What Are Y’all Talking About?

Check out my sister! All dressed up and stuff! (at WasabiCon)

I’m sure it’s easy to tell but, I have an Instagram now. By popular demand of everyone I know, it’s finally happened. Woot, I guess...

A small crisis in the choir space...

Bruh, same.

Have you ever realized the story you’re writing is destined to be absolute trash and then kept writing anyways? Yeah that’s what I’m doing. This au will not be my best work but I do not give a darn. I’m going to ruin my fanfic writing career with a smile on my stupid looking face.

Suggested alternate ending: Patton decides to join in by throwing knives.

Logan opens his door to see what all the commotion is about and just sees Virgil sprinting down the hall past him with deceit in his arms, both of them screaming. Then Patton also sprints past, still throwing knives, cackling like a madman. Logan blinks and then just shuts his door and decides he needs to take a break or something from literally everything.

Roman eventually comes out to see what’s up and ends up having to join Virgil and deceit in sprinting away from Patton who remains delighted as he chases everyone around the house.

Then Virgil gets cornered, after valiantly saving the other two from the same fate by shoving them into a closet moments beforehand, and Patton just launches several knives at him at once and Virgil is pretty sure that Patton won’t kill him and that he can’t actually die from a physical injury but he’s also pretty sure that this is the moment when he dies and then he kind of just sits there for a moment in confusion when nothing actually happens to him. And then Patton is laughing even more than before and Virgil is confused for a second until he picks up one of the knives and realizes that they were actually just dull plastic knives that looked like real ones and Patton is just dying of laughter because Virgil just looks so incredibly confused and the others had been running so frantically for so long and this was a risky prank that totally paid off because Virgil hadn’t had a panic attack, nobody had gotten hurt, and this had been so much fun. And then Virgil starts laughing too and they’re both dying on the floor, leaning against each other and shaking from the force of their guffaws.

Then Roman and deceit come out of the closet(lol, *coughs* sorry. It’s a reflex.) to figure out why the two had been laughing so much for so long and Patton just looks at Virgil and Virgil instantly knows what he has to do.

So he stands up wielding a handful of knives and grins in the craziest way he can, which is absolutely terrifying because he’s anxiety and he knows how to look scary better than anyone else, and just says one thing in the scariest and most warped version of his voice possible.

“Run”

And they instantly scramble to escape as Patton starts cackling again and yelling for them to come back so they can play together and that was already scary before but now Virgil is also sprinting alongside him and booming with his own terrifying evil laughter and Logan is in the kitchen now as everyone just continues to run around the house frantically.

He ignores the screams of Roman and deceit as he makes some tea for himself and doesn’t even blink when all four of them scramble into the commons for a moment. He does, however, pull out his own little stash of plastic knives that he had simply picked up from where they were lying after Patton threw them earlier and wields them at the the two “victims” when they try to hide behind him.

The game lasts for a while after that until eventually deceit just gives up and throws himself at Virgil, who almost pokes him in the gut with some of the knives he’s holding as he catches him, and declares that he now owes him some cake and cuddles for being so terrifying the entire time(I headcanon that deceit is cold, like, all the time so he always wants cuddles and Virgil is both always warm from wearing a hoodie all the time, a very good cuddler that makes the others feel safe, and always down to cuddle so long as he’s not the one who has to initiate it. So deceit tends to just go and flop on him whenever he pleases and Virgil is totally ok with that cus deceit always knows when he is and isn’t ok with physical contact or anything beforehand so he only does it when Virgil is gonna be cool with it.) and Virgil just laughs and leaves Patton and Roman to finish the game themselves while he carries the danger noodle back to the common area to relax on the couch with Logan and watch some history channel shows.

Eventually, Roman decides to end the game by dramatically dying in the common area while Patton tosses knives at him, giggling the entire time.(Roman and deceit had realized pretty quickly after Virgil also started throwing knives that they were fake because they knew that the anxious side would never do somethjng that could actually cause them harm and he had better aim than Patton so it was pretty easy to figure it out when the knives were just harmlessly pinging off of them)

And then everyone kind of just collapses into a pile on the couch and switches to watching lilo and stitch and Patton eventually makes a chocolate cake later that day for deceit and makes Romans favorite food for dinner while Virgil makes sure to visit Roman the next day to have a fun Disney marathon with just the two of them and gives deceit some extra affectionate cuddles for the rest of the day.

And when Thomas eventually finds out about the incident he asks why nobody tried to stop Patton when he suddenly started throwing knives at everyone and Roman, deceit, and Logan say that they just assumed Virgil would do somethjng if he thought it was actually too dangerous and Virgil just says that he assumed Patton wouldn’t actually kill them even if they were real knives. Patton finds this a sweet thing to say and gives his dark strange son a hug while Thomas wonders how he’s still alive if the embodiment of his survival instinct just assumes that he will be fine if someone aggressively throws knives at him, so long as they don’t mean to murder him directly.

———————————

And that’s my alternate ending to this spectacular tale of Virgil and deceit’s utensil war.

I ended up making this a bit longer than I’d intended but, whatever.

This was fun to think up and at least partially satisfied my need to have some fluffy sympathetic deceit stuff so I am content with that.

2 Virgil to Deceit

2: “Are you seriously throwing forks at me?”

Virgil jumped from his spot on the couch as something hard hit him in the side. He looked at the something. It was a fork.

He looked around the room before his eyes landed on a certain snake ducking behind the kitchen counter.

“Are you seriously throwing forks at me?”

Deceit chuckled. “No.” He said, throwing another fork at Virgil.

“Yes you are.”

“I most certainly am not.” Another fork.

“Can you stop?”

“Yes.” Another damn fork.

Virgil growled, storming towards the kitchen. “That’s it, loser. You’re on.”

It was at this point that Patton heard shouting coming from the kitchen.

“Guys, are you oh… kay…”He fought to keep himself from laughing at the scene he walked in on. This scene being Deceit holding a fistful of forks in one hand, the other holding a fork and reeled back, ready to throw, and Virgil on the other side of the room, standing on a chair, with a handful of spoons in his hand, more sticking out of his pockets, and also ready to throw. There were forks and spoons all over the floor.

They caught sight of Patton at the same time and dropped their ammunition, both pointing at the other with a shout of, “He started it!”

Patton had an amused smile on his face. “I’m sure one of you did.” He let the smile drop, serious Dad Face in its place, “Now clean this up, kiddos.”

I’m so bad at sleeping it’s hilariously tragic...

Why is it that whenever I make myself a proper sleeping schedule to follow I end up not being able to follow it? Like, seriously?

I actually really liked going to sleep at a normal time...

Back before I cannibalized my headband.

Look at my boss ass shoes. I was dying eventually but it was worth it.

Y’know, I had this weird plan to separate myself from everyone. I figured if I just left and didn’t look back, then I could just stay by myself and nobody would bother me.

The plan was super simple. Just stop going to school, don’t make unnecessary contact online, and tell everyone when you see them that your doing fine by yourself. Tell them you prefer being by yourself, and they’ll leave you alone.

It worked.

The plan worked perfectly and, for the most part, I’m alone again.

I’m alone again.

Nobody really cares about me or my life. about the things that I like or dislike. Sometimes they say they do but I don’t really believe them. I have no reason to. It’s not like they’ve given me one. They’re always lying about themselves anyways. Hiding things from me, only to say them when they think I’ve left the room. That’s fine. I get that. The need to vent about your feelings is understandable and I’m not a very nice person to begin with, so I get why people don;t like me.

I wish that they did though.

I don’t like being alone.

I say that I do, but that’s not really true.

I just don’t like being scared and that’s all I ever seem to feel when I’m around people. I’m scared that I’ll mess up somehow and they’ll hate me like so many others already do.

(they all left me)

I hate that.

I hate that part of me that everyone seems to despise.

(all of me they hate all of me and so do i because i should)

That part of me relishes in those terrible feelings, in being feared and looked at with disgusted eyes. That part of me thinks it’s hilarious how much these feelings affect the rest of me.

“It’s fine.” She says with her sickening smiles and empty eyes.

(terrifying monster makes me sick want to vomit)

“It’s not.” I mutter because I’m too tired to say it louder.

(so tired just want sleep stop it let it stop please)

It’s always been like this and that’s not fine but it also is.

(its not it never was)

Because I’m worthless and that’s just how it is has been and always will be.

(it hurts)

That’s fine.

(its not)

I’m not though.

(im not)

...

The plan worked.

(it hurts)

I’m alone again.

(i didnt want it)

I’m not as happy about that as I thought I’d be.

(i wasnt happy to begin with)

(we never were)

In third grade I had a teacher who really hated my parents. I don’t know why she felt this way but she did. So she used to take out her hatred of them on me during class.

Now, I was a very outgoing and happy kid back then. I liked performing on stage and talking to people and doing my best with everything, including school work. So I always tried to be really nice to my teachers, bringing them gifts on holidays, offering to help in the classroom, giving them hugs whenever I came to or left class. I saw them as people to respect and appreciate, because that’s what I felt they deserved. And that was fine in the past but it kind of just made things worse during that year.

I did everything I’d always done but it was never rewarded. Instead, I was constantly being yelled at and singled out. I was never allowed to talk for any reason, even if I just answered a question she would say that I was talking too much or too loud but she would also accuse me of ignoring the lesson and being bad whenever I just remained silent. Even outside of the classroom I wasn’t allowed to talk.

I vividly remember one day when we were all having a bathroom break, I went into the bathroom and realized that there were no more napkins. So I told one of the other girls, because I was too afraid to tell the teacher, but the teacher still heard me from outside of the bathroom and came in to shout at me for talking during the break. She didn’t care why I was talking, she just didn’t want me to talk.

She never treated the other kids like this. She only ever yelled at me for my “bad” behavior.

Eventually, I started trying to find ways to avoid her and school all together. The solution I used the most was to make myself physically sick or injured so that I could go to the nurses office. I used to hurt myself whenever no one was looking so that I could say I’d bruised myself or I’d make myself not eat anything or eat bad things so that I had a stomach ache. I eventually learned how to force my mind into believing that I was sick. I even figured out how to make my stomach churn so that I could throw up on purpose.

I was just so scared of staying in school with that teacher that I was willing to do anything to get out of there. Unfortunately, this meant I got in trouble for truancy. So me and my mom had to go and talk to the vice principal.

I don’t remember everything from that meeting, but I do remember her leaning over her desk, looking me straight in the eye, and saying “You don’t want your mommy to get arrested because of you, do you?”.

And it was honestly one of the most horrifying things I have ever experienced in my life.

I mean, I was a child. I was seven.

And this woman just straight up told me my mom was gonna get arrested because of me.

I was terrified.

My dad was living in Virginia at the time, since he was still in the navy back then, and my sisters were still teenagers so my mom was all I had. She supported us and took care of us and now she was gonna be arrested and it was all my fault.

I immediately started crying.

But my mom, who knew better and was already upset about me being in the meeting in the first place, left in an outrage. She spoke to some other school employees about what had happened and filed various complaints and things and then she took me back home.

I don’t remember most of that year past a few of the more distressing events and a lot of memories of sitting in the nurses office. But I know that, after that year, the vice principal was fired and the teacher became a teachers assistant and was no longer allowed to teach classes by herself anymore.

But, unfortunately, the damage had already been done to me. I was no longer an outgoing and happy kid. I was terrified of talking after that. This ended up extending to me being terrified of interacting with people at all and, eventually, a fear of leaving my house.

By the time I entered middle school, I had no friends and had no idea how to interact with people past ignoring them or just being polite to them. My fear of everything led to me being bullied which led to everyone being scared of me when I fought back. I ended up failing a lot of classes, despite knowing and understanding all of the material, because I was too scared to talk to the teachers and I was just so tired of school at that point, and always feeling instinctively unwell, that I usually just took naps or read books during class.

Despite that, I worked hard to improve on myself and fix what I knew to be wrong. I entered spelling bees, I auditioned for talent shows, I won science fairs, I got awards for reading the most books, I got into marching band, I made some friends, and I got into anime. I did a lot in middle school in the hopes of making myself better as a person.

But when i got into high school, the transition kind of made me regress.

I lost all of my friends again, since I wasn’t interested in sex and dating while all of my other friends were, and I was placed into all advanced courses alongside my extra curricular activities. The stress quickly got to me and I ended up slacking on my classes and eventually dropping my extra curricular. All of the drama from the few friends I still had made me lose them as well. And everyone was still scared of me from middle school.

But, thankfully, I had a single saving grace.

Or really, two saving graces.

I joined choir that year and it was one of the best things that could have possibly happened to me. The choir instructor was an amazing woman who told me early on that I had a good voice that would only get better if I was brave enough to use it properly. She taught me all about singing, everything from reading music to properly projecting my voice. She gave me special attention and told me she was proud when I got into the talent show that year. And when I performed in the talent show(after spending almost ten full years auditioning for shows and never getting in)I made almost everyone in the audience cry.

It all did wonders for my self-esteem. I felt more like myself that year than I had in so very long.

Alongside my choir instructor was my creative writing teacher.

He was actually known throughout the school as the craziest and most troublesome teacher. He didn’t pull his punches and was brutally honest with all of his students. He was ex-military and it was pretty easy to tell, not from his appearance and maybe not even from his attitude to most, but to me it was obvious because he acted just like my dad. He was crazy and kind of rude but he was always looking out for his students and trying to help us learn in whatever way we could. I only had him for creative writing that year but it had a huge impact on me. He didn’t know why I acted the way I did but he always tried to find ways to make me talk. He’d ask me questions, he’d randomly move things away from my desk, he’d ask to talk about my writing, or he’d seat me next to people he thought I would talk to.

But he never really pushed me.

We were all supposed to read our work out loud, that was part of the class. But he always asked me if I was willing to do it. He never said that I had to and always gave me a choice. I think I only ever did it once or twice but he always made sure I knew how happy he was for me to talk. He encouraged my writing as well, always telling me how I could improve and what I was already doing well. And always trying to remind me that I was the only one who could limit myself.

That first year of high school had a huge impact on my life.

My second year was less useful.

I ended up having a scheduling conflict that kept me from entering choir and I didn’t have any classes with my old creative writing teacher.

But I ran into him sometimes.

And he always recognized me and usually said hi and checked in on how I was doing and ruffled my hair and called me random nicknames.

And the next year I got back into choir.

We had a new instructor but she was also pretty nice. She liked my voice as well and tried to encourage me to the best of her ability.

And my creative writing teacher found me again and invited me to join a new after school club he was going to be in charge of.

So I entered the creative writing club and got back into choir.

I’d also managed to gain a pretty solid friend group by then.

I was a lot more talkative than before and way more honest with myself and other people. I still had a bad habit of hurting myself, which escalated a little that year, and sleeping through classes. But I was slowly getting better than before.

I ended up becoming a regular in detention that year because of being late to most of my classes.

It was a very conflicting year.

But my senior year brought it all to an end.

I ended up becoming the go-to soloist in my choir. I was in every choir class I was allowed to be in and I had an English class with my old creative writing teacher teaching it.

I was still in the creative writing club and I’d started going out of my comfort zone by hosting panels at conventions.

That year was probably one of the best years of school I’ve ever experienced.

I even got to see my old choir instructor again.

She even invited me to join the choir at the university she was now teaching at. I’m still planning on taking her up on that offer in a year or two, even though it’s been years and she probably doesn’t even remember me.

After that I graduated and went to college for a year before dropping out.

And I’ve been working hard since then to focus on myself. To repair the damage done by that teacher so long ago and make myself a better person.

I’m a small time voice actor now and also a small time writer.

I work hard to improve myself and work towards living my dreams with the help of my family.

I’ve accepted all aspects of myself, my depression, my anxiety, my sexuality, and my gender identity.

It took me years to get over what that woman did to me.

So I want to just say this, after this long ass rant that I’m sure nobody bothered to read, emotional abuse is not a joke.

It is not something to take lightly.

Just because you weren’t phyisically hurt by someone doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt at all.

It doesn’t make it any more or less traumatic.

And teachers are not supposed to use methods like that to teach kids.

That is wrong and fucked up and not at all what helps kids learn and develop into functioning members of society.

This doesn’t mean all teachers are bad and like that.

Some of them are amazing and can help kids grow into amazing individuals.

But those teachers that hate their job and treat kids like that are monsters.

If you are tasked with the job of helping kids grow up and learn and develop then you should work hard to do your job right instead of just taking out your own issues on kids that don’t deserve that kind of treatment.

Fuck my third grade teacher and fuck all those other teachers for being terrible human beings.

I hope all those kids look back on their emotional abuse one day and think about how much better they are now that they’re away from those terrible people.

Someone Should Talk To This Principal