#i had a bad panic attack/breakdown yesterday so i started drawing the

[0bir]

sorry im a partybeetle shipper

i like to imagine that pest and poob give each other little gifts, one of them being the pride bracelets/pins like pest is such a messy colourer and poob makes it as perfect as possible

[dear-yandere]

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!! 

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich​: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian. 

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe​, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two:  hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!

[beerecordings]

I was thinking about that Therapy AU (ish. thing. question mark?) that you brainstormed a few months back, and I find myself wondering—which of the boys realized “oh hey, I should probably see a therapist” first? And what was the impetus? (Jackie. I’m asking about Jackie. I want to know the story behind how Jackie found his Alderian/Adlerian duder and why he sprung for it. Also the thing about who came first, but Jackie. My boy. Im lov him)

lol yeah you’re right it’s not so much an au as something that i’d like to be canon in just about every universe i come up with lollll. but yeah hm…

I think Henrik goes to see a therapist first because he’s been through literal hell and there’s no way he can handle any of this without professional help. and everybody knows that, you know, like… it’s easier to justify some reasons to go than others. so even though everybody probably needs it they’re all here like “oh GEEZ someone else has had it SO MUCH WORSE than me so HE’S going to therapy” and they all end up ganging up on Henrik with their love and support like “yeah bud you need to see somebody please we’re worried about you!!” and it’s hard to argue when he’s both physically and mentally exhausted so he just ends up letting them take him. he doesn’t have his existentialist therapist at first, that’s too intensive for his mental energy at the time, but he just sees a nice calm therapist who really helps him deal with some of the outstanding issues and find ways to hold on when he’s really bad off. and the others are all so excited and supportive but for some reason when he recommends they try it too, they seem to think he’s joking?

then Chase gets court-ordered to therapy and he’s like “FUCK fine!!” and it makes him sob his heart out every week and he feels so dumb and weak and stupid for like two months before he starts to come around to it. and it’s Henrik who really convinces him that it’s okay, and then eventually it actually starts to help?? and he gets to see the kids again!!! ahh!!! it’s a good time! he and Henrik start scheduling their appointments at the same time so they can get lunch together first and then walk home together too.

JJ gets pressured by the family to join them after he starts getting into some really bad habits like getting into fights and tearing his fists open beating up his punching bag and staring at his razor for long enough that Henrik gets scared and practically drags him there himself (he would not go but he hates to see Henrik so nervous and upset). Marvin has a complete breakdown after years of being the family tough guy without crying once in front of the others and they all get freaked out and ask him to go see somebody for their sake if nothing else (he would not go but when his little brothers look at him like that) and then Jackie is there like “good job guys! I’ll just be over here! love you! :)”

cause the thing is Marvin had convinced himself that he has to be tough enough to deal with everything he goes through in silence, but Jackie is WORSE because he’s just convinced himself he doesn’t have anything to deal with. He’s the big brother, first of all, so he just doesn’t have time for that, and he’s a hero, so nothing’s going to get to him anyway, of course. and then he just hasn’t been through as much as the others, right? Henrik and JJ with Anti, and Chase with his family, and his poor Marv must have been dealing with so much so quietly for so long, and if Jackie had just been a better brother to him he wouldn’t have HAD to do that, he wouldn’t have had to hide anything from anyone, he’d come to Jackie instead of hiding his problems but he doesn’t because he doesn’t trust him enough and that’s because of Jackie’s failures and ALL OF THIS IS JACKIE’S FAULT -

yeah, no, no problems! he’s good! he’s cruising! He doesn’t have it that bad he’s fine! he only struggles sometimes cause he’s a baby, right? he should toughen up, after all he heard Henrik sobbing last night and he has it so much worse, he’s been through so much, Jackie needs to look like everything’s okay so Henrik feels safe and calm. and then everything will be better and everything will be fine. once his brothers are fine, he’ll be fine.

and then his brothers are fine.

he stops, pauses, looks around.

Chase is out with the kids, sober for a year straight. JJ’s just got a new job and he seems happy and well-adjusted. Henrik’s showing his scars without freaking out and has been dealing with his panic attacks well. Marvin admits he had a bad day but says he’s going to make tomorrow a better one! Jackie’s never heard him say anything like that in his life and he seems to mean it, what the hell is happening?

all his brothers are fine and he’s still not… what is happening…. if everyone’s okay why does he still feel so bad about himself?

The others want to go to family therapy now. Apparently JJ’s therapist keeps recommending it because so many of his issues come back to worrying about upsetting the others, and then Marvin’s therapist agrees, and they’re all pretty comfy with therapy by now, and they want to go, they want to try it. and of course he’s not going to turn them down!! yeah, they need him to be the calm big brother in the room, keeping everything together, making sure they’re all safe? of course! he’ll come and support them all!! he’s a little bit terrified at the very prospect but they need this so he’ll do it, he can do it! for their sake. if it’s for their sake it’s okay, it’s permissible, and it’s not weak because it’s not for him, it’s for them.

and then they get in there and it’s so much messier than he expected. first of all the therapist right away goes “so everyone is seeing a therapist personally but you, Jackie” and he goes hot red and feels all his brothers looking at him and makes up something about not needing that and he sees Henrik turn away from him when he says it. and then she keeps trying to draw him into it and he hates that, this wasn’t what he planned, he just wanted to sit here and tell everyone they were doing great!! and then, oh, hell, everything is coming out. everything is coming bleeding out of his brothers and it’s messy and it’s ugly and he’s not a bystander, he’s a part of it, they even say his name sometimes, they even seem to accuse him sometimes. it’s not what he expected, it’s not at all what he expected, it’s not Chase going “I’m sad sometimes when you’re sad Marvin” and Marvin going “oh no I’m sad when you’re sad let’s work on this :’((” it’s like Jameson saying “I can’t tell any of you ANYTHING because half the time you treat me like an infant and the other half of the time you get so upset that even though I want to confide in you I can’t because I know it’ll send you all spiraling, I feel like I’m not allowed to be fucking suicidal but I am and I can’t trust any of you to deal with me - ” and then before he knows it Jackie is fucking sobbing in the therapy room so hard they all have to be done for the day and JJ is sitting there staring at him like he’s just proven his point and the guilt comes crashing down and he feels like he’s dying and he REFUSES to go back next week.

they’re all upset and JJ won’t talk to him. he WON’T go back to that, that was so horrible and humiliating, he’s not doing that again, he’s NEVER trying therapy again.

his brothers go to family therapy without him. that’s fine. that’s good. they’re allowed to. he waits for things to go back to normal.

they don’t.

JJ never talks to him anymore, not about the things that matter. He says there’s no bad blood between them and most likely that’s true, but the fact is he just doesn’t trust him. can’t confide in him. Jackie starts to feel sick every time they’re together, wondering if his baby brother is suicidal right now and just hiding it from him, sitting there doing his embroidery with a movie playing on the couch, thinking about killing himself. Jackie’s starting to get upset more often. Jackie’s starting to crumble. everyone is fine, for the most part. he doesn’t want to upset that. doesn’t want to put the burden of himself on their shoulders. he’s being such a fucking baby. why is he crying himself to sleep again every night? why did he have to go hide in the bathroom for five minutes at the restaurant yesterday because someone said the word antifreeze? why does Chase teasing him about taking the last piece of cake make him want to die so badly? why isn’t he ever happy anymore? Marvin asks him if he wants to go to the arcade and he doesn’t, he isn’t up for it. energy’s gone. hasn’t had much for a long time but he could bury the exhaustion from their sight and that was all that matters. Jamie accidentally cuts his thumb one day in the kitchen and Jackie wants in and sees the blood dripping onto his wrist and he loses it, he loses it, he’s screaming, he’s shouting at JJ, and Jameson just stands there and takes it, Jameson stands there staring at him when everybody else is shouting at Jackie to cut it out, stop it, what the hell Jackie? Jamie is still standing there in silence when Jackie has a full meltdown on the kitchen floor, followed promptly by a miserable, silent, exhausted shutdown that lasts for two days afterwards.

he goes back to family therapy. it isn’t really working. he’s really tired and sad and every time someone tries to confront him about an issue in their family he might be involved in he immediately starts crying and apologizing again and again, taking all the blame on his shoulders, promising them they didn’t do anything wrong even if they did, not accepting comfort or apologies from any of them, everything’s his fault, he promises he’ll fix it, he’ll never go out on patrol again if that’s what they want. and it’s so uncomfortable for everyone and soon family therapy starts turning into “tip-toeing around Jackie while Jackie feels miserable and gets worse” and their therapist tells them this isn’t working anymore.

You need to go to a therapist, they start telling him.

I’ve been going with you all the time, he says.

No, they say, you need to go to a therapist.

Oh.

Well, he can’t do that.

Well, why not? Huh?

Because he just can’t.

Because that’s not who he is.

Why isn’t it who he is?

Jackie, why?

Jackie, say something, say anything.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Because he’s not allowed to be that. He’s not allowed to need help. He’s got to keep them safe - you don’t - I do!

fuck’s sake, Jackie. You can’t keep doing this anymore. You just can’t.

I know, he says. I know.

but he won’t go even when it’s all sitting out in the open and everyone’s staring at him like they’re waiting for him to shatter into glass because the family therapist was not what he needed and he’s scared of the questions and the feeling of being torn apart and the conflict and the sadness and he thinks all therapy’s like that and it’s not for him and he won’t go. and then one day sweet little brother number three comes and lays down with him and hugs him real tight and puts himself right there in Jackie’s arms so his big brother gets to hold him and push their heads together and hear his heartbeat and feel him rubbing at his shoulder. and Chase has probably waited for a soft calm night to tell him this but there’s this really cool thing his therapist recommended for Jackie’s sake where you don’t have to talk at all in therapy if you don’t want to. they just give you this great sand and you can run your hands all over it and then they get all these like toys and models and things out and they ask you questions like “tell me about a time when you were happy” and you just have to build, man, and work from there. and he knows he’s been so sad and tired lately and he wants him to try it because he loves him and didn’t Jackie used to try and convince him to go too?

and you wouldn’t see me as a failure if i went? and you wouldn’t think you had to take care of me? and it wouldn’t be weird for you? and you wouldn’t make fun of me for it? and nobody would ask me too many questions? and i could just build?

and Chase gives him a lot of no’s and one good solid yes, yeah, bud, you can just build, and Jackie goes two weeks later and sits down with the sand and the toys in front of him and just lets it all go and, in plastic houses and little figurines that remind him of his family and the cool soothing weight of the sand in his hands, he tells the truth at last, without ever speaking once.

plus his therapist is really funny and sweet and positive and warm with him. and she keeps going “just between you and me” and he grins and knows he can tell her anything and it doesn’t have to come back and hurt his brothers at all if he doesn’t want it to, he can even say Forbidden Horrible things like “it makes me angry when he does this” or “I wanted to kill that man that night and it scared me how strong I was” and “sometimes I think I’m just as much a mistake as Anti was” and slowly, slowly, they start to work on it. and he learns to apologize respectfully and fairly, without being accidentally manipulative, and he learns to take care of them in a way that he couldn’t before, and he learns that he’s important too, and needed and loved, even if he isn’t strong or positive or perfect every day of every year.

they start going back to family therapy once he’s ready. they keep getting more and more tools to help them put themselves and each other back together again. it’s a good fit after all.

[ladytemeraire]

I am very, very tired of my brain being broken.

(Today has been a particularly bad brain day, feel free to skip. CW for discussion of medical stuff and anxiety.)

I feel like the thing a lot of neurotypical people don’t realize is that those of us who deal with mental illness or other brain issues like ADHD are fully aware of just how absurd our neuroses and triggers are, and having to live with them is far more frustrating and exhausting than you could ever imagine. Like we know our brains are being dumb, we know it’s not logical or rational, and knowing it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference.

I thought I was holding it together okay given the state of things but hoo boy did today prove me wrong. Even with being very good about taking my meds and trying to get sleep and extending myself extra grace and self care, I’ve gone from maybe one panic attack a month to one or more per week.

Here is what prompted the latest one, transcribed as close to the frantic screaming in my brain as I can manage:

I had a blood draw yesterday (routine health screening, scheduled well before the world went to hell, the person came to my place rather than me going to a clinic or hospital and wore a mask to limit exposure) and it went fine but she couldn’t get a vein to plump up in my left arm so she had to use my right one and now it hurts and there’s a huge bruise and the fact that it’s my dominant arm means I can’t stop using it to ice it and make it better, which wouldn’t be a big problem except my piece of shit over-anxious brain can’t stop focusing on pain in the right arm as the symptom of a stroke or heart attack (particularly in women) and connecting that to how strokes and clots have been showing up in otherwise healthy young people as a comorbid symptom of COVID even though I have no reason to think I have COVID, not to mention that’s a thing to be concerned about in its own right, and it’s linking that straight back to the paranoia I thought I’d kicked years ago about clots and aneurysms and other silent medical issues.

(Also I really, really fucking hate blood draws in general so I was a crying mess during it and that only makes me feel like more of a baby about the whole thing.)

I literally had a sobbing panic attack on the couch for almost two hours straight this morning, and then another shorter one partway through the afternoon, and I can’t make it stop. My anxiety in general and medical anxiety in particular hasn’t been this bad since I had my breakdown in college. And it’s not entirely unfounded, but there’s nothing I can do about it, there’s no tangible way to soothe it, so all I can do is spiral.

I might call my PCP and ask if he’d consider prescribing Xanax or something, just to help get me through the extra stress brought on by The State Of The World, because clearly that’s been enough to push me from “a little stressed but managing and coping” to “two seconds from a breakdown at all times”. But that might require me going in for an appointment, and I really don’t want to do that right now, even though our governor in his infinite wisdom has started moving us to Phase 1 of reopening.

To be perfectly clear, I am not looking for medical advice, and I am perfectly aware of exactly how goddamn ridiculous this all sounds; I’m just venting into the void. I just want it to stop. Just make my brain shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes and let me live my life without having to fight with my own goddamn mental processes.

[how-to-survive-a-factory-tour]

How To Survive A Factory Tour - Chapter 11

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fanfiction

PREVIOUS

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I wipe as much ice cream and icing from my hoodie as I can as we head to the beach. By the time we arrive, I haven’t made much difference. Hopefully Mom’ll have some free time to clean it when I get home…

Wonka’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He’s stood just down the beach, gesturing and calling for us to all come closer. We all head down to meet him, Patton practically running thanks to his sugar high. Where Wonka’s stood is raised up, and when we arrive, we find ourselves overlooking the ocean on the edge of a cliff. “You all came just in time! They should be coming around here any moment…”

“Who?” Roman asks.

“You’ll see.”

We all watch the lemonade, waiting for whatever he’s talking about. While we wait, I can’t help but notice, out of the corner of my eye, Logan slip his hand into Patton’s. The other turns to Logan, smiling at the gesture. I nudge Roman’s side, drawing his attention to the two of them. He smirks, before whispering to me.

“Took their time.”

“Took their time? They met yesterday, Roman. If anything, they’re rushing into it. I’d at least want to know the guy for a bit longer.”

“I guess I understand… I mean, as they say in Frozen, ‘You can’t marry a man you just met’. I guess the same could apply to dating… But still. They’re just holding hands, Virge. Wouldn’t exactly say that’s a high level relationship. Heck, it’s not even a relationship! I’d be willing to bet all my theatre awards that is just Logan’s confession, and they aren’t even a proper thing yet.”

“What? Who would ever confess by simply holding the other person’s hand? Isn’t that kinda weird?”

“Apparently Logan, and it’s worked for him.”

Which I can’t deny. Patton’s looking at Logan with hearts in his eyes, and Logan has obviously noticed, blushing harshly as he awkwardly avoids eye contact. They’re so gay, they’re practically oozing rainbows. It’s sickening how cute they are. The pastel colours of the desserts in the room are not helping the atmosphere. I feel like I need to just curl up in a dark corner, scroll through Tumblr and listen to MCR for an hour just to recover to my dark and edgy self.

 SPLASH!

My head snaps back to look at the ocean. There are two dark shadows darting around in the lemonade. I’m about to ask Wonka what they are, when one jumps out of the water.

“Is that an orca?!” Roman gasps.

“Yup!” Wonka smiles. “Two of our resident killer whales. They’re free to swim between here and their enclosures. We pride ourselves on taking good care of them.”

“Why on earth do you have orcas in the factory?” Logan inquires, a confused eyebrow raised.

“Well, you see, these are no ordinary whales. They are in fact made of marshmallow and liquorice. Well, except their teeth, those are made from very strong rock candy. If their teeth had been made out of marshmallow, they wouldn’t be able to properly chew their food after all.”

“That’s so cool!” Patton steps forward, a little closer to the edge, his hand slipping from Logan’s as he goes to get a closer look.

Logan doesn’t even notice Patton’s hand leaving his, looking too shocked. “Hold on… you created sentient life… out of sweets… and you haven’t told anyone?! This… This is revolutionary! Creating life… You’ve done something man has only ever dreamed of doing. Something the whole world has wondered about since Mary Shelley first published the first editions of Frankenstein! I… How? How did you do it?”

“Well, it was quite simply actually, all I had to do was-”

CRACK!

He’s interrupted by a loud noise. There’s a moment of confusion, all of us trying to figure out where it came from. But then there’s two more sounds: another crack, and a scream. The edge of the cliff where Patton had been stood has disappeared, and he goes soon after, plummeting down and falling from our view.

“PATTON!” Logan runs up to the edge, looking over, terror plastered on his face. The rest of us quickly join him, just in time to see Patton hit the lemonade with a loud splash.

“And here I was thinking there weren’t going to be any incidents…” I hear Wonka mutter, voice a mix worry and disappointment.

Patton’s head breaks back to the surface, and he takes a deep breath as he treads water. He giggles a little. "Whoopsie..."

“Patton, are you okay?!” Logan calls down.

“Yeah, I’m good! I landed feet first and kept my legs straight, so I didn’t belly flop and get hurt or anything. I’ll just swim over to the sandy part of the beach and get out there. Not sure I’ll be able to climb up the cliff.”

Logan lets out a sigh of relief, and we walk along, following Patton as he swims around the island. However, my eye catches a dark shadow in the lemonade. I pause for a moment, watching it swim around playfully. But then it slows down, near stopping. It pauses, before speeding up again, turning around.

It’s darting right towards Patton.

“PAT, LOOK OUT!”

Patton pauses, looking up at me. I don’t even have time to yell at him to run - or I guess swim - away, before the shadow reaches him, and he suddenly disappears under the surface.

“PATTON!” Logan cries again.

“One of the whales got him!” Roman realises. It’s confirmed when Patton’s pulled back up to the surface, his ankle in the teeth of one of the orcas. It keeps dragging him up and down in the lemonade, almost like it’s playing with him. Patton’s its toy. The constant dragging only gives Patton small windows of time to breathe, and he gasps whenever he gets the chance.

Every time he’s brought up, he starts to call out to us for help. When we catch sight of his ankle, I notice it’s bloody from the whale’s rock candy teeth being dug into it, and as he struggles to escape, the wounds get bigger and deeper, more blood seeping out and dyeing the lemonade around him orange as the yellow and red mix. 

The longer it goes on, the more Patton’s voice wavers as he yells, sobs breaking through. If I wasn’t so much of an anxious mess, I’d want to dive in and help him. Thank god I am, though, because I’d undoubtedly be ripped into shreds.

Too bad Roman isn’t, and I quickly catch his arm the second I see him inch forward. “Don’t you fucking dare, you’re not dying on me.”

My voice seems to snap Logan back to the present, and turns to Wonka. “Do something! You have to help him!”

“Give me a moment, I need to think…”

“I don’t think Patton has a moment,” I hiss, getting frustrated at his lack of action. Like, seriously?! Is he seeing what we are seeing?! Patton is screeching, desperate for help, Wonka can’t just stand around!

“Yeah, I’ve seen the documentary Blackfish, and this is a lot like the incidents that have happened at SeaWorld,” Roman adds. “Incidents that usually led to staff dying, or at least getting very seriously injured!”

Logan’s trembling at this point. “I never even got to tell him how I feel… All I did was hold his hand! That’s, like, the pussiest thing I could have done! Is pussiest a word? I don’t even usually use that kind of language! Oh god, I think I’m having a breakdown...”

I take his hand and put it on my chest, talking him through breathing exercises I use during my own panic attacks. He seems to start to calm down, as do I as I count with him. Ethan, however, just rolls his eyes. “Look, you can’t all rush Mr Wonka into doing something. If he acts without thinking, the situation could get even worse.”

“If Patton isn’t saved soon, the situation could get worse!” I growl before resuming the counting.

Before Ethan can retort, Wonka’s head snaps up. “I got it! The Oompa Loompas have a bell they ring signalling the whales’ feeding time. If I get them to ring it, the whales should let go of Patton and head back into their enclosure, believing it’s feeding time. We’ll then close the door between there and this room so Patton won’t be grabbed again as he swims back to the shore. Bingo! He’ll be safe and sound, and we can continue.”

“Do it!” Logan, Roman and myself all command in synchronisation. Wonka reaches into his pocket, pulling out a walkie-talkie, and repeats the orders into it.

A couple seconds go by after, before there’s a loud ringing. The orcas pause where they are for a moment, Patton taking the chance to finally start to get his breath back, before the whales quickly swim off through a hatch in the wall. The hatch closes behind them, cutting them off from coming back in.

The problem is, they pulled Patton with them instead of letting go,

“Oh god, he’s dead…” Logan mumbles, eyes not leaving the hatch.

“No he’s not, he’ll be okay,” I reassure, even if I’m not too sure myself.

Wonka turns back to his walkie-talkie. “The boy was pulled in with them unfortunately. You think you can save him?” There’s a pause before a high-pitched voice speaks back through.

“Can do! We’ll lure the orcas away with food, we’ll get him out the lemonade, patch up his wounds, and he’ll be A-Okay!"

“Excellent!” Wonka turns back to us. “See? He’ll be perfectly fine!”

“Told you we just needed to wait,” Ethan smiles.

“You’re sure?” Logan asks, still sounding very uncertain.

“Positive. The Oompa Loompas are very dedicated to their work, they won’t stop until he’s safe.”

“Okay…” Logan takes a deep breath. “Um, sorry for panicking so much… I, um, I usually can keep my cool during tense situations…”

“Don’t worry about it, Microsoft Nerd,” Roman replies. A small smile tugs at my lips at the nickname, even if it is pretty harsh to call him names given the situation. “People do weird things when in love. Especially when their loved one is on the brink of death… Not that Patton is!”

I roll my eyes. “Good save…”

“Oh, shut up, Brad Pitiful!”

"What's that noise?" Ethan suddenly asks. That's when I notice it: a drum beat. It starts getting louder and louder, and other instruments come in. A float appears gliding across the ocean, a band of Oompa Loompas on it, some with instruments, others without. As the instrumental builds to a crescendo, they burst into song.

"Oompa Loompa doop-a-dee-doo  I've got a perfect puzzle for you  Oompa Loompa doop-a-da-dee  If you are wise, you'll listen to me!"

We all turn to look at Wonka, confused as to what is going on. He explains, "They're always making up songs and singing. Very creative they are, and song is their favourite means of communication."

"What do you get when emotions run high? And you trust everyone who you ever come by? Put others first, never care for yourself? Bottle up all your bad feelings? I don't like the look of it."

Whoa, they are really digging deep to insult Patton and bring up his flaws... They could not be more insensitive. I'm glad he isn't here to hear it.

"Oompa Loompa doop-a-dee-da  If you aren't naïve, you will go far  You will live in happiness too  Like the Oompa Loompa doop-a-dee-doo!"

As the song closes and the Oompa Loompas float away, Wonka applauds. Roman does the same, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"What? Improvising an entire song on the spot is the most difficult thing I can ever imagining have to do! They deserve to be praised for it, no matter how... mean spirited it was."

“I assume we’re going to move on with the tour?” Ethan asks Wonka. “Or are we going to wait for Patton to be rescued and then carry on with him?”

“I think it’s best we continue on,” Wonka responds. “Once he’s rescued, Patton will likely be spending the rest of the tour in the hospital wing of the factory. His leg wasn’t in the best condition, but I’m sure the Oompa Loompas will be able to fix that right up. We have trained doctors on the staff, of course. Now, come along you four! Logan, you wanted to see the Inventing Room, correct? We’ll head there next!”

He skips off, leading us all the way back to the south beach, where the row boat that we came in rests. We walk behind Wonka, Roman attempting to raise the mood, but my anxiety is playing up now, and Logan is in a sort of catatonic state, preventing us from really playing along with the happy mood he’s trying to set.

We reach the boat, and retake our seats. Wonka starts to row us back across the lemonade ocean. I can’t help but look over the edge of the boat. I keep expecting to see the red of Patton’s blood from his wound dispersing out amongst the lemonade, and blending with it.

Safe to say Wonka won’t be able to sell any of this now.

As we drift back to the door of the room, I see Logan’s eyes never waver from the empty seat beside him.

It seems Patton’s the Augustus of our tour. I pray the rest of us don’t become the Violet, Veruca and Mike.

----------

NEXT

Patton is no longer available for asks

Taglist: @clone-number-1, @pumpkinminette, @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing, @jessicakennedy957, @why-should-i-tell-youu2

[thelunarbond]

OC questions time with Phoenix

A few days ago I reblogged this post with some questions to help with characterisation, and I wanted to write it out here with Phoenix as he’s my main oc! Here we go...

1) On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Phoenix hates showering, especially when his anxiety is high. He still does it as often as possible, and he uses moisturiser and proper face wash, and that’s about it. He still barely grows facial hair despite the fact that he’s 19 years old. The rest of the Lunar Bond get jealous of him because he rarely gets acne or rough skin and he doesn’t even try

2) What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Phoenix is the least fussy eater ever and will eat almost anything. However, his preference is crunchy foods and/or spicy food. He doesn’t really have a preference with calories. He’s not very good at self care, so Phoenix’s diet normally consists of cereal and cup noodles for virtually every meal, as he never remembers to feed himself or remembers to buy food in the first place. (He might occasionally sneak out of bed to eat some shredded cheese at 5am too)

3) What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

Anything vaguely unsatisfying. Things such as when people cut wrapping paper and it rips, or when people draw with a ruler and it goes loose so the line isn’t straight, things like that. (Side note: Phoenix definitely watches satisfying compilations or soap cutting videos on YouTube)

4) What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

Fear, as he never carries cash or change on him (when he has money at all). He puts all his money on his bank card, and he knows he can’t transfer it to the homeless person. He gets scared that it would lead to the homeless person being angry or upset with him. And he feels bad that he could have done something to help someone

5) Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

Phoenix doesn’t get lost very easily as he never goes to places he hasn’t been to before. However, when he moved from the countryside to Westerlyn City he got lost all the time, and his response is a lot of fear (and probably a panic attack). When he would get lost he’d rely on his phone for directions and hope he wasn’t going to be lost forever

6) What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

Answered here!

7) Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on?

Phoenix has been taking care of his little brother for years up until recently. He’s incredibly good at caring for other people or pets and making sure they are well, but he isn’t very good at looking after himself (probably because he’s too distracted while thinking about the other person/animal etc). He also has multiple houseplants in his home that are thriving

8) If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically.

Academically, Phoenix would do amazingly well. He has the highest IQ out of anyone in the Lunar Bond; he picks up information very quickly and is good at retaining it. His emotional well-being in that situation is a whole other story. Phoenix doesn’t believe he’s very good at anything. And he doesn’t think he’s particularly clever, no matter how many high test scores he gets. He would spend all night drinking energy drinks and studying, and freaking out that he’s going to fail and everyone’s going to be disappointed in him. He’d probably also be a big puddle of anxiety on the day of the test as well

9) What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Nothing. Phoenix is terrified of upsetting or angering people. No matter how many cruel or petty pranks are pulled on him, he doesn’t lash out as he’s scared of having an argument. If it’s constant, he might eventually yell at the person in question that what they’re doing is unfair, but it takes a lot to reach that point

10) On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

Very very badly. He would have a total mental breakdown. He’d spend the whole time thinking he was going to die

11) What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

Pompeii by Bastille. Phoenix loves songs that he can sing along loudly to and are still calming in nature. He doesn’t really like “thumping” songs, such as songs with heavy bass or techno songs, as he thinks they’re too noisy. But he’d 100% sing along with a song like Pompeii in the shower at least (probably not in public though)

12) What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbours?

He doesn’t really do anything that would piss them off as he’s scared of being confronted, but they would be confused by the fact that he leaves and goes back into his house constantly before he goes out to buy groceries. He’ll open the door, take about 2 steps outside and then go back in and stay there for another 10 minutes, still wearing his coat. He’ll leave the house again and walk to the end of the street and walk back, shut the door and not come out for 20 minutes, and it continues like that. To Phoenix, it’s his normal routine as he’s not sure if he’s too anxious to go into a store and buy groceries. In the end, after leaving and going back into his house about 5 or 6 times he’ll order his groceries online, and leave his neighbours very confused

13) Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

Only if it was life or death. If going naked in public would save his life or someone close to him he’d do it. But nothing else would make him do something like that

14) What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for?

This question is kinda confusing and I honestly don’t know how to answer it, sorry😅

15) How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

He zones out all the time. Multiple times a day he’ll start daydreaming, and something he does on autopilot is make cups of tea. The amount of times he’s nearly died as a result of his daydreaming is unreal. He still doesn’t stop his daydreaming while he’s in public, no matter how many times this has happened. His autopilot tea making has resulted in multiple occasions of him finding random cups of tea of different flavours around his house that he’s made, taken one sip out of, and left to go cold somewhere

16) How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

Answered here!

17) How does your OC sabotage themselves? 

A better question for Phoenix would be how he doesn’t sabotage himself. He’s the worst at self care, he’s never told someone he’s had a crush on that he loves them, trouble constantly seems to seek him out... someone help him

18) What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it?

Phoenix doesn’t really own embarrassing clothes but the trashiest thing he owns is an ancient oversized shirt that he’s had for many years; he lounges around the house in it (and sometimes wears it to the store when he occasionally braves the store). It’s covered in holes, stains and rips, the print is completely cracked and peeling and it’s about 4 sizes too big. And the last time Phoenix wore it was yesterday, because he refuses to throw it away (he claims he’s had it too long to throw it away) 

19) How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

How hydrating is tea? Because he hasn’t had a glass of water for about 6 hours but he’s had 4 cups of tea and he’s making himself another one

20) What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odour? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Phoenix’s last shower was yesterday, so the smell of his body wash has faded a little. It’s scented like lemon and tea tree, and he still smells like it a little bit. Perfumes or aftershaves irritate his skin so he doesn’t wear them. His fingers smell like the pages of the second hand adventure books he’s been reading all day. The smell of the scented candles he has also lingers on him a little, and they’re scented like black cherry

[brerediddy]

more than survive - chapter 5

Jeremy attempted to get through the rest of the weekend without a mental breakdown. He was pretty proud of himself, overall, because he’d managed to only have five panic attacks. It wasn’t ideal, but it was okay due to the fact that his world was crashing down around him. He had finally encountered a villain who was smarter and stronger than his worst dreams. Not only could he not feasibly defeat him in a single battle but now he had to work with him, for god’s sake. He had no choice: not when Michael was on the line. Jeremy had researched everything he could on the SQUIP but couldn’t find anything other than a news article about his destruction in the city. He sighed and shoved the mouse aside. He couldn’t keep thinking about this. He’d spent all of Saturday worrying and pacing.

Jeremy opened up Skype just out of curiosity. As the application opened, he stared at the green “online ” symbol next to Michael’s name. He wondered if this is how Gatsby felt. He desperately wanted to see him, to talk to him, to ensure that he was okay. Just as he was about to make his move, his monitor lit up as a ringtone began to play.

Incoming Call From: Michael

The other boy worried on his lower lip and accepted the call, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He hoped he looked at least semi-okay.

“Hey,” Michael greeted, a relaxed smile on his face. “I was bored and I saw you were online.”

Jeremy fought back a grin and immediately felt more at ease. “What's up?”

The boy shrugged. “Hanging out. How’s your weekend been?”

“It’s okay,” he lied. He didn't want Michael to press more because then he would actually break down. To elaborate, Jeremy added, “I mean, it's been pretty lazy. I feel unproductive.”

“Hey, that's alright. Being lazy is good sometimes,” Michael intoned. He was playing with something out of view of the camera but Jeremy had a suspicion that it was his Rubik's Cube. He always needed to have something in his hands, moving and twisting. “But I know what you mean. Whenever I’m too lazy, I get frustrated. Usually, though, I just play a level or two of Donkey Kong and I feel better.”

Jeremy nodded in agreement. He scratched at the back of his neck, unsure of what else to say. A weight was heavy on his chest but he couldn't tell Michael. Not like this. And he couldn't exactly say, ’Hey, you know that new SQUIP guy? Well, he knows your name because, by the way, I’m Spider-Man���and he threatened to hurt you if I don't follow his orders. See you at school!’ All he could do for the time being was wait for the SQUIP to contact him. He would complete the task and keep his best friend safe. And said best friend wouldn't have to know. Easy, right? Then why did he feel so nauseous?

“Jeremy? Hello?” Michael’s voice pierced his anxious resolve.

“Sorry. Um, bad connection, I think,” he spoke. “Were you saying something?”

“I asked when you started working out.”

Jeremy furrowed his brows in confusion. “I haven't? Michael, you know that I would never willingly exercise.”

“Where'd those arms come from, then?” Michael asked, staring unashamedly at Jeremy’s body. “And your chest, man.”

“U-Um,” he stammered. He had picked up a lot of strength with his web-slinging and cardio from his various battles, but he didn't think it was anything noticeable. “Actually, come to think of it, I have worked out with Rich a few times. He invited me and I didn't want to be rude.” Jeremy couldn't look Michael in the eye. Although the attention was a bit unexpected, he couldn't help but enjoy that Michael had noticed.

“Ah,” he nodded in response. “I got you. But, hey, you're kind of...attractive, I guess ? Is that weird to say?”

Jeremy swallowed heavily. “No, it's not weird. Thanks for thinking I look decent.”

“Better than decent,” Michael hummed. After a split-second, he seemed panicked and stopped messing around with his Rubik's Cube for the first time during the conversation. “N-Not that you didn't look fine— good, before, either.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um. Yeah. I’m going to stop talking now.”

Jeremy felt heat rise to his cheeks and he shrugged. “Thanks,” he said. His mind vaguely flashed back to when Michael had called Spider-Man hot. Maybe the suit wasn’t the only factor. Maybe Jeremy had a shot? “Anyway. What have you been up to this weekend?”

The other boy shrugged as well, mirroring Jeremy and going back to his Rubik’s cube with impressive focus. “I’ve just been laying around, really. Where were you yesterday? You, like, hardly texted me.”

He considered the fact that he’d spent the previous day as a literal ball of anxiety and wondered how much he should tell Michael. He had already decided not to let him in on the threat because, honestly, did Michael really need that stress in his life right now? Jeremy didn’t think so. Although he couldn’t explain the cause of his panic, Michael always helped to calm him down and Jeremy needed to feel calm. He shook his head and finally responded, “I was pretty anxious. It just wasn’t a great day.”

Michael nodded in understanding and lifted his eyes to search Jeremy’s face. He said, “What were you anxious about?”

“Just, like, life in general. I think,” Jeremy lied. Although he supposed that it wasn’t exactly a lie.

The other boy hummed and Jeremy heard a noise which must have been Michael setting the cube down on his desk. “Have you considered talking to anyone about it?”

“I talk to you,” he responded steadily. He knew that it wasn’t what the other boy meant, but that didn’t stop him from meeting his best friend’s brown eyes a bit defiantly.

“Jeremy,” Michael spoke, slightly drawing out the vowels. “You know that I love to listen. I do. I’ll listen to you speak forever...but I’m also not a therapist. I can’t help you if your anxiety is getting bad again.”

“You help me more than you think you do,” he responded.

Michael tried to ignore the small swell in his chest as he set his jaw. “I’m not telling you that you have to go. I’m just saying that it’s an option you have, if it keeps bothering you.”

“Thanks, Michael,” Jeremy acknowledged offhandedly, hoping to drop the subject. He let out a long breath and said with a bit of a kinder tone, “I’ll let you know if it gets bad enough for that. I think it’s just temporary. There’s just...a lot in my life, right now. That��s all.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Jeremy rubbed at his temples. He let out a breath before saying, “Hey, whatever happened with that vinyl you were trying to get ahold of?”

Michael knew that the other boy was changing the point of conversation; he wasn’t stupid. But if Jeremy didn’t want to talk about his anxiety, then he didn’t have to. Michael wouldn’t force him. He just didn’t want his best friend to reach his breaking point like he had a few years prior. He couldn’t see Jeremy in that state again—jumpy and shaking and staying in bed for days at a time. He couldn’t watch him go through that. Regardless, the boy wasn’t comfortable talking about whatever was troubling him. Michael had to respect that. He reached for his Rubik’s cube again and began to spin it aimlessly. “I couldn’t get in contact with the seller. I feel like I probably lost the bid.”

Jeremy placed his elbow on his desktop and rested his head upon the palm on his upturned hand. “That’s too bad. Except now I have something to get you for your birthday.”

Michael smiled softly and responded, “Well now that you’ve told me, it won’t be a surprise.”

“You and I both know that you’re going to forget about this conversation long before July.”

“Touché.” Michael ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands that had fallen into his eyes back to their rightful place.

Jeremy couldn’t help but watch the movement and admire how effortlessly cute his best friend was. Once he realized that he must have been gazing for far too long for it to be considered normal, he swallowed his feelings quickly. That was a problem for Future Jeremy.

-

The next morning, Jeremy thought that he had awoke to his usual alarm and slowly rolled over to turn off the harsh ringing. When he did, he could see that he was actually receiving a phone call and it was only...five o’clock in the morning? What the fuck? He didn't have to be up for school for another two hours and the number calling him was unrecognizable. As soon as his sleepy brain caught up, his stomach dropped. It had to be the SQUIP. He swallowed nervously, propping himself up on his elbow. Taking a deep breath, the boy answered the phone.

“Jeremy, good morning,” the familiar tone registered. He still sounded cocky and Jeremy still wanted to punch him.

“What do you want?” He tried to keep the anxiety from his voice, but he figured that his facade was not very convincing.

“Meet me at the eleventh street lot,” the SQUIP requested cooly.

“But th-that’s closed down. And locked up.” Jeremy hated his stutter. It came out at the most inconvenient times. He ran a hand through his hair and spoke, “I have school. I’m seventeen.”

“You can go to school in the afternoon. I’ll only need you for a few hours.” The SQUIP hummed an odd distortion of the Jeopardy theme. “So what do you say? Eleventh street lot in half an hour. Oh, and don’t bother with the costume. It’s just a waste of time.”

“Do I have a choice?” Jeremy sat up in bed, blinking a few times to make sense of his surroundings in the dark.

“No. Well, yes, technically. But we all know what the consequences are if you make the wrong one, don't we?” And with that, the phone line went dead.

Jeremy threw his phone down a bit harshly onto his pillow. He hated this. He hated everything about this. He supposed the only good thing about the situation was that, in spending time with his enemy, he was bound to learn more. Maybe he could figure out a way to defeat him. The boy groaned as he stood up and then, on second thought, turned back to grab his phone. He needed to keep Michael informed so that his best friend would stop looking at him with worry and instead go back to looking at him with fondness.

He typed a quick text saying that he wasn't feeling well and he wouldn't need a ride to school. He added that if he felt better in the afternoon, he would walk and meet him for lunch. As he set down his phone, he took a deep breath to steel himself and began to get ready for the (long) day ahead.

Jeremy arrived at the location exactly twenty-seven minutes later. It was still dark but the beginning of dawn could be made out along the horizon. He tried to hide a small shiver at the cool breeze of the morning air. The SQUIP was already there, leaning against the padlocked gate and staring at his hands. He looked the same as he had during their last encounter, except that he now wore a blue scarf that swayed in the slight wind.  

“Punctual,” he drawled, not looking up from his nails. Jeremy noted that they were painted black. The SQUIP spoke, “I like that. It’s a good quality to have.”

“What are we doing here?” The teenager crossed his arms over his chest defensively, burying his hands in the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “It’s locked,like I said.”

“Watch and learn, kid,” the man said as he finally met Jeremy’s eyes. As expected, his eyes were brightly glowing blue. He held out a hand to hover over the lock and seemed to focus his energy, biting his lip ever-so-slightly. A small source of gray light appeared and suddenly, the lock fell onto the ground; broken.

“H-How’d you do that?”

The SQUIP gave a grin that looked more like a sneer and said, “Like I said, you’d be amazed at what you could do if you just put your mind to it.”

“You sound like an annoying infomercial.” Jeremy felt his phone vibrate in his pocket but he ignored it. He didn’t want to move his eyes away from the person in front of him.

“Aren’t you going to get that? It could be Michael,” he taunted.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“How romantic,” the SQUIP remarked flatly. He pushed through the gate and into the lot. Greenery pushed through cracks in the cement and a half-deconstructed brick wall split the space into two.

“Why did you choose this? Isn’t it, y’know, pretty public?”

“No one comes here. No one even comes down this street. I’ve been monitoring it for a while. It’s wide open but actually private enough to work.”

“Speaking of work…” Jeremy began, but trailed off. He didn’t know what he wanted to ask. He didn’t know where to begin or what was expected of him.

“Ah, yes. I’m glad you asked,” the SQUIP nodded. “For today, I just want to observe. I’ll ask you to do things that will showcase your powers and you’ll obey. Got it?”

Jeremy could feel his heart in his throat but he agreed anyway. He had no choice, right? He couldn’t piss this guy off, it was way too risky. Just think of Michael. He had to do it - for him.

“Shoot a web at that wall and swing up to the top.” Jeremy did as he was asked and he was met with a sound of approval from the man. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

-

When Jeremy arrived at school that afternoon, he felt sore and tired and disgusted with himself. He'd voluntarily shown his arch-enemy the full range of his powers. That was probably a bad call on his part. He pulled off his sweatshirt and shoved it into his locker, slamming the door shut when he was done. Jeremy stared at the metal hinges for a moment, feeling like he was missing something. He let out a long groan when he realized that he’d forgotten a pencil and pulled it back open. His muscles ached from exerting his powers for such an extended period of time. He had also been running on a seriously small amount of sleep, which he figured wasn't a good combination. Caught up in his own thoughts, the boy didn't notice Michael’s presence next to him until his best friend cleared his throat.

“Michael!” Jeremy started, trying to keep himself from jumping in shock. “When did you get here?”

“Uh, a few minutes ago. I saw you going to your locker so I followed. You okay?”

“Me? I'm fine. Tired. But fine.” Jeremy nodded once to himself and then again to Michael. “What about you? How was class?” He rooted through his textbooks to find his pencil and ignored the ache in his bicep.

“Fine. Jake got our entire English class out of a pop quiz today,” he responded. He played with the strings of his hoodie for a second, not entirely looking at the other boy. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, much better. I just needed to sleep a little bit, that’s all.” Jeremy emerged from his locker victoriously, closing the metal door and holding his pencil with pride. “Found it.”

Michael gave him a smile and said, “Congratulations, Sherlock. Hey, by the way, did you get my text earlier?”

“Shit, sorry. No. I haven’t checked my phone.” The boy reached into his pocket and fished out the cell phone. He turned it on and saw the message:

5:31 AM        From: michael mell straight from hell    

hope u feel better soon bc i got a new game and we should give it a shot after school

Jeremy looked up from his phone excitedly. “What’s the game? We should totally play. Is it zombies? Or, uh, robots? Those are your forté but maybe it’s like, aliens or something. That would be cool,” he rambled. Finally, he felt the slightest bit back to normal. BSM (Before Spider-Man) normal. Here he was, in the middle of the school corridor, eagerly discussing video games with his best friend. Nothing else mattered except the thought of spending the evening drinking slushies, eating cheese puffs, and playing a game.

“Aliens, actually. Something different!” Michael exclaimed. “It’s supposed to be like Space Invaders but modernized, I guess. It seems super cool.”

“Do you want to grab snacks after school and then head to your place?”

“Absolutely.” Michael slung an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders casually, turning down the hallway to head to their next class together.

[aquarianlights]

I'm preaching to the choir here, but I'm gonna say it anyways.

Pants sizes. Jesus fucking christ.

I'm a transman, but I have not started HRT yet as my doctor doesn't think it is medically and psychologically safe for me (yet). That doesn't mean I don't wear men's clothing. However...the one thing I do wear a mixture of is female and male pants.

To get you guys in perspective, in guys pants. I'm a 28/30. And that's only because I can never find anything lower than 28. 28 is about maybe 2ish sizes too big for me. And 30 is too long. So really I'd be more of a 26/28. . .but that really doesn't happen. Hence why I usually shop in the little boys section. 28 is even almost impossible to find.

Yesterday I was in the mall doing some much needed pants shopping (I've had two pairs for about 2 years so I was finally able to get new ones). I, ofc, tried on an assortment of men's and women's pants.

Guess fucking what?

All the stores I go to are average. Not large, not small. I'm above average in size, probably bigger than most actually, but not enough to shop in the plus size section. But my number in boys jeans fit me that way, as stated above. Which is so nice because THEY’RE ALL THE FUCKING SAME... then I get to women's pants.......

One store, I'm a size 6. Another store, I'm a size 14. I can't even tell you all the number differences between that. And it just frustrates the hell out of me (and I'm sure everyone else). As someone who has struggled with anorexia since early childhood, fitting into a size 14 and being so comfortable in them that I just had to get them almost made me have a breakdown. I'm glad I got them coz they're comfortable af but. I've never been in the double digits until I started on antipsychotics. And even then, the highest I ever went was a size 10.

And I just don't understand..... I have a woman's hourglass figure. I have hips. Ridiculous hips. I hate them with a passion because it means I can never button the very last button on men's fitted shirts (like dress shirts) because they're made for people without hips. Obvs, HRT is gonna help with that but it could very well be a while with my current medical situation. I still have two weeks to wait on my arthritis and general rheumatoid blood work and I'm gonna have to get another draw for lupus very soon. And financially? Hrt is not a reality right now.

So what even.

And I'm trying to get a vest to go over a dress suit for suave business casual and what happens? All the fucking men's vests are ridiculously huge in the shoulder area and super wide in the chest area. Everything fits perfectly......except I'd have to get a seamstress to cinch the shoulders by maybe 3 inches and tighten the chest area by a few inches, too. I'm thoroughly frustrated and honestly a little distraught at sizing issues.

I fit an XL shirt in the little boys section, sometimes just an L. I go in to find fitted shirts and a vest in the men's section and I end up in a SM size. I have rarely been able to fit anything above an XSM in men's clothing. Normally I'm an XXSM in men's but that's hard to find. And women's shirts? I'm a medium (as long as I'm in the petite juniors section). Sometimes I have to up it to L, but there are some occasions where a SM is perfect (AGAIN, WHAT THE FUCK).

I don't understand why we can't have universal MEASURED sizes.....like on men's jeans. It makes so much sense and makes everything so much easier. Why the actual fuck do we bother with all this other bullshit? ESPECIALLY in women's clothing. I feel so badly for girls, especially those suffering from EDs, who have to shop and go through what I do every time I shop for clothing. It's a little easier for me coz I shop mostly in the men’s department...but I remember when I was forced to be closeted and had to buy in the women's section and every goddamn shopping trip ended with me in a panic attack by the time I got to the car.

And I just wanted to put it out there.......you guys and gals and whomever inbetween..... your size does not define you. I have horrible anorexia that I am trying so hard to overcome and this sizing bullshit, especially in women's clothing, has fucked me up even worse than when I was a child. When I was in elementary school, I used to eat paper instead of food because I thought you had to eat "something" to exist but I thought eating food would make me fat since my parents were always poking at my tummy and reminding me over and over again that "you can't have that. You'll get fat." or "Are you really going to eat that? You just ate a whole bowl of macaroni yesterday. Why don't you wait until tomorrow." And that's not even including any societal pressures we ALL face.

I'm about 130lbs right now at 5'2". To put that in perspective for sizing.

To everyone who struggles with this..... I feel you. I'm there with you. I don't think I will ever stop being there. You are not alone. Sizing in America is fucked. Idk about other countries, but America is fucked in general so ofc sizing is FUCKED. But you know what?

You are fucking beautiful no matter what you wear. You are a goddess. A god. Whichever you're feeling. Or something inbetween. You are beautiful, you are loved, you are incredible and strong and courageous and you have the power to fucking destroy this pain that eats away at you telling you not to have that coffee from Starbucks this morning because of the calories and sugar content and whatever else.

Finding out I most likely have lupus or have some sort of major liver damage has made me think "You know what? Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Fuck America. Fuck sizing. Fuck trying to stave off all the sodium and calories and fat content and everything else on that label. Fuck reading every content label and scanning it with apps that promote ana and mia. Fuck that." This is coming from a boy who used to have his own pro-ana blog, btw. 

No. Don't fucking go there. Don't let this world and its sizing destroy you. Don't fucking let it. Don't. I'm crying as I'm typing this because I'm saying this as much to myself as I am to everyone else who needs to hear it.

You CAN go out of your house in the morning. You're not “too fat” to leave your apartment. You're not “too fat” to stay locked in your room all day because you feel you're too big to be seen in public. When I don't leave the house, that's the exact reason why. I cannot even TELL YOU how many opportunities in my life I have let slip by me because of that train of thought. "You're too fat and ugly to leave the house today. You need to lock yourself in your room and never be seen again." Don't. Fucking don't. Get out there. Wear what you want. Wear what makes you happy....what makes you comfortable... idc what size you are. Fat is not a bad word. It's not. And the media and society wants you to see it as such and internalize that and kill yourself over it.

Don't. Let. It. Win. Keep fucking fighting.

If you're not comfortable with your body, by all means, take steps to change it if it is medically and chemically possible. But don't risk your life over a number. Or many numbers. Fuck the scale. Fuck sizes. Fuck your self hatred because you're beautiful and I know you may not see that... but you are. Everyone is beautiful in so many different ways.

The quote I like to reference the most is something like: “Just because you don't find yourself attractive doesn't mean other people don't. You just may not be your own type.”

Those people staring at you? They’re admiring something on you. Most people don’t have the courage to just walk up to someone and tell them they’re staring at them because of this or that. Luckily, I don’t have anxiety issues so I can just go right up to people and be like “Yo, I’m so sorry if you saw me staring at you, but your hair is legit just mesmerizing. Like. I’m really sorry I was staring. It’s just so gorgeous. What dye did you use?” Most people can’t do that and I know. I’ve never dealt with anxiety myself, but I do deal with panic attacks and I cannot function at all if I’m having an internal or external panic attack (my attacks are purely physical, hence Panic Disorder and not any sort of anxiety spectrum). So I mean, I get it to an extent. But just know... most people don’t do what I do. They silently stare at you and try not to catch your eye because they’re ADMIRING SOMETHING ABOUT YOU. Ngl, not 100% of the time. . .but I’d say a good 98% of the time, that’s the case.

So you go out there. . .you be you. . .and you be fierce. Because you’re awesome, you’re gorgeous, and I believe in you. So many others do, too.

((I needed to write this for myself, but I guess I wanted to make it public for anyone else struggling. So. . .here. Coz I mean it.))

[demondarakna]

THE TOTALLY INACCURATE GUIDE TO DEPRESSION #2 Emotional shutdown or The mystery of a frikin' PEN

Yesterday I went through an episode of depression. It’s not over yet, I still get confused, I still zone out, and my body still shuts down sometimes when I start to feel.

Many people ask WHAT it looks like. What happens. Well, I can tell you that different people experience it differently. I experience it differently and I am mostly one person. Also, I personally do not like to talk about the actual episodes since it doesn’t even make sense in my own head. Apply my limited verbal communication abilities and I will sound exactly like the crazy person who killed three people in one of his fits.

So, since I’m missing the experience of other people and some memory of my former episodes (except for the fact that was terrible). I will explain one incident, still fresh, that might shine some light on this question.

It started on Wednesday. There are many reasons for the spark to ignite, none of them good ones. It doesn’t change the fact that a small flame started heating up things in my head. Not the sexy or the bitchy heating up. The emotional one. At one moment, I was a robot, at the next I started almost crying.

And this lasted for around 2 days. I knew exactly what was happening as it wasn’t the first or the second or the tenth time, but I was more focused on the fact that right now I HAVE WORK AND OBLIGATIONS, and I NEED TO STAY CLEAR MINDED. And just focus on this, just focus on this, zoom in on that task. You will get through.

This caused two panic attacks on Thursday. Congratulations to me.

Because I am a genius and general society doesn’t take well to you missing work because you are ‘a bit sad’, I went on with my very busy day. A bit drained … a LOT drained. One part of my mind shut down, not even sure which part. I just know I wasn’t all there.

Here comes Friday. And the weekend. And dangerous lack of work.

Time to relax, right?

Nope, time to take all that shit that you didn’t allow to burn during the week and cause the WILDFIRE™ - everything must go. That is what we call a mental breakdown. A flame so bad where you just feel feel feel feel ... everything you buried under the carpet comes back, everything you love gets twisted against you, everything you hate becomes the ruler of your universe, everything you fear your constant companion. Ten, twenty, a hundred voices in your ear telling you how it is … silencing any and every good thing that could deny them.

Mental breakdown with me is different than the panic attack. Panic attack lets me think rationally. I know I have to take in air during them, I know they logically can’t last forever. They will almost always cause me to pass out after. Draining me, but keeping me mostly mentally functioning.

Mental breakdown is emotional. It shuts you down on the very primal level. It overflows your feel-receptors with such power, such hostility, bombarding the being with visions and knowledge so terrible that you know your happy little miserable life was fake all along. Until the body itself decides to pull the plug on emotions. Completely.

You know the movie or book or game scenes where the character finds itself in a white world, surrounded by nothing, talking into emptiness. It’s a bit like that. It would be easier to just stay that way, dead inside. Be a robot. Logically, your depression can’t take away another happy memory if you’re simply not happy anymore. And quite honestly, that seems like an easy decision with the lack of emotions to scare you. But experience has shown me enough times that emotions wake up as well sooner or later and the longer one denies them, the harder it is to control them when they do.

It takes a relatively short time to come back to the real world physically. But since we’re beings of both physical and emotional state as we build our memories on them, it gets a bit tricky to function when only half of you has woken up.

Example as I cleaned the room the same day:

I stare at the computer, and I know I use it for communication and gaming and work. I know how to operate it. It gets dusty and makes me sneeze when I don’t clean it.

I look at the bed: it is used for sleep and rest when my back starts hurting on the infernal chair. Crumpled sheets are fine.

Handcream – used for skin when it gets tight and itchy. Goes in the box with other such stuff.

Pen - …

Pen - …

What the fuck do you use a PEN for?

Now for normal people out there thinking there must be something weird about this object: it’s a PEN – pen for writing with. No special pen. One of those you borrowed and never returned. Just … just a firkin’ PEN. And I had no clue what it was. Why?

Because pen with me is mostly an emotional object. What I use computer for? I use it for gaming, for googling, for computer stuff. I also use it for writing – but that wasn’t my thought at that moment, since writing for me is an emotional action. But because of other technical stuff, I know what a computer is and how to use it.

Pen? I use pen when I write ideas in my notebook. When I write down my favorite quotes and stick them on the wall (everyone who ever visited my room knows EXACTLY what I’m talking about). I use the pen to write time of the clips from Supernatural I need to cut out and put in my library coz I love those moments. I use pen to draw maps of a place I call Home. Everything else (notes, to-do lists) I have the computer and my dumb smartphone for. Pen is almost purely an emotional object with me.

And I stared at that PEN for minutes before making the connection what it’s used for. Not because emotions woke up, but because I remembered using it when I was teaching my favorite math-failure how to add numbers.

I just sat there and stared at the PEN. It was blue and long, and had that clickity thing. And it’s cold to the touch. Plastic. It also makes a dirty blue spot if you touch it from the wrong end. I knew the name, I did not know what to do with it.

But then two things came up: 1. My friend and math, 2. Work and jutting down my boss’ coffee orders on Monday.    

A firkin’ Pen™ – mystery resolved!

This is 5min of my day as I am recovering from a short mental breakdown. Imagine that on a much larger scale, and you might start to understand.  

[justmehiguess-blog]

Just venting where no one will see

I really don’t know anymore what I can do to be happy. I feel like I can’t talk to anyone because I’ll either be judged hard for not liking life, or they’ll just say the basic “but things will get better, you’ll see. It’s almost new year, things will change”.

Nah, bro. Things won’t change. New year's there so everyone can take a group break and eat and drink like there’s no tomorrow because they won’t have to work the next day. New year doesn’t mean shit. It’s just a new day like yesterday was. Just another day to be a burden to everyone I know and disappoint every living soul around me. Alas, my neighbors are probably disappointed in me and I don’t even know their names. They probably know mine from my mom screaming at me all the time because I'm always late, and because I’m useless and I’ll be nothing in life. Bitch is 24 and can’t even get a job at Mc fuckin Donald’s for god knows what reason. 14 year olds get job at fast food chains and I'm not even called for an interview. I’ve spent SO MUCH GOD DAMN TIME trying to learn stuff. I draw, I paint, I sew, I sing. I can write ok, I’m good at math, I can talk to people, I know quite a bit about laws from all the useless time I spend on the internet instead of doing real important shit. I listen. But no one listens to me -probably because I can’t tell anyone everything I feel. I can’t even get to the middle of it before people think I want to hear the common sense self help ready to go talk. I know what I need to do. Get out of the house, get some sun. Take my meds, talk to people, go to class, do some sports, get a job. I know. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to because I know I can’t to half of it and it’s all useless. Why do any of all that shit when I’m going to die and wanting to die? I could just let mom spend all the money she throws in the trash for me with actual useful shit. Help my sister with her son, or help my other sister with her career. Help herself to nice things. Things she could easily have, if not for me. 

Just now I stopped to think about my year. Certainly it couldn’t have been THAT bad. It was, though. My dog died, my other dog hasn’t been the same since. She won’t even eat right and it has been 6 months. I spent money I don’t even have, so I had to ask everyone for some so I could pay my bills, since I can’t get a job. I didn’t finish anything I started, but favorite teacher left to get her doctorates degree on another country -I mean, awesome for her. I was, and still am, super happy for her. But she was all that made me not feel like absolute shit at college, which I failed this semester. I almost sunk my two best friends there on one of the subjects because I had a major breakdown as a result of this year’s election. Election that made me have several panic, anxiety and depressive attacks -all of which were seen as hysteria by my family. I fought with my sister, with whom I haven’t spoken for 2 or 3 months. I fought with my mother, that ended up getting so stressed out she had an allergic reaction to a procedure she had done a month prior. I was probably the reason my other sister lost 2 of her best friends (I’d actually done the same, actually, but oh well). I’m a weight on my boyfriends back, I’m a shitty ass friend and I’m a terrible daughter, sister and aunt. This year was terrible, as were the past 11 years. Almost half my fucking life was shit. I don’t get how people expect me to want to live, really. I don’t know if I’m selfish for wanting to give up or if they are for not accepting I can’t stand being a failure anymore. All I do is cry and make terrible life choices. I don’t know what to do and where to go and I don’t want to figure out. I just want it to end, but I don’t have the balls to do anything. 

At least nobody I know knows this account exists. I finally have a place to say what I want and have nobody reading it. Anonymity has never felt so great.