#teen-anx

[transmutationisms]

I have always been wary of the psychiatric industry, but its only very recently that i started to read anti-psychiatric works. Your blog is the first time i saw that the "chemical imbalances causing mental illness" is a myth, and honestly its something im having a hard time wrapping my head around.

Is it that mood regulation struggles, labelled as a mental illnesses, has more to do with outside factors instead of the person "just being that way"? Is it therefore unlikely for someone to have struggles with mood regulation if they cant identify any external causes that would cause them to be, for example, extremely agoraphobic or to have anger management issues? Im asking this for myself mainly, cause i always had intense agoraphobia no matter how i often go outside my home (in fact it was worse when i was a teen and i was outside the house in even more back then). I cant think of any reason for me to be like this than chemical imbalances in my brain.

the specific 'chemical imbalance' myth i was talking about in this post is the idea that depression is caused by low serotonin, and that therefore SSRIs—serotonin re-uptake inhibitors, ie drugs that cause a higher level of serotonin in the brain—ought to cure or at least ameliorate depression. this conjecture is belied by the fact that SSRIs don't, at a population level, reliably perform better than placebo.

although a neurobiological cause of 'mental illness' has long been the holy grail of psychiatry, the serotonin imbalance myth is far from the only hypothesis that psychiatrists and neuroscientists have proposed. so, a critique of the serotonin myth is not synonymous with, or generalisable to, a critique of every neurobiological mechanism purported to explain psychiatric diagnoses. you may be interested to know, though, that genomics and neuroscience have not identified a biological cause of any psychiatric diagnosis (p. 851).

all human experiences are biologically instantiated, including in the brain and wider nervous system. we are embodied beings. however, it is a leap to assume that such instantiation is automatically equivalent to a causal explanation or disease etiology. in other words, to deny that psychiatric diagnoses are known to be biologically caused does not mean we deny that thoughts and thought patterns express in the physical matter of neuroanatomy. this is a major philosophical sticking point to keep in mind whenever you're looking at something like, eg, a study that purports to show 'brain differences' in those assigned a certain psychiatric diagnosis. another thing to consider is whether these papers are plagued with methodological issues or financial conflicts of interest.

i can't possibly tell you why you exhibit agoraphobia. however, when i talk about social, economic, and environmental factors that may contribute to the patterns of behaviour labelled as 'mental illness', i'm talking about much more than the individual choice to leave your house. since phobias are 'anxiety disorders', i might start by probing into questions like: is the world you live in safe? do you perceive it as safe? do you or your community face existential threats that may confront you more obviously when you go outside? are you nervous around other people, and if so, might that be connected to fears (well-founded or not) about interpersonal violence and harm? do you think any of these anxieties may be connected to the hostility and inaccessible design of the social environment and economic conditions?

human behaviour and thought varies. some of those variations may be totally benign; others may be helpful or harmful to the person living with them. it would be weird if every single one of the 8 billion people on earth experienced precisely the same amount of anxiety about any situation, no? all of this is to say: yeah, it's entirely possible you have been, for one reason or another (genetic, neuroanatomical, social, &c) predisposed to experience high, even debilitating levels of anxiety when leaving your home. most human characteristics develop from a tangle of social, environmental, material causes—ie, from a combination of 'nature' and 'nurture'. what doesn't follow, though, is the claim that there is therefore a discrete, 'diseased' element of your brain or brain functioning that can simply be cured or eliminated through psychiatric intervention.

it is a critical point of anti-psychiatry to challenge psychiatric and neuroscientific claims to neurobiological determinism where psychiatric diagnoses are concerned. this is for many reasons, including: a) that these claims have not been demonstrated to actually be true [see above]; b) that they rob pathologised people of agency and self-determination [see: you're too sick to know you're sick, and the doctor will fix you now]; c) that they are often pushed by pharmaceutical companies with financial interests, or grant-funded researchers with... financial interests; d) that they are politically seductive in various eugenic, hereditarian discourses that seek to eliminate the biologically 'unfit' element from society.

[bwoahtastic]

older pack pup Max realises who his sire is and is super angry at momma Charles so he goes to meet Jos. Jos treats Max unkindly and when Momma realises where Maxy has gone and tries to save him gets treated badly bu Jos and Maxy won't have any of that, so he walks out of the place with momma, proud that he didn't grow up to be like Jos!

Oh plss!! Pack teen pup Maxy ksks. He fights with momma a lot because he just struggles with his past and where he is from, and how against his momma is to Max meeting his sire.

Max finding out on his own who jos is and going to meet him and Charles panics so much hearing where his baby went!

Maybe jos and max are in a restaurant and jos is talking shit about max's momma and papas and how they are too soft, anx how it's a shame Charles enver had kids of his own because he sure would be quite the breeder! And Max presented as omega which jos says is disappointing, if jos had raised him he would have been an Alpha!

Charles storming in with Dan and Lewis as back up and he is about ready to claw Jos's eyes out! Max getting up and hugging his momma, saying he is ready to leave now and he is sorry 🥹 for sure that night Maxy is gonna crawl into his momma's nest for snuggles, not such a big boy after all!

[bugflies00]

do phil & techno exist in your au?

yes they do!! i keep forgetting to talk about them and i think it's because i haven't explored their characters enough in my head so im not as attached to them in this au, but i really want to develop them more. originally this was an sbi au but then my crimeboys solo brain (and my tntduo brain) took over. but sbi is very much a found family in this au too!!!

i think i mentioned that wilbur met techno first, probably through their job? originally i wanted phil to be a college prof who meets wilbur when hes a student, but then i scrapped wilbur going to college after school because he doesnt have the money or time (he does eventually go in his late twenties!! because he really wants to like he loves learning and it was always a dream of his), so phil is still a college prof in my heart but yeah.

he's techno's dad, and techno's mum isn't even in the picture, i guess she's dead lmao. yeah im making that canon she's dead because then wilbur and techno can make dead mum jokes. <- you just saw the live process of a fact being canonised.

anyway twinsduo bond at their retail job over talking about history and ancient greece and literature. techno is a classics major at his dad's college, and he took a job to get some money on the side. sometimes he sneaks wilbur his textbooks just because he's really passionate about the topic and he's really jealous of techno who gets to learn about it and have the college experience and live at home with his dad.

phil and wilbur have a Somewhat? fatherly? relationship? over time as crimeboys & emeraldduo grow closer phil definitely starts acting as a father/mentor figure for wilbur, but it's never like. official. wilbur doesn't call him Dad or anything. but they still love each other a lot it's very much found family but i suppose not in the traditional sense.

it takes a LONG time for wilbur to warm up to phil though, he has a tendency to distrust adults given. well. His Whole Life Experience i guess. but the second tommy meets techno he makes it his life's mission to annoy him as much as possible. This is a mark of love. it takes a long time for techno to realise that . tommy and phil also get along pretty quickly, phil's chill, easy-going vibe matches well with tommy's . General Presence.

they live a couple streets away from wilbur & tommy's flat (and later in the story when wilbur buys a house with q they buy the house right beside phil and techno's. they make a hole in the fence separating the houses so they can hang out in the other house more easily!). phil gets really worried about wilbur when he learns that he has a teen and a baby in his care alone, so he tries his best to help out where he can, but obviously wilbur's a stubborn asshole who refuses help, so phil has to be subtle about it. one day when he's visiting he finds the fridge is empty except for baby formula and a single sandwich for tommy's lunch, he doesn't leave wilbur a choice he makes him come over and feeds all of them. and wilbur keeps protesting but phil's like "it hurts them too if you refuse help" and so he shuts up.

phil teaches english, and he's kinda the cool old teacher who always swears and talks shit but who cares a lot about his students, and it's a similar relationship he has with crimeboys. he and techno also have a very funny (to me) relationship because often when they talk it doesn't feel like a father and son, more like two weird old friends who constantly jab at each other. it's very confusing if you don't know them.

techno also doesn't have a lot of friends (mostly by choice) and phil is like. The One Person he trusts the most. he begrudgingly starts allowing wilbur in that circle. eventually also tommy although that takes work (thats a lie techno loves tommy but he has to act like he hates him because yknow. The Principle).

to a lot of people's surprise, fundy and techno latch on to each other very quickly. it's surprising because fundy was a very very shy and anxious kid, and as a baby, he would cry if he was held by anyone who wasn't wilbur. and techno is this big burly socially awkward guy who doesn't know how to give hugs. but for some reason fundy immediately trusts him and lets him carry him and techno is very gentle with him. he doesn't talk to him like a baby, he has conversations with 6 month old fundy about ancient greece and politics and linguistics. he's the only person besides wilbur who fundy will fall asleep in the arms of. even when fundy's an older kid they still have that bond, at any social events they'll be in the corner so they don't have to talk to people.

techno also plays the violin, and when he learns this tommy begs him for months to play him something and he refuses. one day tommy comes home crying because he had an awful day and skimmed his knee and got a bad grade and his lunch got soaked in the rain, and techno leads him up to his room and silently begins to play a piece. tommy never shut up so quickly in his life LMAO

i think that's all i have for now but if you prompt me i can talk about anything in this au for days

[tsurilol]

anyway

so basically shins mom is a bitch.

but in MUCH more detail she actually should be arrested for child abuse.

If shin gets bad grades, he gets hurt. if he messes up in ANY WAY he gets hurt. i honestly think thats why he's so weak, he wasn't allowed to fight back, so what could he do?

That obviously caused a lot of anxiety when he was a teen, so being a teen again in the fic is just horrible for him, since he knows that what shes doing is bad, but he didn't back then. so, he avoids her as much as possible, but she just says that if he closes his bedroom door if he's not getting changed (for fucking privacy) she'll get his dad to take the door off its hinges.( has actually been said to me before<3)

anx about him being trans, she would just take away every bit of comfort he had simply because she would think "it must be a bad influence." which would cause his mental health to spiral, and therefore she'd be like "youre just looking for attention."(also something I've had said to me)

this would obviously cause him to lose all his trust in her, yet she'd claim he has to regain her trust.

what do you mean I'm basing her off my own mother-

that’s. that’s not what society considers ‘normal’, Mars.

but yeah please go to hell 474k4. The fact the at Shin can fight back with his Sou mask changes quite a bit, & I’m definitely adding this to the fic.

[nclson]

**        a second note on foggy nelson and ocd

- heavily inspired by this post from @jannwrites​​

as stated in this post that i wrote after finalising my decision to write my interpretation of franklin nelson with obsessive compulsive disorder, foggy started experiencing extreme levels of anxiety as a young teen. as explained in this post, the common cause of this was stress and pressure placed upon him by his birth mother in the time before she signed over her parental rights. rosalind sharpe’s picking at her eldest son never came from a place that could be explained by love; consistently she would constrict and control what food he was allowed to eat, how he was supposed to dress, and dictated how he was to spend his time because she didn’t believe that some kids just got C’s in a subject even when they studied. this left foggy feeling completely out of control and massively anxious because he needed everything to go right in order to please his mom. at this point, ocpd would seem more likely because of the attachment trauma between him and his bio mom, but at the same time he was learning that she wouldn’t be happy no matter what and it was his dad that he really cared about helping. 

once this realisation had fully settled for him, the majority of his anxiety came from knowing his dad was nearly bankrupt; edward nelson was taking care of three kids on a small business wage whilst also trying to save up for a house to move them into with his partner, anna and her child. because of his nature as a quiet child, it was easy for foggy to pick up on this. he began to be overwhelmed with ideas about them losing their home, losing the store; foggy began to struggle with completely out of character and immoral thoughts that attacked his usual system of beliefs and values. the only thing that seemed to soothe them were small actions such as hoarding the granola bars they had for breakfast or newspapers once his dad was done with them under his bed; counting the number of trolley wheels and strip lights when they went to the store until it felt like a good number; repeating small phrases or words his mind got caught on over and over again.

after anna and edward moved in together and everything settled a bit, the thoughts strayed from concerns about money to concerns about everything. all of a sudden foggy was terrified someone would break in and kill his sisters, or the gas would be left on and they would all choke in their sleep, or that the police would show up and discover he had taken something he shouldn’t have. little rituals and compulsions began to occur more and more in his daily routine- often interrupting or slowing down his day- but they felt completely necessary to him. it was after about a year of this that anna would discover him at the front door, locking and unlocking it again until they could shepherd him into a car and to the emergency room.

onto the inspiration of this post; in the comics, it is explained that during college, foggy nelson was a total slob. he ate terribly, was messier than anyone sharing a dorm had a right to be, and had terrible study habits. food for foggy has always been a major trigger for his mental health, something inspired by rosalind’s treatment of him due to his weight, and so was studying because he suffered massively with the thought that he had no right to be at columbia alongside geniuses like marci and matt. ( during his undergrad degree, his main concerns were around hygiene and food as well as whether or not he was good enough to have earned his place on the scholarship board ) . the main thing that i want to address though is that ocd is not a disorder that demands cleanliness. certain rituals may make some people with the disorder want to clean, but in some situations, ocd can be gross. my main point is though, foggy was a mess because he was kind of a dick and shared a room with his brother who was also a mess for most of his life, and it was something he didn’t experience much anxiety around.

currently, foggy has a lot of anxiety surrounding money, and has the intrusive thoughts about losing everything that the firm have worked to build back together again. on bad days he finds himself washing his hands over and over again to make sure his work is acceptable or staying late at the office to make sure matt and karen don’t see him locking the door repeatedly. 

for the most part though, foggy is recovering nicely; he pulls the money together to go to therapy when things get really awful, and is in an on-again-off-again battle with his ssri’s to find the right balance.

[nightingale87]

One Five Dollar Bill

Warnings: Cursing and Mentions Of Death/Dying

                Antonio's Cafe. It was a locally owned, small, quaint little place near Gem St. The hours fit my own personal schedule and left enough time to get my son from preschool each evening. The job wasn't perfect but it was comfortable. The pay was decent and the work itself wasn't too difficult. In the end, I worked at Antonio's for two years before eventually quitting. Although I did truly enjoy working with my co-workers and having such a flexible career, it was something that I do not regret whatsoever. However, that is not to say the memory of that haunting 5 dollar bill would ever get any better, even as time progressed.

                To fully tell my story, we must travel back two weeks before the incident. The day wasn't anything extraordinary; it was just a casual sunny afternoon. Marcy was in the back, rolling out a new sheet of cookie dough while I managed the cashier. Antonio, the boss, was off at the store, buying some needed groceries. "Hyeon! I'm going out for a cigarette break. The breadsticks are in the oven, the donuts are just about done, aaand I think that's it. Just a heads up." I got a backward wave of her hand and a quick warning and then, she was gone. The cafe was practically empty with an elderly couple chatting in a table for two and some hooded man sitting quietly in the back.

              Nine. What the hell? Squinting closely at the mystery man, I read the small words above his head. "Nine?" Shaking my head, I mentally facepalmed. No. No way. I read that wrong. Had to. Turning over to the elderly couple, I read the woman who was happily wiping the chocolate icing from around her pinkish lips. "One and a half." That was a reassurance. Turning back to the hooded man, I tried to get a read on the situation.

                The small brunette looked to be in his mid-twenties or so, with big bags under his eyes. He slumped over in his seat, grabbing at his stomach in pain. A loud gurgle resonated in the open air and I found myself frowning in pity. My fingers then moved without my knowing consent and I felt hot butter burn my hand. It seemed my feet were next in this strange spell as I suddenly made up my mind on this strange plan, walking closer to this new stranger.

                 "Hey." He looked up, eyes wet with disappointment. "I just stopped- in to sit- down. I swear- I'm really- gonna order something. I'm just- waiting for a- friend." As if the excuse wasn't enough, the pure desperation in his voice gave it all away. "I don't care." He hung his head in shame, as I looked down at the warm bread in my palm. Ten. "Stay as long as you need." His deep brown eyes stared up into my own in wonder. He resembled my son from this angle and I leaned down so I could be equal to his height. "Here." I shoved the round biscuit into his shaky hands. Nine. "Oh, please- I don't have- any money." Another loud gurgle interrupted his pleas, and I just shook my head at his frail shape. "No matter. This one's on me." Pulling a five dollar bill from my apron pocket, I watched his eyes begin to overflow with emotion. "Thank you."

                I watched as he sat there, eyes full of a strange kind of lust I hadn't seen in a long time. The elderly couple soon left, leaving me a decent tip of 2 dollars, three quarters and a nickel. Marcy had met Antonio when he was pulling in and helped carry in the plastic bags full of new mysterious goods. As we put away stock, joking and messing around all the while, I told Antonio about the strange man. I, of course, was (lightly) lectured thoroughly for paying some random man from the streets. Luckily, I was off the hook with a slight scolding and Antonio ruffling my hair to my annoyance. In the end, I never saw the man again. Just a casual afternoon. It seemed that there was nothing else to come of the small situation. 

                You guessed it. Two weeks pass. I had already moved on and forgotten that strange man with a 10. That is, until two policemen came wandering in. 4. I looked up from where I was cleaning the counter with a polite smile gracing my face naturally.

                   "And what can I get for you boys?" The shorter man grimaced before replying "Nothing, mam; we're here on the job. Tell me. Are you Hyeon Jung-Hee?" "Oh." My face instantly changed to one of nervousness. "I suppose I am." Stepping back from the counter, I hung my apron on the small hook beside the counter. "MARCY!" "On it." Marcy was already scurrying to the counter to take my place. "Let's talk outside, yeah?" The shorter man merely nodded before following me out to the vacant parking lot outside. Now left to speak privately, I double checked the door to be sure we wouldn't be disturbed. 

                "What happened? Is it Myung?" Instantly fearing for my sister, I was filled with a wave of relief as the taller man shook his head 'no'. "No. She's fine." "Oh, good." Leaning against the wall, I clutched my chest happily. "Mam, did you know an Eli Jaron?" Again the smaller man spoke. Eli? I scrunched my forehead up in concentration before replying "Doesn't really ring any bells, no." "He came into the Cafe just two weeks ago. Your boss said you spoke with him. Gave him a pastry for the way." "Oh!" Snapping my fingers together, I mentally connected the dots. "Yeah. I remember." "Yes. Unfortunately, we've come as bearers of bad news." Taking a photograph from his pocket, the policeman fiddled with it before revealing the sight. "Mr. Jaron committed suicide three days ago." My lungs burned at the sharp intake of breath as I looked over the photo, not believing my eyes. There, in that forever haunting image, was a single five dollar bill. "He only left one thing on his note. And it was to give- this- to you. Pay off some sort of debt? Do you know anything about that?"

      Since that day, I have seen him wherever I go. Falling asleep, taking a shower, going to church, in my son, doing the dishes and so on. Every day, he holds out a single bill. But I can never bring myself to take it. For that, I'd like to believe, he is grateful. I only acknowledged him once as he had stood in front of my door all morning, not budging from his position even once. Later that day, there was a report on the news talking about the 20 car pile-up that would've happened on my way to work. What did I do to deserve such loyalty? What did I pay?

Five dollars and the ability to show fucking compassion

[slav-every-day]

[userkyle]

We got a text yesterday asking to all come to work at 1 today so I did and I found out one of my bosses who I worked with closely passed away yesterday bc of a sudden heart attack and man it's so fucked to know I'll never see him in the kitchen again. Fuck man.

[fearfilledvirgil]

Ivity and Anx: part eleven

Summary: Virgil’s mind spirals farther and farther down as he mindlessly walks the path to Logan’s house. When he arrives, Logan’s mind begins to reel into his own thinking process. 

Warnings: Physical and emotional abuse discussed, manipulation discussed, Deceit (Marxious) mentioned, few swears

Word Count: 2581

Pairings: Slowburn Prinxiety

A/N: I think the warnings don’t get through just how much they think about abuse in this chapter. It’s bad. I got a few sinking feelings in my stomach when I read it over, and I wrote it. Besides that, yay! Part eleven is finally here! I’m so incredibly sorry for the long wait. Thank you for sticking with me. (Taglist under the cut)

masterlist

Taglist: @rileyfirstname @verymuchanidiot @definentlynotjustanotherlemon @silversmith-91 @kanejandkruge @sander-fander-sides @hexdream18243 @crows-with-hats @turksmigurks17 @monikastec @definenormalifyoucan @i-am-absolute-fandom-trash @applecannibal @cats-with-blogs @bubblycricket @gay-girls-do-it-better @bunnyartie @quietlypondering @elusivefalsehoods @hghrules @royallyanxious @quietwords-loudthoughts @squishynonbinarytwink @sortablue @giant-tiny-spn @illogical-anxieties @lovecrazyjennybear

~•~

shhimcreatingrightnow: I’ve given you your space for months now,, I understand what happened before but I promise I’m not like him. Please, let me tell my side of things, Virgil

I miss you

Virgil’s eye-line stuck mostly to the ground a few feet in front of him on his walk. He sometimes let his gaze wander to the street when a car approached, but the inexplicable urge that came about to leap out before the moving vehicle stopped him from doing so. He kept on as much allert as he could with two of his scenes mostly blocked out. His vision was impaired with his hoodie and low eyeline, and his hearing was limited with the quiet music leaking from his headphones. Not that he cared much. Well, he did care, a lot. Virgil continually looked back behind him, finding excuses to look into the street for oncoming assailants. It was all counter productive, his paranoia, but none of Logan’s impeccable logic could convince him that there wasn’t someone breathing down his neck.

Virgil had an understandable love-hate relationship with walks. He loved the calmness of it, the being able to just go where his feet took him. He liked that he could just breath in the moisture filled air in this time of year, walking alone with no one to make him talk. The serenity of the walks as the trees swayed gently in the wind was enough to convince him to keep going on them. The opposite side of the coin, though, was that there was a lot of things that could go wrong while he walked alone. His music that he loved and thought was an essential part of the walk-taking experience limited the amount of things he could hear. If he couldn’t hear someone approaching, then he couldn't prepare himself. Virgil’s tendency to look at the ground and hunch his shoulders also provided difficulty; if he couldn't see danger coming, then he had no way to protect himself.

Virgil always had to be able to protect himself. If he wasn’t careful, he knew full well what would happen. He would get hurt. If he didn't do something just the right way, or he spaced out into nothingness and missed something important, he would get hurt. There wasn't any way of avoiding it either. Whether it was yelling, passive aggressiveness, or a physical punishment, a part of Virgil would be broken. The boy with the hard outer shell understood too completely that pain didn't have to be physical to make someone fall apart.

His father taught him the darkness of physical punishment. The man took it upon himself to beat the submissiveness and learning into him. It hadn’t always been that way, but the discipline the man used had become so regular that Virgil could hardly remember a time when things were better. Way back when his mother was still alive, the harshest punishment his father inflicted was loud, loud, with an object taken away. Now discipline was loud, louder, deafening, with an object hitting his skin. He told him that his son deserved to be punished, to be put in his place for all the mean wrongdoing that he's done. The harsh dark of his father’s reality pushed Virgil farther into too sweet words that wreaked of manipulation.

Marxious graciously showed him the mental scars that emotional manipulation could cause. The older boy--who Virgil acknowledged was now in college with a shiver down his spine--made it his personal, sick mission to create as much dependency in Virgil as possible. He fought with words, sickly sweet promises and never ending lies. When Virgil latched onto Deceit, and when Marxious hooked Virgil onto his line, the walls that covered the younger’s heart grew tenfold. Deceit convinced him to be the worst possible version of Virgil he could be, saying that in doing so he was strong. Marxious was creating a villain for his own control, but the small speck of light that was Logan managed to wiggle its way back into his life. With that spark Logan started a flame, and the flame burned through most of the deception.

As his mind went along on its usual tangents whenever it was left to wander, Virgil managed to walk just over halfway into the neighborhood. His feet had walked this path so many times before that he neglected to realize just how far he walked until another car drifted past him. The sound of the engine and the rush of wind that blew harshly onto him as it passed pulled Virgil out of his mind and back to the present. Virgil’s feet stopped cold, allowing their owner to stop to take a moment to collect himself. He couldn't allow his mind to drift there so deeply again. Not only was it unproductive to dwell on the past, but having it sink deeper into his mind would reverse so much progress made with Creativity.

Ivity. Virgil’s current problem. Some would think that his father was his ongoing problem, something that must have had much more weight in Virgil’s mind than someone catfishing him, but Virgil’s mind worked differently. It worked wrongly. The hunched, broken mess, standoffish boy began to think of his father’s ways of something daily: ordinary. The kind of crushed that he felt when Roman of all people was made out to be Ivity took more precedence over the ordinary. Unlike with Marxious, Roman had always seemed genuine. There wasn't one moment when in a conversation with Creativity did Virgil have any second guesses of his nature. Roman was constant in what he had to say, and how he presented it. Deceit jumped too far over the board, and more than once broke his masquerade of kindness to reprimand Virgil for something. There was two sides to Deceit, but Creativity only had one.

Virgil shook his head violently and resumed his steps. He couldn't think this deep about Roman right now, not before telling Logan what happened. Virgil needed to keep a clear head. He needed a mindspace where his father didn't exist, and neither did the two who betrayed his trust online. He couldn't be thinking about the men who broke him, because if he did, he would break down. The one thing besides ever telling Logan the severity of most of his issues that Virgil swore never to do again was breakdown in front of Logan. The logical thinker would realize too quickly just how fucked up his friend was, and then he’d decide that Virgil wasn't worth the trouble.

In the midst of his chaotic, overflowing thinking, Virgil reached the road down to Logan’s house. He closed his eyelids, letting the heaviness weigh down onto them for a moment. He pushed everything away and down just for a little while. He became light, airing, floating away from the pavement into a state of something much calmer. The calm barely lasted, though, as the one emotion he couldn’t push away came crashing back when he saw Logan’s house in the distance. To hide the ever growing fear, Virgil placed on his facade of the short tempered and pushy kid that the Brian family knew him to be.

Luckily for Virgil, the sun was still high in the sky despite the clouds obscuring its light. Usually his long walk down into the more prestigious neighborhood occurred at nightfall, so he usually used the back door. Today, though, and on other occasions such as this, Virgil felt free enough to ring the doorbell and possibly be greeted by a family member other than Logan. So Virgil’s feet found themselves atop the old welcome mat, his hands still in his pockets. After the last few moments of constructing his face into that of a grim scoul, Virgil pulled his hand out of his hoodie and pressed the doorbell.

It took a few moments, but the door soon swinged open to reveal a ten year old girl who held a striking resemblance to Logan with her dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. Those eyes, however, were currently glaring daggers at Virgil. Her face was scrunched up with something like a mini mom glare, and it was kind of adorable. It would be actually adorable if the reason behind the glare wasn't as hard pressing as it was.

“What do you want.” Olivia looked Virgil up and down with a touch of disgust. Virgil always said that he didn’t mind the way that Logan’s family treated him. Of course, they all were just cautious. Virgil wasn't exactly the kind of person to look inviting or anything less than intimidating.

“Well I was looking for the Brian’s house, but clearly I got the wrong address.” Virgil seethed through slightly parted lips, regretting the words immediately. Serves her right, he tried to convince himself, for treating him that way.

Olivia made another snarl and let out a scoff, going to roll her eyes before Logan appeared behind her. The older brother caught sight of his friend standing in the doorway, hunching over with that all-too-familiar gimance on his face. Logan halted in his footsteps, walking backwards to get a full look of the situation unfolding at his doorway. Virgil’s eyes caught his, which made him immediately begin towards the two at the door.

“‘Lia, what’s happening here?” Logan asked as he placed a hand on his younger sister’s shoulder. He gave a glance of apology to his friend in the doorway, but that only made the younger squint his eyes and hunch over more. There seemed to be a little sneer on his face. Logan pursed his lips, wonder still overflowing his mind. He knew that Virgil disliked putting out anything other than this hardened face in front of strangers and peers, but the logical one still didn't understand why he would feel the need to keep it up here. Virgil was practically family with how often he came over, and with the fact that Logan cared for him deeply. He just wanted his family to see his friend in the same light that he does.

“The gothic boy is back.” Olivia retaliated with a small half-smile that held the smallest bit of real emotion. Her kind eyes and sweet facial features were so at home on her face when she looked at her brother. It was easy to see that the girl cared for her sibling, and the way that her face naturally melted into the less distasteful expression signified just how much she didn’t like Virgil. Like he thought before, Virgil didn’t mind how the Brian family thought of him. He couldn’t possibly; he had too many other things to worry about. Besides, keeping up the darker persona around Logan’s family just helped his societal image come together as someone who you’d rather not mess with, unless you want a pretty bruise as well.

“Do you need help with physics again?” Logan asked, his gaze becoming ever so slightly serious. Virgil’s head inclined with the slightest of movements with that word. That was the two’s code of sorts that they would use if Virgil need to be patched up, but more into that later.

“No, I just want to talk...about something.” Virgil shoved both of his hands deeper into his pockets and made his shoulders rise and enclose his neck to make an awkwardly looking hunch of sorts. The shrug that wasn’t exactly a shrug passed back down into Virgil’s normal slouched standing position. Logan tilted his head up and raised a lone eyebrow in confusion, but gently lead his sister away from the door.

“Alright, Olivia,” Logan started quicker then he usually spoke. “Thank you for answering the door.”

“But-” Olivia tried to say, only to be turned around and directed back toward where she was doing homework at the table.

“Just get finished on that homework, okay?” Logan finished talking to his younger sister with small smile before hurriedly turning toward his friend still waiting in the doorway. It was irregular that Virgil would show up at Logan’s doorstep unannounced, even rarer doing so and not wanting ‘help with physics.’ Virgil didn’t even take physics. The only conclusion that Logan’s mind could come to in the middle of this fast pace moment was that Virgil was finally ready to actually tell him the thing that Logan had been theorizing about. What thing? Well, Logan only knew it by one name: Mr. Sanders.

Mr. Sanders was arguably not a good man. Logan had been theorizing for quite some time some things that he would rather not make a hypothesis on but he did anyways. They always lead him to concern whenever his best friend’s dad was involved. The one thing Logan did not want to do, not now nor ever in his lifetime, was allow Virgil to get hurt without helping him. The older felt as though it were his personal duty, as he was Virgil’s self-proclaimed older brother, to protect him. The obvious signs of severe neglect and touch starvation that the younger exhibited broke Logan’s heart into a million different pieces, but he never knew how to help.

Whenever Virgil would arrive at Logan’s back door with pleading and fear in his eyes, Logan’s inner speculation worsened. The purple-haired boy would rarely tell the older just how he got the wounds scarring his skin, and if he did, it was only small excuses. On the worst night that he saw him (March 21st, to be exact), Virgil confessed that he was mugged, but the assailant didn't get away with much in the way of money, only in hurting the smaller.  Logan wanted to believe this, but with the way Virgil squirmed and refused to maintain eye contact, he couldn’t. The best logical explanation to Logan’s favorite human being constantly rough around the edges with broken and bruised skin was parental abuse.

The figures don't lie either. It is significantly more likely for a parent who lost their spouse to abuse their child, all the while more probably for them to blame their child for the death. Once Logan added Virgil’s father’s alcoholism, neglect of his child, and Virgil’s skin as evidence, it was all the too likely that Virgil was being abused. And what could Logan do other than fix him up when he asked and offer a safe place to sleep? Virgil hasn’t disclosed any factual words about Logan’s speculation. The younger rarely asked for anything concerning safety or care for wounds either. All Logan had to go on was probability. Since he swore many months ago that he wouldn’t ask questions in exchange for Virgil being more comfortable with going to Logan for help, he couldn’t ask any questions either. But now, it seemed as thought Logan was about to get all the questions he stored inside his head answered. Hopefully.

When he turned back toward his friend, Virgil gave a fleeting upright twitch of his lip. Logan followed and gave his own, ignoring his current lengthy thought process. The oldest Brian child opened the door wider to make room for his younger friend on the porch to enter. “What are you doing out there still? Come on, it’s cold.”

With that last remark, Virgil entered Logan’s house and the two ventured to Logan’s room in the back of the house. Virgil would like to have said that his hands were shaking from the cold, but that was certainly not the case. Not one bit.

next part

[lostinthefrigginwoods]

Midsummer with the family, or as I like to call it, teen grows increasingly murderous.

[delimeful]

to taste your beating heart (7)

warnings: vampire au, dissociation, silly goofy vampire worldbuilding moments, remus pov so intrusive thoughts/gore mention/etc., references to past abuse/trauma

-

It took a while for Virgil to drag himself back up into complete consciousness.

Rather than stay and sit with him, Janus had immediately resorted to scheming, AKA, his primary coping mechanism for when he had to deal with upsetting emotions.

He’d exchanged a glance with Remus, silently assigning him babysitting duty, and then swept off to the den to discuss how he planned to destroy whatever coven had done this from the inside out. Logan had started contributing to the scheming before they’d even fully left the room, and Patton had followed them to either belatedly try and apply the brakes to that trainwreck or convince them to stop pulling the brakes on his own attempted trainwreck.

Honestly, the guy should know better by now. Not only was Janus an unstoppable force of self-care when he wanted to be, if they’d let Patton get away with that self-sacrificial bullshit, Virgil would have had their asses on a platter once he got back.

Wait, no, Virgil was already here. They’d found him, he just wasn’t himself. Had a funky new nickname and everything. Remus shook his head a bit, trying to get the thoughts to fall into place properly instead of bouncing around like wasps in a jar.

This was the problem with having vampire instincts that were more convoluted and twisty than a maze made out of rusty corkscrews. Sure, he got that this was Virgil’s face and body and goofy emo bangs, but his brain latched onto details like the glowing eyes and fresh-out-of-the-coffin smell and told him baby vamp instead.

The appropriate behavior for dealing with a distressed baby vamp did not include Janus swanning off to pretend like he’d never heard of an emotional crisis in his life, but luckily Remus was there to pick up the slack.

Planting his butt on the linoleum a few feet away from the corner ‘Anx’ had wedged himself into, Remus cleared his throat with a few obnoxious, phlegm-filled noises before starting up one of the few vampire-specific sounds that were audible even to humans.

The separation call was a low trill, one that burbled out in short staccato bursts, like a songbird’s chirrups but squeakier. Allegedly, it was similar to the noises bats made to communicate, which was about 60% of the reason that Remus was still of the firm opinion that vampires totally could turn into bats, everyone but him was just too limp-dick to really try.

Predictably, Anx’s head jolted up, the call catching his attention the way words hadn’t. His eyes were still a little distant, but they were at least seeking out Remus… and then settling on him with no recognition whatsoever.

Talk about a stake to the chest. He hadn’t realized how bad it would feel to have Virgil staring at him like a stranger. Remus thought he would honestly prefer it if Virgil had reverted to that one phase in his teens where he’d tried to stab Remus whenever he’d appeared on Janus’s behalf for check-ins.

He pushed past the knotted little ball of grief in his throat and made the chirp-call again, glad that this was one aspect of vampirism that he excelled at. Janus mostly stuck to the more subsonic vocalizations, but even those could come out a little wonky if he was all twisted up about something and ignoring his instincts.

Since Remus’s instincts were turned up to eleven pretty much always, he didn’t have that problem. Even with his calls coming out perfect, though, Anx was slow to respond. The baby vamp would inch forward a bit and then pause, all tense muscles and perked ears, before inching forward again.

It was… unnatural. Remus wasn’t a part of the coven that had turned Virgil– he planned to burn that coven to the ground with the vamps inside, actually– so a rejection wouldn’t have been unreasonable, but this wasn’t a rejection. It was just a very strange, stilted approach.

More than anything, it seemed as though Anx was waiting for someone to notice his response to the call and punish it, which was so antithetical to the idea of a call meant to reunite younger members of covens with the older protectors that Remus had to spend a few moments blinking away the haze of murderous intent that clouded his vision upon realizing it.

This wasn’t the time for murder, he reminded himself. This was the time for reassuring babies.

He added a crooning undertone to the next call, and was careful not to twitch as Anx finally crossed the last of the distance to slot neatly under Remus’s uplifted arm. He did that painful little tense pause again, but when all Remus did was start up a contented rumble, he went floppy against his side.

The last vamps he’d been with had hurt him for this, but he was still trusting Remus not to do the same. The thought made something in his chest feel bizarrely squishy.

“What are you doing?” Roman whispered furiously, as though he was worried that talking too loud would somehow make V’s dissociative fugue state worse.

“Come on, Ro-bro,” he replied from where he was squashing Virgil against his side and nearly vibrating with the force of his purr-rumble, “I know you don’t get bitches, but even you have to know how cuddling works.”

Roman made a face at him, but drifted closer regardless, watching Anx with a complicated mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Remus spared a second to be glad that his brother had never registered to his instincts as anything but a colony member, even back when they’d sort-of kind-of been trying to kill each other. That weird organ-squashing feeling seemed to correlate with how much trust his kinda-baby-brother-turned-baby-vamp was placing in him at the moment, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to endure not disemboweling anyone he viewed as even a minor threat the moment they got in range.

“I thought he was freaking out,” Roman said, giving the floor a distasteful look before sighing and sitting next to them. That was what he got for wearing white pants like a chump.

“Yep,” Remus confirmed. “I’m un-freaking him. Duh.”

“Impossible. You’re like the freakiest person I know,” Roman replied, earning himself a fastpass ticket to being put in a one-armed headlock.

The resulting swearing and wrestling jostled Anx slightly, and this time when his gaze flickered over to them, he was actually seeing them.

After a beat of processing where he now sat, Anx went entirely rigid, fingers curling in preparation to strike like the flashing of a cornered alley cat’s claws.

“Emo!” Remus greeted, keeping his left side loose and unthreatening even as Roman made dramatic choking noises from his right. “Welcome back to the land of the unliving!”

Anx stared at him apprehensively, pupils blown wide to catch every movement, and when Remus only sat there and continued his casual soothing rumble, he glanced at Roman’s thrashing with badly-hidden concern.

“Are you… killing the hunters?” he asked, looking like he was itching to start a fight about it but he knew in his little vamp heart that Remus could kick his ass into next week.

Not that he would. Who would fight a baby?

But man, Anx must have checked out early if he hadn’t even heard enough earlier to cotton on to the weird detente that Janus had with these guys. “Nah, just applying a little mild strangulation! It’s affectionate in nature.”

Anx didn’t look like he believed him, so Remus loosened his grip enough for Roman to wiggle free, making sure he ruined his perfectly coiffed hair in the process, of course.

“You loathsome, loutish, lawless little leech!” Roman cried, grabbing the hilt of his sword with a flourish that was all show.

But he was still grabbing a weapon next to a twitchy anxious newly-turned vamp, proving that he had not a single brain cell to rattle around in that thick skull of his. Honestly, it was like Remus was the only one with a little decorum around here!

Rather than shy away, however, Anx made a low growl in his chest, a baby version of the ‘my colony member, back off or lose a limb’ noise. He blinked afterwards, seeming almost as surprised as Roman about it, but there was no lying when it came to primal vamp noises.

Remus couldn’t have stopped the delighted, lip-splitting grin if he’d wanted to.

“Aw, you like me,” he singsonged, and was utterly unsurprised when Anx responded by growling and shoving him hard enough to make him topple over. He didn’t resist the momentum, cackling all the way down to a slumped position on the floor.

Yeah, that was definitely Virgil. Even if he did look alarmed and confused at his own daring.

“Hold it, is this a normal vampire thing? I thought the creature noises were just you being you,” Roman asked in an accusatory tone, seemingly ignoring Anx apart from the way his hands were now carefully positioned away from any visible weaponry.

For about a fraction of a millisecond, Remus contemplated the possible repercussions of throwing Janus under all six wheels of the double decker bus that was Virgil’s band of emotionally constipated hunters.

About as quickly, he remembered he didn’t give a shit. Also, it would probably be really funny.

“You just think that because your main point of vamp contact is Janus. You’d have better luck prying emotional vulnerability from a rabid raccoon than that guy. Also, I guess most other vamps you three meet instantly attempt to maul you to death. Or run away, y’know, if they’re boring.” He stretched, making his back pop grotesquely.

“A rabid raccoon, huh.” Roman was looking at Anx contemplatively now. “Do you think vampirism counts as a form of rabies?”

Anx bared his teeth halfheartedly, but he seemed mostly preoccupied now with glancing between Remus, still sprawled out on the kitchen tile, and the door to the den.

“Why are you so…,” he trailed off, sounding confused and sort of miserable.

“Annoying? Vexing? Gross?” Roman listed helpfully, kicking in Remus’s general direction when he started preening at the “praise”.

“Safe?” Anx tried, and then shook his head like a dog trying to shake free a tick. “You’re not, you’re with him, but you feel…,” he grimaced, switching tracks. “If you’re not here for the hunters, you’re here for me. What do you want with me?”

Remus stared at the kitchen ceiling and contemplated deeply for a moment. “Mostly, I want to try pitching you into the air like a baseball.”

This was a thought he had about babies frequently, which was why he didn’t ever stick around when they were present. Luckily, baby vampires were far more resilient than mortal ones.

Anx stared blankly. Roman sighed with the exhaustion of one who had been subjected to this particular idea before. “You cannot ‘fastball special’ a baby. He’s not even a baby, he’s a grown man!”

Remus made an extremely dubious face, and Anx bristled in offense. The infant energies were off the chart with that one.

“What’s got you so freaked out about Janus, anyhow?” Roman continued, and Anx’s eyes flickered back over to the doorway with no little wariness.

He didn’t answer, so Remus decided to cut apart the middle man and spill the details himself. “It’s because Janabanana is a coven head, isn’t it?”

Anx stiffened in a way that meant his guess was right on the money. Remus propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at him intently until their eyes locked.

He ticked options off on his fingers, one by one. “Can’t be how strong he is, ‘cuz I’m stronger. Can’t be bad blood, ‘cuz you don’t remember him. So, it’s gotta be the only other thing you’d be able to pick up within minutes of meeting him: coven head.” Remus shrugged casually. “I mean, they’re easy enough to identify by scent. You’ve met one, you recognize them all.

“So, what’s got you all nervous, Count Dorkula? Bad experiences with the one you met?”

“None of your business,” he snapped, his spine stiff. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Despite the snarl in his voice, he looked only a moment away from retreating back to that dissociative shutdown.

Roman shot him a warning glance over Anx’s head, which Remus would have given him shit about if Anx’s response hadn’t just proved that it was actually extremely reasonable to be concerned about whatever the hell was going on in the gray matter of the vamp in front of them.

Still, pressing now wasn’t going to do anything for any of them. Remus shrugged and flopped himself back down against the floor, letting his head hit the tile with a dull crack to make Roman cringe. “Yeah, alright. Enough about that, then. Back to our original conversation; how do you feel about heights?”

“What?” Anx asked, bewildered. The utter confusion he was feeling at not being interrogated or otherwise tortured for information was not making Remus feel any less homicidal about his former coven, but it at least seemed to knock some clarity back into the baby vamp.

“Heights,” Remus repeated. “The sort of thing you would experience if you were, say, thrown at a supernatural speed into the air? In a manner similar to the act of throwing some sort of spherical object used for sportsgames? Hypothetically but also for real.”

“No,” Roman interjected immediately, like the buzzkill he was. “You are not throwing V– Anx around the house at mach speed. Janus will murder us both for endangering his already-traumatized family member, and then Logan will find a way to bring us back to life just to kill us again for destroying the furniture.”

“I’ve always wanted to get the full Frankenstein experience,” Remus mused brightly, and then rolled out of the way of his brother’s attempt to elbow him right in the solar plexus. He was midway through shoving Roman into a retaliatory chokehold when a throat cleared pointedly.

“I see you two have been very productive while I’ve been gone,” Janus drawled from where he’d snuck silently into the room so he could insert himself into the discussion with a snarky comment at the perfect moment. Classic Janus.

Of course, this has the side effect of making Anx jump like a cat faced with a cucumber, and the guy now looked one wrong move from crabwalking himself backwards into the security of the corner once more. Janus very carefully kept his mask of sardonic amusement at others’ expenses in place.

Honestly. Awkwardness must have run in the family or something.

Remus reached around and squished Anx into a sidehug briefly, long enough to roll his eyes at Janus over his head, before releasing him and springing to his feet. “See you around, hellspawn! Remember, if you commit a felony, I’ve got you covered like mold on an abandoned slice of cheese. Especially if it’s one of those really messy ones we talked about!”

This was confusing enough to drag some of Anx’s attention from his overwhelming wariness, and as a bonus, it distracted everyone else in the room from watching Janus experience emotional devastation in real time.

“I don’t think there’s any feloneed for that,” Patton said with a nervous laugh. He was making alarmed eye contact with Roman, who would now take the fall for seemingly allowing Remus to impart extensive knowledge of felonies upon their amnesiac teammate.

His job done, he gave Anx a hair tousle and the three stooges a customized version of a jaunty farewell salute (now with 200% more middle-fingers!) before following Janus back out of the sickeningly domestic little house and slamming the door shut behind them.

(He had already broken 4 sets of door hinges for this place, and was gunning for a fifth, but alas, the door remained upright. Not today, it seemed. Probably because Logan had started enchanting the damn things like the sore loser he was.)

On the porch, Janus turned away to compose himself, a bit of vulnerability that only Remus was allowed to be privy to. Remus didn’t say anything aloud, but he knew that Janus picked up on his subvocal hum, an ‘I’m here’ that wasn't spoken in words and didn’t require a response.

After a few moments of patiently waiting, he watched as Janus turned back towards the rest of the world. He’d pried each fragment of the sharp, jagged-glass hurt he felt about Virgil from his heart, and aimed them outwards.

At those who had dared to steal his only remaining family away. At those who had made sure Virgil remembered fear, even when he didn’t recall anything else. At those who had dared to spit in the face of the city’s most powerful coven leader.

It was time they got a little reminder of just why Janus had earned that title.

And just as promised, Remus would be right at his side.

[all-the-names-are-taken-aaaaa]

Marinette was tired. She had been staring at the ceiling for three hours. Picking up her phone an article popped up on the screen. "Bruce Wayne and his adopting addiction"

Sitting up thoughts rushed through her mind.

The waynes interacted with the bat family at least monthly. Would her parents even notice. They hadn't spent much time with her since she was ten. As the years went by the shop took more priority than her more anx more.

So she filled out the papers and sent them in the mail. She had kaalki so she could come back and possibly get help from the batfamly. Be away from lila drama. Be in Jaggeds home town. It all made sense to the sleep deprived teen. That is until she finally got some sleep but by that point the papers were already sent. Not like Bruce Wayne would actually adopt her right?

Bruce sat staring at the adoption papers on his desk for about 30 minutes. "Alfred prepare a room for a 16 year old girl."

[beelzebub-tiredtimes]

*•.¸♡ Rҽϙυҽʂƚιɳɠ Rυʅҽʂ!! ♡¸.•*

Requests are OPEN!

◦•●◉✿ 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 ✿◉●•◦

*Drabbles

*Headcanons (My fav)

*Scenarios

*One Shots

*SFW

*Fluff

*Platonic

*Romantic

*Matchups (not at the moment)

*Gn!Mc, M!Mc, Trans!Mc [FtM/MtF], Child!Mc, Teen!Mc, Demon!Mc, Angel!Mc, and Hybrid!Mc[s], Lesbian!Mc, Gay!Mc, etc. (the only way I will write female mc is if mc is MtF trans)

*Anx!ety/Pan!ck Attacks

*E!t!ng D!s!rd!rs

*S!lf H!rm

*Su!c!dle Thoughts (But not full on Su!ci!de!!)

*K!ll!ng/M!rd!r

*Cheating

*Crazy Mc!

*Maybe Yandere

◦•●◉✿ 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕕𝕠 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 ✿◉●•◦

*I do NOT write Female Mc, suicide, rape, pedophilia, incest, oc, NSFW, or abo/omegaverse

◦•●◉✿ ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤 ✿◉●•◦

*Please be polite when requesting

*I only write character x reader! So please no character x character

*I like to write happy blurbs, so bring me the fluff :)

*Anything with Luke is platonic!!!

*Please try to be as detailed as possible in your request, it would help a lot

*Please specify the gender/type you want Mc to be when requesting - otherwise Mc will automatically be GN!Human!

*Pls only request up to 5 characters when requesting! It can be a mix between the brothers, royals, and purgatory hall!

*I usually do angst or comfort! No in-between! You can request a part two for comfort after angst ^^

*It takes me a while to get inspiration, so I'm sorry if there's a delay in writing your requests

*I will not write any topic that makes me uncomfortable

*I love making familiar platonic requests! (mother / cousin / son… of some character)

*English is my first language but I suck at it so pls be patient with me!

◦•●◉✿ ¡𝔽𝔼𝔼𝕃 𝔽ℝ𝔼𝔼 𝕋𝕆 𝕊𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕄𝔼 ℝ𝔼ℚ𝕌𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕊! ✿◉●•◦

[spiral-gender]

Can I request a pronoun finding? Things related to explosions/bombs and teenage angst, thanks.

bomb / bombs / bombself

boom / booms / boomself

ka / boom / kaboomself

ex / explosions / explosionself

blast / blasts / blastself

spark / sparks / sparkself

fire / fires / fireself

teen / teens / teenself

angst / angsts / angstself

anx / anxious / anxiouself

tem / temper / temperself

💣 / 💣s / 💣self

🧨 / 🧨s / 🧨self

💥 / 💥s / 💥self

[belezaesperta]

life advice for your 1st year at college

 Realize your experience doesn’t have to be universal - I’m making this post with the assumption that most freshmen are in their late teens and early twenties, for example, but I also want to emphasize that that’s not the case for everyone - I, myself, only started got in at the university I’m currently attending 3 years after finishing high school. People come from all different backgrounds on college. So, if you ever feel ashamed about something surrounding your background, remember to, rather, try to embrace your differences and the unique perspective you can bring to your classroom and course. 

On that note, try your best not to compare with other people - or even to yourself. You don’t have to always be the best at everything, just like you don’t have to constantly be overcoming your own records or limits. Please remember that growth isn’t linear. You don’t need to be better all the time. Sometimes you just need to be, and that’s enough. 

Please learn how to cook oh my god can’t emphasize this enough - it will save you Such an amount of money when you don’t eat out all the time. It honestly just takes practice and patience. I personally think making sure you’re eating well and healthy it’s the most important thing you can learn to do in order to take care of yourself at this phase. It will help your overall health and wellbeing; also, it’ll be rly important when you feel lonely and homesick and just want a meal that tastes homemade. Also!! Try to learn how to make your comfort foods!! It might come Very useful after a particular hard day.

On that note, learn the things that bring you comfort in those times where you feel down; make a mental or physical note if you must. If you have a comfort food, for example, you can always leave those ingredients somewhere in your kitchen, so that you don’t have to go through the hustle of buying them when you need them. You can also make d*pression or anx*ety boxes, where you keep a bunch of things that might make you feel better/calmer. I can make a post elaborating more on these if you guys are interested! :)

Don’t feel pressured to do everything at once. 

A lot of times, done is better than perfect. Whenever you can, try to have fun with it.

Teachers aren’t perfect. It doesn’t matter where they teach, which class they teach, which academic background they have, they can be flawed too. I say this both with the intention of reminding you that they’re humans too, therefore are bound to make mistakes just like anyone else, but also as a reminder to not get intimidated by them. Whether you find yourself in a situation where you think the teacher didn’t explain a concept well enough, or you have a question, or maybe you have a feeling this teacher’s monologue is sounding a bit too elitist or too white or just lacks a certain perspective that you think might be relevant, please, raise your hand and tell (politely) your teacher so. The classroom is supposed to be a collaborative environment. Plus, if your teacher is a good one (and not one of those with big egos that don’t take contributions well and only like hearing themselves talk, which, unfortunately, happens a lot), they will be glad that you’re participating - specially now with online classes where it all just feels like they’re talking to spirits, like ‘anna, are you there??? say hello if you’re there?? pls??’, which i’m sure is hard enough. You participating and contributing to class is likely all your teachers want, really, so please do when you have the chance! It will be beneficial for the both of you.

Lastly, allow yourself to not know everything by day one, to be confused, to be lost, to not know a reference, an author. It’s part of the process to not understand everything at first glance. And, whenever you can, try to have fun with it. College can be fun, but you need to allow yourself to have fun, too.

[emiisanxious]

Sick Day

Archive of Our Own Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Additional Tags:

Sick Character

Spider Anxiety | Virgil Sanders

Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders

Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders

Logan is barely there

Remus is also barely there

Ambiguous/Open Ending

Summary: “Virgil is sick, he didn't open up about everything about him so he didn't go to Patton or Logan, he went to Janus.

The titles say everything, almost. I'm not that creative with titles/summaries.

This fic does take part in Virgil's Past and Future series (based in Ignorance and Next Day in Ignorance), although it isn't necessary to read the previous works.”

Note: Okay... My head finally was able to type a sick day fic I’m half-ish happy but, at least I feel accomplished? I don’t know. I just needed to write it.

Weirdly Virgil was tired, more tired than normal as he gets up looking at his phone to check the time, 2 pm. He didn't mind at all about it as he gets up from his bed, a bit of dizziness as he slowly places a hand over his head. Fear slowly rising as he closes his eyes, his room wasn't that bright, yet it seemed like it had a sun over his head.

"No." His tone was darker, his breath started to uneven as he gets up, taking his jacket out and so his shirt. He honestly didn't want to damage those as he walks towards his bathroom, finding what he already knew. His face was now with eight eyes, his mouth had fangs as he starts to panic.

"No no No No No NO!" He wants to yell as he looks around his room, he couldn't go out like this, he couldn't let the main core find him like this! He wrote a small note for the main core.

A few seconds later he was sinking out from his room, his safest place to the most dangerous place at all. Looking at the dark commons room, he hissed at Wrath, who tried to get near him. "Get lost." Looking at the ceiling he could see why Wrath was feeling like he could do something, the Dark Commons was getting in slow chaos.

As he didn't have the time he started to walk towards Deceit's room, luckily for him he was still good enough to walk. But... Till when? A couple of knocks, yet the yellow trait didn't open the door. So he tried again. "Dee, open up. Please?"

His tone probably did the deceitful side scared because in a second he was already opening the door looking confused. "Anx? What... Oh..." It took a few seconds for him to understand and pull the other inside. "Oh, Vee." That is all Janus could say.

"I... Every second that passes I feel more tired, more... Sick. I think..." Virgil coughed at that as he was pulled to lay down on the snake's bed.

"Right calm down okay? Can you pass the rights to me?" Janus understood exactly why the other was there. Soon he could see a purple paper appearing.

"With this paper, I give Janus the authority of the Dark Commons Room, so he can rule over while he has this paper. But the authority, this paper, of the Dark Commons Room shall be returned to me, Virgil, in seven days, this paper can't be changed by Janus. If you don't return, you shall know that Wrath will torture you for the rest of eternity." Anxiety tells the words as it appears on the paper, and so giving him to Janus.

As soon as he picks up the paper he could feel the words and the meaning, closing his eyes as he places the paper inside his cape. "Fine, what you need?" Deceit didn't seem annoyed, instead, he felt worried as he helps the purple side to lay down.

"Check on Thomas, and then Remus. If Thomas is sick, mean that Remus's nightmares won't be..." He coughs again as he lays on his stomach and soon spider's legs started to appear.

-----

"Okay." With that Janus sink out, finding Thomas and certainly, he was sick as he summons Logan, who looked at him confused. "I will make it quickly okay?" The navy trait nods, but let the yellow one keeps talking. "Thomas is sick someone needs to help him to recover. Virgil is in my room, he has spider features all over his body and isn't able to stop his tempest tongue. So, for the time been, he is staying there. Since he doesn't want you guys to see him like that."

"Oh... That explains why he let that note." Logic mused at the thought as he looks at Thomas. "Okay, I can take care of Thomas, can you...?"

Deceit cut his words, as he smirks. "Of course I can take care of Virgil. Just please, if you need to send someone to receive or deliver news, ask Roman to come. He can come by a portal in the imagination I will ask Remus to do instead of sinking in, but I highly advise to keep it minimum."

Logan nods at that as he sits down on Thomas's bed starting to take care of him.

After that, Janus was back in the Dark Commons Room, looking that the paper started to effect there, he just did what he does best. Moving the other's hand for their mouth. "I will make myself clear. I'm not the gentlest as Anxiety, so if one of you ever fuck up I will throw the person to Remus's nightmares. And we all know, how scary they are when Thomas is sick. Do you all understand?" Everyone nodded as Janus put their hands down. "Good."

He started to walk upstairs when he felt a hand over his shoulder, turning to meet blood-red eyes. But said hand was soon off him as he just sees the other trait smirking, returning to sit on the couch. Deceit ignored those thoughts as he walks towards the green and black door knocking on it. "Remus. Open up."

He got more concerned when the other didn't immediately open it, as he opens it. "Remus?" He could see the Dark Creativity laying on the bed. "Oh no... Remus! Please keep yourself awake!" Janus was soon at his side shaking him.

The man in question opens up his eyes slowly. "J?" His tone was weak and concerned. "What is happening?"

Deceit pulled him up. "Come on, let's go to my bedroom." They both did their way for the yellow door, as soon as they were there the lying side helped the other to lay down on the now free bed. Since Virgil was hanging in the ceiling sleeping. "Okay, so Thomas is sick. Which means, sick time. I guess."

"Oh..." Remus's voice was hoarse. "That explains, why I'm thinking nothing... Wait... The nightmares!"

"Yeah... Don't worry about that." Virgil says as he summons one spider, the height was around their waist. "Just... Urgh, I hate when this happens." His voice was back to normal as he isn't repressing his trait anymore.

"Oh! Scare bear didn't see you there." Although Dark Creativity was joking it was easy to see that he was pale and with no malice, almost sounding like Roman.

"Okay, now Remus I need you to create a portal for your brother's side of imagination to here." Janus said as he sits down on the chair.

Remus didn't like it, as he frowns, but he looked around finding a full mirror, so he used that as the portal. "Done... It's in his castle."

"Thanks." Deceit says as he thinks. "Now you two sleep, I will find or do something you both can eat."

Both of the males growled at that, not liking how the yellow trait was treating them, but both couldn't do anything as they just looked at each other and closed their eyes.

Janus chuckled at that as he goes to the kitchen and started to do something for them to eat. He shouldn't be happy, but he was. And the only reason was that Virgil still trusted them more when he was sick, to the point to actually stay there with them.

He was happy about it, he wanted to be with the other more, after all, it was Anxiety that changed everything around. That makes them better.

Note: I couldn't type a good end, I don't know why I wanted to type this so bad to the point of giving me writer's block in all other fics. But yeaaaaaah I finally did it! Even though it's NOT my proudest fic, I'm just satisfied that I challenged myself on that and was finally able to type and end up somewhere half-ish happy.