-fifteen only 4-ish (it's unclear from this headline how many of this 4 were Sudanese and who were Eritrean, the full article is behind a paywall) were granted asylum. And in September of this year, a month before this current war in Gaza, netanyahu ordered a plan for all African "migrants" in Israel to be deported, including those who fled violence and genocide, against international law that says you cannot deport someone back to a situation where their life may be at risk.

Anyway I'm having a hard time finding articles from the actual time Darfuri refugees made their way to Israel because it was over a decade ago and I don't remember the specific year it was first reported on. But here's an article from The Forward from September twenty twenty-three talking about how in twenty years of the Darfur genocide, Israeli concern for their plight has turned into general apathy.

Anyway, to end a depressing ramble, that had to have been the first inkling that Israel wasn't the bastion of peace, democracy, and compassion that "the Middle East lacked" like I had always been told, even by my liberal family members. The assault on the Gaza Freedom Flotilla just cemented it, I think, and the blockade on Gaza that the flotilla was in response to made me read into Palestine more and realize why an antisemitic baptist church had a "stand by Israel" sign.

(Also, all eyes on Sudan too, because the Darfur people are under genocide still and again.)

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

I am watching Daisy Jones & the Six rn, a fictional band which was really popular in the 70s but had a fallout and no one answered why, until 20 years later when they interview the band members and people involved with them, a documentary of sorts.

And I love that sort of thing.

So, idea: Bruce was a brilliant scientist and one day, he disappeared from the face of the earth (on the day of the gamma bomb test). They make a documentary about Bruce Banner in the 80s/90s.

None of his still living family members wanted to participate.

They pull in some other people.

Elementary school teacher: "He was gifted from a young age. Always on top of his class. Could read before he was four years old. But he wasn't really sociable. He didn't have any friends, no. The other kids quickly saw him as a target and ganged up on him."

"It was usually his mom who picked him up. Brian Banner, his father, was known to... Not be a pleasant person. A very angry and also insecure man.”

Former neighbor, “The neighborhood wasn't really a community. Except for church services, maybe. But yeah, you could hear screams from the Banner house very often. Mr and Mrs Banner went out a lot and the boy stayed with the Nanny. Highly unpleasant person as well. You didn't see her often but you knew that you just didn't want to talk with her.”

Bartender, “Brian Banner was a regular. Nobody liked him because he got really aggressive when drunk. And loud. He would often complain about his son, making claims about him being a monster. It was at these moments I was glad he was at the bar instead of at home.”

Former neighbor: “Rebecca did sport a black eye every now and then, no amount of make-uo was going to conceal that. Plus she wore long-sleeved shirts even in summer. She was a good woman. She didn't deserve what happened to her. But yes, the clues that something like this could happen were there.”

Reporter: “What happened?”

Police Officer #1: “We got a call. An accident with one person dead. We arrived at the scene and we all knew that this was no accident.”

Police Officer #2: “He was still kneeling beside her bleeding body. His hands, his face, his clothes, they were all covered in blood. I gave him a blanket, guided him away to our car. He didn't show any signs of emotions. But tears were running down his face. Suddenly, he said ‘She didn’t slip. "He killed her’.”

Police Officer #3: “I remember him. I couldn't ever forget that case. I was with him at the station while we waited for his aunt. He was sitting there all alone, wrapped in a blanket so I decided to get him a hot chocolate. You could see that he had it tough in life. There were bruises on his arms, some handshapped. I brought the hot chocolate over to him and he was holding out his arm. Was muttering something along the lines of ‘I can't find it’. I never understood it.”

Reporter: “You were his middle school teacher?”

Teacher #1: “Yes, I was.”

Reporter: “What do you remember about him?”

Teacher #1: “He was a real troublemaker. Not because of his grades, but he would cause scenes because he only ever wanted to work alone, which backfired multiple times. And his constant mumbling!”

Reporter: “Mumbling?”

Teacher: “Yes! He would talk to himself so often, even during class! And then he had the audacity to not even pay attention to the lesson!”

Schoolmate #1: “I was in the same class as him.”

“Ohh, yes, he mumbled to himself so often! Not even himself, his imaginary friend. Imaginary friend! We were teenagers and the guy still had an imaginary friend. Probably because no one else would willingly spend time with him.”

“Hulk. He always called him Hulk, yeah. Even wrote that name down in his notebook he always carried around.”

“He had this notebook and he would write in it whenever he could. Even during class.”

“I don't know what he wrote in it anymore. Some sort of equations.”

Carla, schoolmate: “He stepped in when Ken, the school bully, harrassed me. He didn't have to do that, but he did anyway.”

“Well, they… they beat him up. He had to go to the hospital. Broken ribs. But once he came back, he asked me if I was okay!”

“What I said? Erm, stuff I regret saying. I don't want to talk about it. We were teenagers and I had a lot to deal with already. I had my own insecurities and your reputation was really important back in school. It wasn't fair, yes, but I was just a girl.”

“He was a good person. Sure, he was weird, but he did not deserve to be bullied. Nobody does.”

Reporter: “How do you know Bruce Banner?”

Former college student #1: “We were roommates during college.”

Reporter: “What was he like?”

Former college student #1: “Smart. Passionate. Awkward. He was great at what he did, a real favorite amongst teachers. He studied with Stoddard, another gamma scientist. Stoddard was always jealous of Banner, because he worked much harder but Banner was the one who got all the praise.”

“It wasn't that Banner was lazy, he was just a genius who just instantly understood everything it seemed. When he had a problem, he would immediately try to solve it.”

Reporter: “How do you know Bruce Banner?”

“We were friends during college.”

“We had a study group in college and we would spend the weekends together too sometimes.”

“We were all nerds, which is why it was so easy to talk together. The rest? They didn't understand us. But we understood each other.”

Former college student #3: “We had fun sharing our interests, sharing knowledge, getting into rambles, going into hypothetical scenarios.”

Former college student #2: *rubbing the back of his neck* “What we would do in our free time together? Ehh.”

Former college student #3: “Drugs.”

Former college student #2: “It was the 70s and burnt out college students. I’m sure that’s all that you need.”

Former college student #1: “Once, I hadn't seen him for three days. I didn't think much of it until he came back. He looked really shaken up and spaced-out. Told me he was at a cafe three towns over. Apparently he had no idea how he got there and just walked back.”

“If he went to parties? Usually not. Except when he did. See, most of the time he was really timid. He was sure of himself, but still introverted. But when he did go out? The guy went all the way. Would even ask me if I wanted to come with him, which I declined. He was like a completely different person.”

Former college student #2: “We had a great time together. Parties were so fun! He really knew how to charm the ladies. It was like Clark Kent and Superman, one second an unassuming guy, the next, he knew how to read the room and what to say to people to get what he wants as if he could read their minds.”

Former college student #3: “Sometimes we would drive to a casino, he would make some money and afterwards we would get something to eat.”

Former college student #2: “And sometimes… Sometimes it seemed more like possession than a superpower. I remember one time we were in the car, mentally not 100% present and he asked really panicked ‘Where am I? How did I get here?’. And that whole confident demeanor? It was gone.”

Former college student #1: “Yes, this was not the only occurrence. Sometimes he would become… childish? He would talk in a few word sentences. I blamed it on sleep deprivation but when I asked him about it, he told me he didn't remember.”

Journalist: “What happened after Dr. Banner’s college time is mostly speculation. What we do know is that he tried to get funding for his research but was declined. As to what his idea consisted of, we have no idea. Eventually he would join the government and this was the last officially known thing about him. His contact with friends and family members became less and less. Of course, he had co-workers that would probably know more, but even the ones working with him are mostly classified and the ones we do know of were unable to be contacted. Eventually a missing person report was filed - and immediately closed. Did he die? Is he held captive? Did he see something he was not supposed to see? As of now, we don't have the answers. But there is hope that we one day will.”

#bruce banner #marvel 616 #marvel #marvel comics #marvel fanfiction #the incredible hulk #incredible hulk #hulk #gamma system #brian banner #rebecca banner #tw blood mention #tw death #tw past abuse #marvel au #earth 616 #616 bruce banner

[insomniac-jay]

Music Meister Backstory Headcanon

Until (and even after) we get an in depth backstory for my boy, I'm going with the one I made up

TW mentions of abuse

Music Meister was born Darius Benoit Chapel in Louisiana to Fontenot Chapel, a well respected pastor at the local church, and Lisette Chapel, a former Broadway actress, in the West Baton Rogue Parish. He had an unusual eye color, leading to whispers and rumors of cheating from the community, putting a strain on Fontenot and Lisette's already fragile marriage.

Growing up, Darius always heard stories of Lisette's days as a musical theater star and wanted to be just like her.

Lisette began teaching him how to sing, dance, and act; but his dad had different plans.

Fontenot was a very intimidating man who kept Darius on a tight leash (partially because he was still burned from the cheating rumors) to the point where it was borderline abuse. A Bible thumper who reigned over his house in a very biblical way (i.e. "Spare the rod, spoil the child") and strict way. Every time Darius harmed his father's image in anyway, he was harshly punished.

Fontenot did, however, allow Darius to sing in the church's choir for a brief period before he got kicked off.

In retaliation, Lisette had Darius join his elementary school's choir, where he excelled as a musical prodigy. A decision that both Lisette and Fontenot got into an argument turned physical altercation over.

Enraged at her husband and fearful for both her and her son's safety, Lisette and Darius ran away to her hometown of Houma to live with her parents.

As the story goes, Darius was picked on by bullies because he sang in choir, which led to him discovering his Metahuman powers.

In middle school, he joined both marching band and theater--much to Lisette's joy. Not for long, though, as Fontenot found them and threatened to take Lisette to court for kidnapping their son if she didn't hand Darius over to him.

Having no choice, Lisette gave Darius to his father. Back under his authoritarian household and put on an even tighter leash, Darius and Fontenot's relationship deteriorated into toxicity. To cope, Darius began getting into trouble as a form of rebellion by using his powers, gathering up a string of misdemeanors for petty theft.

Fontenot caught wind of this and used even harsher, more abusive punishments. I mean very abusive. Everything came to ahead when Darius found out why his father treated him so cruelly.

Darius and Fontenot got into a huge argument, causing the older Chapel to up slapp Darius so hard that his vision went white. This caused Darius to snap and use his powers on his father and made him severely injure himself.

Having nowhere left to go, Darius left Louisiana when he was 19.

#dc comics #darius chapel #music meister

[imaginarylungfish]

nothing is good or bad (or how i realized god still lives in my brain)

I grew up pretty Catholic. I don't know if my experience was extreme or not by others' standards, but to me, it felt pretty all-encompassing. My sister, mom, and I went to church every Sunday and prayed every day. I whole-heartedly believed I was born sinful, Jesus sacrificed his life for an unworthy lowlife like me, and I would go to Hell if I didn't behave in accordance with the Catholic teachings.

Looking back, it's all so absurd. How is there an imaginary man in the sky looking down at me and punishing me for being born? How did a man who lived thousands of years ago die on a cross and magically wash away the fact that I lied one day in 3rd grade? How is there a creature with horns tempting me to commit sins and lure me to a magically place with eternal fire? Like what?

It's funny because the thing that made me start to stop believing in "God" was sort of up to semantics. When my great grandpa was dying from cancer while I was in middle school, I had this prayer card from the Catholic store that said if I prayed it for 11 days straight, anything I prayed for would be granted by God. I, of course, didn't want my great grandpa to die, so I religiously prayed for those 11 days. A month later he died. I was crushed. I genuinely thought I could save him. I asked my mom why my prayers didn't work. She said it was because it wasn't God's Will. That broke my brain. What's the point of praying for something if this guy can just flip the script because that's just how he wants it? How was that fair?

Throughout high school, I still went through the motions of being Catholic (and even was confirmed), but I was skeptical. It wasn't until college that I cut ties with Catholicism and their "God" entirely.

It's been almost a decade since I've first questioned "God," yet I still have him in my brain. I thought by now, in 2023, his hold on me was gone entirely. But a conversation with my (now ex) partner nearly 6 months ago made it clear that isn't the case.

I was having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that what I thought to be the "best" in a situation was not objective. As in, it is no better to play video games all day than to go outside on a hike. Or delving deep into yourself and healing your traumas is really no better than just letting them be. It just depends on what you value and what you need in that moment. "There is no good or bad," my partner said, "it just is."

Yes, living is just living. Good and bad mean nothing other than what an individual person thinks. This made sense in my brain, but it didn't feel like a fully solidified understanding to me. I know I still unintentionally and unnecessarily assign morality to things based on my Catholic upbringing. Sex is bad. Tattoos are bad. Eating past when you're full is bad. Not being productive is bad. But why? By whose standards? Mine or the "God" that still lives in my brain?

After this conversation, I Googled some (secular) articles to analyze my thought processes. I knew I needed to expand my perspective if I wanted to integrate this new idea of neutrality into my way of thinking.

I came across a few articles written by William L. Mace Ph.D. on Psychology Today. The first was called "There is Nothing Either Good or Bad But Thinking Makes It So." In this article, Mace was asserting that everyone believes their way of thinking is the best, but it's not. It's just a way of thinking.

He talks about how people tend to gather evidence for our own way of thinking. When people don't align with our values, "we can always console ourselves [by saying], 'I may have lost to that deceitful so-and-so, but at least I came out ahead by holding to a higher ethical standard.'"

While reading this, I couldn't help but find my own self being reflected back to me. When I interact with someone who does something that doesn't make sense with my worldview, my knee-jerk reaction is to dismiss them. I rationalize to myself that they must just be morally inferior, right? I've done more self-work than them and they must just be ignorant. But on further reflection, isn't that just my ego trying to assert itself? Isn't that just the Catholic judgement I received as a child being spit back out as my own thoughts? There is no good or bad, no superior or inferior--things just are.

But realizing that is groundless. It's scary. I think, as humans, we want retribution for wrongdoing and reward for righteousness. We want punishment for sin and exaltation for virtue. (Hmm, sounds like a good basis to start a religion...) But that's just not reality.

In another article by Mace called "The Difficulty of Accepting Reality" he talks about how cognitive dissonance plays a role in our everyday lives. When we run into something (a person, a situation, etc.) that doesn't align with our beliefs, we have a choice to disregard the facts, re-adjust our own thinking, or blame something else entirely.

For example, when you're watching a movie that's hard to follow, you do your best to piece together the plot with the clues given and come up with your own interpretation of what's going on. In the end when everything is revealed, if you realize you were wrong, you can either dig in and assert you are actually right, admit you were wrong and re-adjust to the new reality, or blame the screenwriters for not making it clear enough. And there is no right answer. It's just your choice.

I was given these choices when I first broke away from Catholicism as well. After being exposed to more secular life, I realized there were some things that did not fit with my worldview of believing in God and following Catholic beliefs. I chose to re-adjust my views instead of insisting God is real. (This did not, by any means, happen overnight--it was a multi-year process of letting go and trusting my own beliefs over the arbitrary rules of the Catholic Church. Plus, it's an ongoing process.) Coming to terms with the idea that God does not exist is viewed as a lack of faith by believers and therefore I am labeled as "bad." But in my view, I am good. I escaped.

So, does that make those who still believe in God wrong? Is anyone right? My ego wants to think so, but I guess no one wins because there are no winners and losers. It's just life.

I am coming to my own conclusion that there is no better belief or way of thinking. Sure, there are codes of ethics enacted by societies. But those aren't facts. They're just collective agreements of conduct. Nothing is inherently better than anything else. Not everyone will think this way and that feels more okay to me than earlier in my life. I feel like through learning that nothing is superior or inferior, I can start chipping away at those old, deeply held beliefs from Catholicism in my mind. I, personally, don't want them there. I don't want a "God" living in my head anymore. I want more of me and my thoughts that I've cultivated through my own work, not some scripture shoved down my throat when I was 5.

Before wrapping this up, I do want to say, yes, for me, real damage was done by growing up in the Catholic Church. However, I don't blame my parents or guardians for raising me as Catholic. Nor do I think Catholicism is all-out bad (we literally spent an entire post on trying to eradicate that black-and-white type of thinking). I believe this runs deeper than mere individual fault. I know my parents thought being raised Catholic would be good for me and my sister. Even though I didn't ask for any of these negative consequences of my upbringing, here they are, and I want to do something about them, so I am not controlled by them any longer.

I want to internalize the belief that life is just life. Things are just things. There is no good or bad, no superior or inferior. There isn't much rhyme or reason to the events in my life or anyone else's. I am the one who can assign meaning to things. I don't want to follow an external set of rules, much less ones made by institutions that feed off of shame, fear, and ignorance.

If you agree or disagree or just want to see where this takes me, stick around. Thank you for your curiosity about my inner thoughts and reading this far.

-L

resources that have helped me process my Catholic trauma:

Leaving the Fold by Marlene Winell: this really opened my eyes to the distorted reality the Catholic Church puts forth as "truth"

Ex-Catholic Subreddit: it's reddit, so keep your expectations low. but there are some solid posts on there that help me remember it's okay that i'm still struggling and i am not alone. plus, the "sheep no more" motto makes me smile.

We're Having Gay Sex podcast: this has helped me learn sex and pleasure, especially queer sex and pleasure, is not wrong and is okay to talk about

Queer Sex Therapy: this has also helped me normalize queer sex and queer joy

exvangelical and non-religious friends: honestly, just talking with others who have been through the same shit as you have or see how ludicrous what you learned as a child was is super affirming

#exvangelical #ex catholic #personal post #personal blog #blog #blog post #thoughts #queer #catholic trauma #god is dead #ex christian #ex fundie #ex fundamentalist #apostate #religious trauma #religious deconstruction #deconstructing christianity #atheist #atheism #agnostic #agnosticism #religious recovery #deconversion #deconstruction #lgbtq #lgbt

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork in screenshots from footage included in Micky Dolenz Celebrates The Monkees (x).

“To the outside observer, I’m sure it looked as though I had succumbed to the extremities of a given culture. To me, I simply exhibited moderate good sense. Basically, I lived at a poverty level, scratching for odd jobs. I wore a beard, my hair was past my shoulders, and I was working in a restaurant, singing folk songs and waiting tables [see here and here]. I was playing piano and was in and out of various rock groups. I played lead guitar for a rock group called Osciolla [sic]. No records. I was in the bass section of the Fairfax Street Choir, a thirty-five member vocal group. I also fronted a group of my own and tried to make a demo, but it didn’t go anywhere. I had a job offer to come out here to Venice. I also worked as a high school teacher [see here and here]. The mass media has a tendency to distort. As long as capitalism remains the underpinning of society, what is good will always take a back seat to what will sell. General Motors isn’t concerned with making a quality automobile. Sears isn’t concerned with offering a quality television set. All that counts in a capitalistic society is selling. And to the mass media’s way of thinking, a picture of Peter Tork as a so-called ‘burned-out hippie’ with a beard and long hair implies a hopeless case who can’t lift his hand to his face to get his razor up and who has no interest except in stealing to support his drug habit. If that’s what sells, they’ll print that. The truth of the matter is, my primary concern was and is self-realization in a social setting.” - Peter Tork, Blitz!, May/June 1980

“‘It's what I call the Church of Three,’ [Tork] said. ‘You have a starting point that's essentially unitary, then comes the binary, the secondary phase, where everything is broken up and shattered and shot into millions of pieces. From there, you must have a dialectic. The third stage must appreciate and understand and value the first without undercutting and devaluing the second. It's no good just to talk about the positive. If the negative is there, you can't shut it out. For a while there wasn't any negative. Then it came into our lives in real ways, in ways we had to come to grips with. So, there we were, in the middle of stage two, shattered and broken, not believing in stage one anymore. Then comes stage three. This is where we recognize that there are times to slip into that primary mode and times when it won't do. If you insist on sticking to that mode, you're going to get your nose broken. And that's what happened. So there comes a time when, in full awareness of stage one, you behave through stage two, to get your stage three – a transcendent involvement of both stages.’ Specifically, stage two began at Kent State, when four students were shot by the National Guard during a protest demonstration. ‘When they shot them down at Kent State, that was the end of the flower-power era,’ said Tork. ‘That was it. You throw your flowers and rocks at us, man, and we'll just pull the guns on you. Essentially, the revolution, which was sort of tolerated as long as it wasn't a significant material threat, was not tolerated anymore. And everybody went “Ooops” and scurried for cover and licked their wounds. They became isolated – which was the point of it all. “Togetherness isn't going to get it” was the moral they tried to lay on us, because the less togetherness there is, the more room there is for exploitation. Kent State was an attempt. Let's try this and see what happens. And what happened was the shooting and vast inflation and a swing to the right – the moral majority. The whole thing was inherent in the situation. A certain amount of loosening up, a certain amount of extra leisure, and people are going to try to improve their lot instead of just barely hanging on. If you had a little extra you're going to try to make everything better. And if you see that your own happiness, or the lack of it, is tied in with the sadness of your neighbor, you're going to start feeling communal. And that's going to expand until the crunch comes. As long as people are educated to believe that isolated self-interest is the only way to go, when the crunch comes they'll withdraw from each other. And only now, in the faintest glimmerings, do I see any sense that people are realizing that togetherness and flower power alone won't get it. It's got to be togetherness, flower power, plus a willingness to do something pretty stern from time to time. If you're not willing to behave sternly, people who won't stop short of stern behavior are going to keep on going. It's taken a while for that message to sink in.’ It's obvious that Tork was a true believer and ironic that he, of all people, should have been a cog in the plastic Monkee machine. He took the sixties to heart, and if the failure of the sixties took the heart out of him for a while, he hasn't let that failure break him. ‘You've got to struggle over the material,’ he said. ‘The struggle involved in keeping those people who want what you've got from getting it deprives you of the time to really be yourself. Instead of struggling to keep things out of everybody's hands, if you give what you've got – as Jesus said – if you give away what you've got, life unfolds for you. And the Catholic church would have us believe that heaven doesn't happen until after the death of the body. But I report differently. I report that heaven is an experience available in this life. And it comes from giving your shit away. If you give away your heart, your life, your soul, your goods, and live as close to the bone as you can prudently do, and don't worry about next week, if you live as close to that level as possible, you will find yourself as happy as possible. If you put your faith in the future, you're going to be chasing something all your life. Put your faith in the present; it's all right.’” - When The Music Mattered (1984)

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #70s Tork #Fairfax Street Choir #Osceola #Release #Peter Tork and/or Release #<3 #Peter deserved better #also always so much respect for Peter's unflinching honesty in interviews #Tork teaching #long read #screenshots #1970s #The Monkees #Monkees #love his mind #1970 #The Great American Food and Beverage Company #Blitz! Magazine #When The Music Mattered #can you queue it

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

Round 3 Poll 4: Rev. Green from Cluedo vs Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men

Propaganda:

Rev. Green:

1) Literally just a random board game character 😪 2) Ok so basically here’s the deal. One day, about a year and a half or two years ago, I saw some random thing related to Clue online. I (dual U.S. American and Russian citizen, because I was born in America to an immigrant parent, I PROMISE this is important) was confused because among the cast of characters was “Mr. Green”. Now, I hadn’t played Clue in a very long time. It wasn’t my favorite game as a kid, my only memories of it were wanting to play as Ms. Peacock and then my brother taking her and making me pick someone else, but I was pretty confident the character was Reverend Green. What happened? Was he excommunicated?? I kind of figured the name was just changed to reflect a more secular culture and that I had unknowingly played an old copy of the game as a kid.

But it fascinated me. So I spent months on and off researching the topic. (poorly, might I add, it wasn’t a complicated issue. But still.) I found out about many changes from version to version. Clue Junior, Clue VCR Mystery, Clue Master Detectives, all of it. And the whole time, Green was there to greet me in each new version. It was the first thing I always checked. Was he Mister or Reverend? I found out in one version he was a defrocked priest turned businessman, and in another a scam artist who pretended to be a member of the clergy to pull of a scheme. Closer. I ran polls, I went to irl Clue events, and eventually I found what I was looking for the whole time. Green was a Reverend in the 1944 patent of the game, and the subsequent 1949 U.K. release of Cluedo. But, because of fear that U.S. Citizens would take issue with a member of the church being suspected of murder, Parker Brothers changed the name to Mister Green for the U.S. release.

That all could have taken me five minutes of googling, but honestly the chase made the result so much more worth it. And yet, there was something more there in the back of my mind. This all was well and good, but why was I so sure of the U.K. version of the name? My father’s family is Irish so we have a pretty healthy hatred of all things British, there’s no way my dad would’ve had us play that version of the game. Right? But thanks to a response from a poll I ran, I found out that the German version also went with Reverend. Because Green is an Anglican, I kind of assumed that the U.S. change might have been carried over into other international releases. But no! That made me realize that Mister Green is an outlier and that almost all languages of the game use Reverend. So then last night the pieces finally clicked together. I asked my mom to confirm a hunch I had, not expecting her to at all remember something this trivial. Like I said, I didn’t play it much as a kid. Maybe we didn’t even own a copy, and I had just played it at a library or a hurricane shelter or a relative’s house or something. But she remembered. We did, in fact, own the game. Not just any version, but a RUSSIAN COPY. I unknowingly grew up with Cluedo! So I had every reason to believe it was Reverend Green and be confused when I heard otherwise.

Tl;dr, minor version difference between Russian and American copies of a board game gave me a hyperfixation and a blorbo.

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

#12 angry men #cluedo #clue #juror 8 #rev green #round 3 polls

[prolifeproliberty]

As a kid, I was homeschooled by my parents until 3rd grade, then I went to a co-op for 3rd-6th grades, and then put in a public school for grades 6th and 7th (we moved in the middle of my 6th grade year) and then I went to a private school for 8th grade and high school.

Public school was definitely the worse, as I was innocent and naive at public school, got bullied a lot. I was over-performing in all areas except for math, but even that I had a better time with than most kids. So homeschooling and co-ops were definitely better than public school.

but I had a hard time with homeschooling because I am so extroverted, and it didn't change at the co-op either because it was all guys in my grade there, so I was pretty lonely in my childhood.

I really liked private school because it was Christian and the teachers cared and it was smaller, so basically everyone got along with everyone for the most part, and I was able to develop good friendships, and our school always out performed the public schools in the area.

I just think that homeschool shouldn't always be the go-to option, but I understand why a lot of parents choose it, especially if they live in a liberal area, where the woke stuff won't change much from private to public. But, if a parent has the option, they should look into private schools, where the environment is a lot better, and has better education. But if private school isn't an option, then co-ops are definitely the way to go.

Idk this is just my take 😅

Private schools definitely can be good, and I went to private school for my entire education. But some private schools have even been infected with the woke crap, and some are so concerned with being state accredited that they turn into expensive public schools…

If parents want to do private school, they need to REALLY do their research.

Thankfully today there’s a lot of “in-between” options, including micro schools and “a la carte” type schools.

In my area there’s a program called “One Day Academy” with multiple campuses, where each campus only operates one day a week (they rent space from churches and other community buildings). Parents can sign their kids up for individual classes, including things like theatre that otherwise would be hard to do in a homeschool setting.

So when I say homeschool, I don’t mean you have to do everything at home or even with a co-op. There are just so many options now, and as homeschooling/parent-directed education grows, there will only be more opportunities.

The thing to be careful about, especially in today’s environment, is not pursuing socialization for socialization’s sake. Of course parents want their kids to have friends and develop social skills - but you gotta be careful about who those peers are and what influence they can have.

[lilscottishlesbian]

Stranger Danger || Kyoko Himari

This is pre- Ezra my oc , just a small lil background of one of my other ocs, Kyoko :)

TW! Talks of Suicide

Location: Ryoutei Art class room

I was so engrossed with the painting that I honestly forgot to breath out. My art teacher asks for a portrait of a family member , they can be whoever we want , dead or alive. In any media in a realistic style to her request. I chose my big sister Emiko , but sadly she is deceased. Last year she randomly went missing near by a church, she was seen walking in but then after a two week search…her dead body was found at bottom of cliff that was and still is popular with suicides. With the way her body looked and the history of the cliff the police ruled it as a suicide.

I was in denial for a while. We told each other everything. Her first boyfriend, her sneaking out , her first breakup , everything. She was the first one I came out to as a lesbain so how she thought she couldn’t come to me for I help I don’t know. Was I too younge? It was two and a half year gap between us, that didn’t matter to me but it clearly matter to her. I loved her , I still do but there are times where I can’t help but feel upset that she only passed on her pain to me. The grief of her death landed me in school counciling , not like it actually helps but my parents were worried in case I ended up like her.

Shit I’m tearing up again. I wiped away my tear before checking the time, oh…it’s the end of the school night. Quinn’s probably waiting for me now.

“Is that your painting?” A male voice said , it was soft but it startled me as I thought i was the only in the room. I turned around and saw him. It was one of the Sakamaki triplets that’s for sure but I never spoke to them enough to properly tell them apart. The one with the furry jacket I share art with but I’m here because of a free period. The roudy one I have pe with. But this one I don’t share any classes with. I know their names, Laito , Ayato and Kanato. I just don’t know which one has the name.

“Oh y-yes , yes it is” I said kinda stutter as I was upset before hand but now , slightly uncomfortable. Not sure if I should ask him which one he is.

“It’s lovely , she looks like you but…older” he said kindly, then I realised he was holding a stuffed bear. Is he Kanato?

“Yeah she’s my…that’s my sister” I managed to get out fitting back tears and trying not to stutter my words because if he asked me if I was okie , that’d me in tears.

“Oh…I’m sorry about that, I should’ve known” He said apologetically, like he meant it. I heard stuff about the triplets. How one slept around , how one was a roudy jock and how one was weird. The bears weird for sure but he seems nice enough.

“No no you’re fine” I was sort of lying because it’s known that student here killed herself in her last year here , leaving her younger sister behind, but I don’t want to be rude as he clearly trying to be nice. “Sorry if this is rude but what’s your name again?” I said in hopes he doesn’t get offended.

“Kanato , I’m aware I can get my name mixed with…the other two” he said that last part with annoyance. Is he the youngest? He seems like the youngest with the last part sounded. “Ah…are you the youngest?”

“No I’m the middle, Laitos the youngest traditionally” He answered , his expression seemed dull when he said that. I then replied rather quickly since my mood was getting better.“oh yeah that old Japanese tradition where the first born triplet is youngest one” he’s stuck in the middle, I sort of feel bad for him. Always stuck in the middle.

“Oi! Kanato! Hurry the fuck up we’re going home!” I jumped when I heard the loud roudy voice. Kanato grunted when he heard and I looked over the side of my easel to see Kanatos other triplets. The one who shouted was the jock one while the fur jacket one was leaning against the door.

“Yeah Kanato finish up this lil chit chat with lil Himari here we wanna go home” the fur jacket guy said after the jock. I’m slightly out off with being called “lil” Himari. There was no need to be extra.

“Yeah stop talking to your girlfriend or else we’ll fucking leave you” Oh fuck. I ain’t this guy’s girlfriend I’m a lesbain. No one knows that other than Quinn but still…we’re just talking. “She’s not my girlfriend you morons , I’m simply complementing her art” Then fur jacket replies mockingly “oh yeah Kanato you’re just simply ‘complementing’ lil Himari”

“Shut up Laito! Unlike you I don’t pounce on the first girl that has a pulse!” Ah fur jacket is Laito , Quinn hates that guy. Well she hates all of them actually.

“Hah! Kanato has a cr-“. Ayato was about to tease Kanato before my hero , Quinn, came to save me from this very awkward moment.

“Will you three fuck off and take your brother issues somewhere else!?” Quinn walked into the class , her hair messy from swimming but her face was red with anger.

“Oh fuck off Quinn!” Ayato shouted at Quinn “How about you and you other fucks piss off! Kyoko was happily alone before you three just had to bring in your problems!”

“Oh chill out Amaya we’re only teasing Kanato~” Laito purred out “Yeah fucking right slut you just love making girls uncomfortable and don’t fucking call me Amaya” Quinn yelled at Laito , she doesn’t like it when people who arnt close to her , or worse people who she hates , call her Amaya. She fine with me , close family and teachers does it but neither us really call her Amaya. Maybe when her parents are mad at her.

“Awww and what will you do about it then~?” “Amaya~”

“You stupid motherfu” Before Quinn could finish insulting Laito and possible lunge at him , their older brother , who I surprisingly remember as Reiji storms in. “What on earth is taken you three so long? Stop harassing these woman and get a move on!”

Kanato angrily sighed before leaving , he looked like was gonna yell or throw a fit but he didn’t. Ayato and Laito walked out with Reiji before given a Quinn a glare and Quinn flipping them off, out of Reijis site.

“What fucking assholes honestly, this is what happens when daddy’s rich” “Honestly that fucking Laito just loves being a right pain the ass to anyone who doesn’t want to suck his dick and oh that fucking Ayato-“ she was about to go on before she saw my expression. She could always tell when I was sad.

“Shit Kyoko what happened? Did Kanato do anything?” Quinn temper died down but was still there to save to let out at Kanato if he did anything, he didn’t however.

“Nothing just…I was painting..her and Kanato came in and complimented it..said she looked like me but older..” I utter out feeling tears roll down my cheek.

“Oh…” Quinn quickly said before putting her hand on my shoulder “that was nice of Kanato…I guess…” I nodded , it was the first time I spoke to him so I doubt he has a crush on me. I hope he doesn’t.

“Y-yeah it was actually nice before..those two came in” those words got Quinn going on again. “Course they ruined it , honestly they suck, the other two never said anything about you though?” She asked just incase she missed anything. “No no although Ayato jokingly called me Kanatos girlfriend and said he has a crush on me”

“God Ayatos so gross” Quinn said screwing her us up. “Yeah and Laito for some reason called me ‘lil Himari’”

“What a werido honestly, but hey for once…Kanato was being pleasant” Quinn was slightly surprised by the fact not sure how much it’ll change her opinions on Kanato.

“Oh are you two girls still here?” Me and Quinn didn’t notice my art teacher , Miss Hori walk into the room.

“Yes Miss Hori I was just cleaning up , Quinn’s just here waiting on me” I replied quickly as Quinn tries to give Miss Hori a awkward smile.

“Okie girls but please hurry up as I need to lock up my classroom” She politely demanded as she clearly wanted to go home but didn’t want to scold us. I finish packing allowing me and Quinn to leave.

We were walking out of school and we saw the Sakamakis limo. Rushing behind us was Yui Komori ,the blonde girl. She didn’t even see us as she rushed out and got in the Limo. She joined us around the beginning of our second year and she’s living with the Sakamakis , that fact there cause some nasty rumours about her. The door shutted behind her but we could hear mumblings , one of which her apologising for keeping them waiting. Once we heard Ayatos voice Quinn started going on again as we began our short walk to the train station.

“I feel for that girl honestly, imagining having to live with those assholes. Like I get it they’re rich so hey atleast she has that going for her , but fuck me…they’re all dicks”

“I thought you liked Subaru” I added in , Subaru was the youngest , all I know is that he’s gets in a lot of fights. “Eh I like his style but I know nothing else about him” she says before stating something else.

“Do you not think there is something off about them?”

#wooo #finally making Oc content #diabolik lovers #haunted dark bridal #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #shitpost #shu sakamaki #yui komori #subaru sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #diahell #oc #diabolik lovers oc

[fareehaandspaniards]

Hey, since you smoked some more Laurence information and inspiration, how do you feel about Laurence x Rom ship idea? This is the last combination within Byrgenwerth's main four that was never explored yet :') It is /THAT/ rare. XD

Also imagine Laurence and Rom bullying Micolash and Caryll in Byrgenwerth era for not having disagreed with Willem even once (haaaahaaaa teacher's pets!), then bullying them in Healing Church era for still not evolving when Laurence got cool horns and Rom got cool extra eyes.... and maybe then some day in the Nightmare they are still laughing at Micolash and Caryll for not becoming monsters and dying as just some boring twinks gfbhghfh (I know it is not canon because Laurence did NOT want to lose humanity, I am just shitposting xD)

Are they really a rare ship?? Like yeah, I haven’t seen any fanart for them, but it seemed very obvious to me that they are very shippable!

Bullying you mean like that? XD

And Caryll with Micolash be like:

Okay, but talking about Laurence/Rom, I think that's the only ship I really like with Laurence :^) I hc Ludwig as a married man, Gehrman loves Maria, maybe Brador/Laurence could be fine...?

Rom and Laurence could be a great couple and maybe even help each other with their weaknesses and flaws. Laurence would be an incentive for Rom to be bolder and could understand her troubles, since he is an excellent psychologist, and Rom, in turn, would take care of him and help him not to go too far, combining progress and humanity! Actually, I think such a pair would be Yharnam's salvation!

I have headcanon that during Byrgerkingth era (no, I am not tired of this pun) Laurence initially considered her a “lower” class, since she is an orphan and not noble like himself (well, and also since she is very smart! We don’t miss the point that neglect and the desire to humiliate often come from envy and deep admiration, right? I’ll soon write and translate a post on this topic, because I fell in love with another ship!!!). Laurence was quite an unpleasant young man in his first two years of study! And if after a while he found a common ground with Romi, the rest of the students were compelled to tolerate him for a long time - he could easily deceive someone, set up – oh, clearly “high school” vibes xD

What pushed him and Rom to friendship - probably was that Laurence was extremely lonely and complex on the inside, and he created many enemies for himself with his own hands! Rom would have been one of those who would have forgiven all the previous mockery, just because she believes in his good side. And for this he secretly would be her “protector,” like, without advertising it, but if someone makes her feel bad, they will definitely be ridiculed and publicly humiliated.

Plus, I love the concept of the “Byrgenwerth trinity” Rom + Laurence + Micolash, and there are a lot of details about their communication, but now I probably need to focus on Rom. The key point is that she and Laurence, in a special way, acted as “parents” for Micolash (although I am not sure he liked it, especially because for some time he was interested in Rom, you know, romatically). And it brought them closer again!

As a result, in the middle of her studying in Byrgenwerth, Rom had around her - Caryll, who admired and respected her, but quietly, modestly and from afar, faithful Yuri (I remember the nuance with her name as with Caryll, but I still use version from Eng localization, since it is more familiar) and Laurence, the only who could see her as a woman, not only a good friend and sister (Micolash was kinda upset discovering that they are half-siblings :^( )

Laurence, in turn, went through real personality development, experiencing transformation during his studying, as often happens with bullies. And from an ugly, bullying duckling, he turned into a balanced, understanding and pleasant swan, which in fact he always was, just inside! (I think this would be the first time Micolash would be truly angry at him, because they would become less “alike.”) And Rom would not immediately understand this change. Reincarnated, Laurence would already be thinking about his future life, after graduation, and would come to the conclusion that he simply could not find a better wife than Rom. She is smart, kind and would not prevent him from blood researches, since she shares his passion for science. So he started hitting on her. But Rom remained indifferent, feeling that it was all insincere - just a practical calculation. And Laurence liked that fact, because she saw him through!

Next comes Research Hall, where Rom (based on your, dear Katy, research, which I sliiiightly took to my headcanons xD) was a patient (imagine Laurence being concerned about her and seeing as a future prophet for the Church, it's both science and love, tho cruel tbh), and then the Choir. Actually, Rom as the leader of the Choir is very logical, even if it’s not mentioned in the game. Laurence and Micolash, her friend and brother, are outstanding figures, why does she always remain on the sidelines? I think she had even more Insight than these two from the beginning! She perfectly perceives those same higher planes that Micolash strives for, and is able to communicate with Ebrietas, because she fEeLs.

Aaaand... Laurence and Rom could have become officially a couple after foundation of Choir! Tender, warm to each other, not demanding anything from each other except love.

There is a difficult moment with the timeline, but I would like to headcanon that Rom distanced herself from the Choir, from Micolash - from everyone when Laurence died, turning into a beast, and this became the point-of-no-return, after which she no longer needed anything, and her grief resonated with Ebrietas, causing the Great One to feel compassion for her...

So yes, good ship, deserves attention

#bloodborne headcanons #ask #mutuals #laurence the first vicar #rom the vacuous spider #They look so good together #my art #plus one ship to the whole vision of bb world

[noodleswithsoba-blog]

Ibara Shiozaki Headcanons!

Here I am again with some headcanons for Ibara Shiozaki! She's my favorite 1B student and I'll be sharing some headcanons for my favorite MHA characters! So, without further ado... here we go!

CW: Elements of Religious Trauma Ahead!

Backstory Headcanon.

Ibara was born with her quirk, being a soft set of fuzzy vines on her head. She was a very meek, quiet baby, which was echoes of how her father, Colm Ryker, was when he was a baby.

She was raised by her extremely religious father and ended up learning German and Latin from him better than Japanese. Which was it's own problems when she'd try to talk but nobody except for her father understood her.

Her mother, Tamayo Shiozaki, died soon after Ibara was born so all she really knew was her overprotective, sheltering father. She was a very isolated little girl, until... She met her first friend. Renaru Kaenshita, the neighbor that would try to ask her questions about why she's so sad only to get answers he barely understood, so he would learn German and she would start learning Japanese.

Her father and her best friend were her entire world. So Colm strategically sent Ibara to the same schools as Renaru, that way she had someone familiar.

Because of her shyness, being half foreign, or two quarters, having a mutation quirk, and hanging out with the kid who had a dysfunctional quirk and a physical disability she was relentlessly bullied.

That caused Renaru to fight for her. Because she was his best friend and absolutely would fight the entire student body if he had to. Of course she would suffer in silence and pray for those who harmed her to see reason.

Her father never taught her to use her quirk in a way to harm anyone intentionally or unintentionally, practically being a pacifist. Yet the older she got, the more she wanted to break away from her father. So she got her motive to be a hero...

To help those with her quirk, to help because she wants to. Not to spread her beliefs but to just save people because she can.

Personal Headcanons!

Ibara is a very good singer, mostly due to her experience singing hymns at her father's church, although she's very shy about it and doesn't like to sing outside of church.

She loves going out and walking through a botanical garden, or gardens in general. Mostly because her mother's garden was the one she tended back home, she actually asked Nezu for a garden on campus and she got it.

She's extremely sheltered and has issues with keeping up socially with her classmates. Sometimes not getting their social cues or drifting off in the middle of a conversation because she lost her train of thought.

She finds certain subjects taboo, and while not vocal about them out of fear of being ostracized it's been an uphill battle. Surprisingly, Midnight and Ibara have a very cordial rapport together.

Setsuna always tries to break Ibara's shell, but some things are a no go, namely anything having to do with boys. Ibara has feelings for someone but never tells anyone until she's already holding him in her arms during a study session. (It's Renaru.)

She has a very, very deep seated fear of pruning scissors.

Ibara is Class 1B's vice representative, a job she takes a little more seriously than she has to. She only ran because she genuinely wanted to get out of her comfort zone.

She has a very, very, VERY, deep fear of Hell. Even the smallest 'sin' sends her into tears. Once the dorms were built however she went through an intense crisis of faith.

She has a favorite relative, her Uncle Rudolf never treated her as a child who barely knew anything, he would let her learn and make mistakes, and tell her it was fine.

Ibara's temper is very slow to anger, but when she IS angry she's terrifying. Her vines change to sharp whiplike strands, her eyes glow a bright red, and she starts speaking a different language, it's the quirk known as Wrath.

Her favorite holiday is Christmas, mostly because she can see her Aunties and Uncle. She doesn't see her cousins much either, even though Setsuna is in the same class.

Ibara's favorite song is I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier. Mostly because it makes her think of her friends and how far she's come as a person, and how much she loves her partner.

Her deepest fear is that she'll lose everyone and everything she's ever loved in one fell swoop because God would be angry with her for something outside of her control.

After the first war and Renaru leaving UA to mourn the loss of his mother, Ibara's faith was extraordinarily shaken. She had seen the death and carnage, tried to hold it back, tried to save everyone.

She blames herself for being too much of a coward to give in to her built up Wrath, to embrace the sin that made her father a true terror back when he was an active hero.

All she could do was cry and beg for forgiveness.

Once she starts deconstructing however she still holds a belief in a higher power, making her Agnostic. It's not exactly the Christian God, but its a god that she understands.

She has some religious trauma, mainly tied to her father and his way of things, but also because she suffered a major shaking of her faith all the way back in the War and still has issues from it.

Relationship Headcanons!

Ibara is an extremely shy girl when it comes to her lovers. She doesn't like talking about them or really being public with them much. At best she holds Renaru's hand or winds some of her vines around him to steady him.

She's very clingy. Like you'd have to pry her off she's that clingy. Also she's so happy. She barely complains because she feels as though that'd be a bother or she'd end up losing her partner... when it's something like a date plan.

She's also fiercely protective and loyal to a fault. You really lucked out falling for and dating her, because she wouldn't ever dream of hurting you or leaving you.

Ibara does however have some flaws, sometimes her clinginess and overprotective nature causes her to fret over her partner's wellbeing at the slightest hint of something wrong.

Sometimes she can't really express how she feels so it's hard to really parse out what she wants.

When it comes to PDA, she will hold her partner's hand or kiss their cheek. Later on when she's more comfortable she ends up giving her partner soft kisses on the lips that last only a few seconds.

After the War, she becomes even more protective and clingy, holding onto Renaru like he's the last thing that keeps her anchored. She understood that he needed time to mourn but she needed him too.

When it comes to her classmates she came across as cold and distant, somewhat holier-than-thou, and was very intimidating during quirk training or hero training.

Slowly though, with her friendships with Kendo, Reiko, Setsuna, and Kinoko she started to grow as a person. Enjoying different types of music, learning how to fight better so she isn't just letting her vines do all the work, adding mushrooms and learning how to care for them in her garden, and bonding with the cousin she never really got to know.

And... that's it.

Whew! That was a lot, if you made it down here I really appreciate it! Please tell me what you think of them! Thank you and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon good evening and goodnight.

#my hero academia #ibara shiozaki #oc x canon #fanfiction #headcannons #class 1b