Hello! So, I am working on a PJO animation/gacha fan series! I need as much help as I can get. If you'd be willing to help out, that would be fantastic!
Meet Soy Sauce and Cheesecake. They are a black and dalmatian molly. They currently have a small 2.5 gallon tank but I will upgrade to a 10 gallon when I can. If I have to, I'll move them to my 50 gallon tank.
Usually send in asks like this when we follow agere blogs but!! we're following from an agere side blog because unfortunately we have to follow from our main^^
That moment when your mom talks to your aunt about your age regression and your aunt says "It's not healthy. She found a symptom and gave it to herself. Drawing and writing are coping mechanisms. Acting like a baby and throwing a tantrum is not" And your mom agreed with her.
I hated school. I never understood the assignments and the teachers were mean. Tony tried explaining the work to me, yet I still wasn't able to grasp it. Today, I was even more stressed out. With my dream last night, the gender dysphoria burning into my head, and what I did in the bathroom, school was the last thing I wanted to do.
That's why I felt myself slipping in class. My mind drifted into my littlespace. I pulled out my pacifier from my backpack, slipping it into my mouth and pulling my mask over it so it wasn't obvious I was using it.
I looked over at Peter, who sat concentrated on whatever the teacher was saying. I debated telling him I was in littlespace, but I decided not to bother him.
I pulled out some markers from my backpack and began coloring all over my notebook. Sitting there doodling made me happy. I felt glad to be in my littlespace in that moment. I still felt stressed out, don't get me wrong, but at least I had an outlet for my stress.
I looked up and realized the class was over. I gathered my things, shoving them into my backpack. I left the classroom, Peter quickly behind me.
"Were you listening to the lesson?" Peter asked curiously. I shook my head.
"Don't worry, I can help you. I know you're stressed out right now," Peter said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him, shutting my eyes for a brief moment. He kissed the top of my head.
"I'll see you after class!" He exclaimed, turning around and practically running to his next class. I waved goodbye sadly and walked into the doorway of AP Biology.
- - - - -
Tony sat in the living room, something incoherent playing in the background. He was pretty sure it was a crime show, but he wasn't paying any attention to it.
What he was paying attention to however, was Isabella. This was the eighth time he woke up to her screaming. Since she was basically his child, he needed to make sure she was okay. How he would go about asking her was another question.
He decided to set something up with Friday. Everytime Isabella woke up screaming, he would be alerted. He would then go to her room and check in and maybe even comfort her if needed.
He also added something to Friday's new program about alerting him if there was a major change in her, such as being more happy or sad. He figured this would help a lot more. True it may be spying on her, but she was important to him. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And this was the best way to help with it. Or so he thought.
- - - - -
My hands hung loosely by my side as Peter and I rode up the elevator. I swung them aimlessly side to side. Peter and I sat in comfortable silence as we waited for the floor we wanted to arrive.
I couldn't wait till I got home. I wanted to check on my Sims 4 sims and maybe get some little time in after homework to avoid self-harming and having a panic attack. Maybe Peter and I could watch the new Mitchells VS Machines movie that just came out on Netflix. Either way, I was eager to get home.
With a ding, the elevator dropped us off on the floor with the living room and our bedrooms on it. Peter and I left the elevator and entered the spacious area.
As I was walking towards my room, I realized how often I'd been regressing recently. It probably wasn't a good sign, but I didn't really have a therapist to talk to about it. I would just have to try avoiding voluntarily regressing for a while.
When I entered my room, the first thing I noticed was how spotless it was. Someone must have came in and cleaned it while I was gone.
I sat down at my computer and turned on the Sims 4. I sat playing around with the little characters for a while. I found it funny how I put in more effort into taking care of fake little computer characters I had created than myself. It is what it is, right?
Time passed. I eventually finished on the Sims and went to work on some homework, which I was absolutely no good at. The work stressed me out beyond belief. My teachers didn't put much care into how their students felt about the work they were assigned, which was too bad to be honest.
I tried my hardest to complete my Algebra 1 homework, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get past the first question. I groaned in mental agony.
"Friday, ask Peter to come here please," I called out towards the AI.
"Alright Miss June, I will."
A few moments later and Peter was knocking on my bedroom door. I called out for him to come in, sitting back up on my bed.
"What's up?" He asked, leaning against the door.
"I need help," I whined, already feeling myself slipping.
"Okay! What with?"
"Algebra 1."
He walked over to my bed and sat down beside me. He picked up my homework sheet and began reading the section I was on.
"Mhm.. Okay," He said, "Well..." He began to go off about the work, but I wasn't listening. My brain was too busy slipping into my headspace. Peter noticed this and set the homework sheet down.
"Hey little one."
"Hewo daddy!" My cheerful voice said.
Peter walked over to my closet and grabbed my paci, rabbit, and a few other things from the box. He handed them to me and sat back down. I noticed one of the thing he grabbed was my two coloring books and a box of crayons.
"Here you go baby. Do you want to color with me?" He asked.
I shook my head yes, popping my paci into my mouth. Peter smiled. He handed me my My Little Pony coloring book and the crayons. He grabbed an orange crayon from the box and began coloring in a picture. I giggled slightly.
That's when there was a knock on the door.
"Are you okay Isabella?" Tony's voice spoke through the other side of the wall.
I woke up with a scream. Memories burned through my head like they had only happened hours before. I let out a heavy sob into my pillow. I kept remembering the deaths of my parents, even though that happened four years ago. I wanted to scream and cry, just letting all my feelings out, but I didn't want to wake up anyone else. Especially Peter, who slept in the room across from mine.
I pulled my red fluffy blanket up to my chin, snuggling into it tightly. I rubbed the tears off of my face and stared at my bedroom door.
"I noticed that you are in a panicked state Miss June. Should I alert Mr. Stark?" Friday chimed in over the speakers. I shook my head frantically.
"No no no, please don't. I'm fine," I said, sitting up in bed.
"If you are sure Miss June."
"I'm sure."
I sighed, covering my face with my sleeves. My mind began flooding with urges I know I shouldn't give into. But it felt so nice to give into them.
No.
I climbed out of bed and walked over to my closet. Inside was a box filled to the brim with children's items I'd been collecting ever since I started age regressing. Peter knew about my age regression, being my best friend and all, so he helped me collect a few things from garage sales and thrift stores. My most prize possessions were my paci and a blue rabbit plush that my mom had gotten me when I was six.
I pulled the box out and sat on the floor. I grabbed my pacifier and my stuffie. After popping my paci into my mouth, I climbed back into bed. My mind began drifting into littlespace.
"Fwiday! Pway My Wittle Pony pwease," I asked. The show immediately began playing on the rather large TV on the other end of the room.
I looked at the clock beside my bed. 3:32am. I told myself I would go back to sleep by 5am since I had school in the morning. Peter and I went to the same school. Ever since his Aunt May passed away due to a car accident, we've been going to a school near the Avengers Tower.
I hugged my plushie, who I'd named Bluey, and cuddled tightly with my blankets.
Knock Knock.
"Hey Isa, you doing okay in there?" Peter called out, leaning against the bedroom door.
"I is doing okay!" I replied, still snuggling close to Bluey.
Peter realized his best friend was in littlespace. He gently opened the door and peeked inside.
"Are you sure you're okay Isabella? I heard you scream a few minutes ago," Peter asked, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. He kneeled beside my bed.
"Uh..." Tears began forming in my blue eyes. They began running down my face faster than they had formed.
"Hey, it's okay... Come here." Peter climbed into bed with me and wrapped his arms tightly around my body. I let out heavy sobs into his chest.
"Shh... It's okay Isabella it's okay."
I cried harder at the sound of my deadname. No one in the tower knew I was trans. I wish they did so it didn't hurt, but they didn't. Not even my best friend knew.
"It's okay little one it's okay. Look! See what Rainbow Dash and Twilight are doing?" He said, pointing to the TV. I looked up through my tears and the television and giggled slightly.
"That's my girl." He placed a light kiss on the top of my head. He then pulled the covers up both of us, letting me snuggle into him.
Eventually my tears lightened up and I began falling asleep. Peter began to sing some kind of lullaby quietly into my ear. My last thought before drifting off into sleep was how glad I was to have Peter as my best friend and caregiver.
-
The first thing I noticed upon waking up was Peter by my side. I don't quite remember what happened the night before, but with my paci in my mouth, I have some guesses.
I climbed out of bed and walked over to my closet. I pulled out a long sleeved blue shirt, ripped jeans, a studded belt, and underwear. I walked over to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I strip of my clothes and climb under the burning hot water. It was just perfect for me, although some might call me crazy.
TW: Mentions of Scars, Self Deprecation/Self Image Issues, Self-harm
I looked down at my body. Pink, red, and white lines laid across my thighs and arms. I frowned. I hated looking at my body. The scars were just another reason to hate my appearance. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the water, feeling it cascade down my body.
I quickly washed my hair and body with some men's Shampoo and Bodywash I snuck out of Tony's bathroom. It made me feel a tiny bit better, but thoughts and urges still burned into my mind.
I pulled my clothes onto my body. Tucking in my shirt, I then wrapped the studded belt around my waist and looked in the mirror. I hated ever inch of what I saw looking back at me.
I began rummaging in the drawers. Eventually, I found a blade that looked like it had been used for this exact thing before. Tears began spilling from my eyes. They rolled down my cheeks. I cried quietly in the bathroom. It hurt so badly, yet I couldn't stop.
TW Over
Eventually, I put the blade away and cleaned myself up. I washed the blood away in the sink and applied antibiotic cream and bandages across my arms. I left the bathroom and entered my own room. I noticed Peter was no longer there. He must have went to eat breakfast.
I left my bedroom and headed for the dining room/kitchen. It was only 6:30 in the morning, but a few of the Avengers usually were up by then. Especially Peter and I since we had school in half an hour.
Once I arrived in the dining room area, I noticed Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Peter all bustling around making breakfast. I quietly went to join them, simply grabbing bread and almond butter from the pantry. I popped the bread in the toaster and waited.
"Good morning Isabella," Tony greeted, his eyes not shifting from the eggs and bacon he was making.
"Good morning Tony." I stood waiting patiently for my toast when Peter came up to me.
"You doing okay Isa?" He asked, a concerned look across his face.
"I'm fine. Thanks for asking though," I responded. Peter obviously wasn't convinced, but walked back to his cereal, still concerned.
As soon as my toast popped, I spread the almond butter on it and began eating. I was vegetarian, so I preferred not to eat diary products when it was avoidable.
I sat beside Peter. We ate in silence, avoiding addressing what had happened the night before. I quite frankly didn't want to talk about it, but I knew he wanted to make sure I was okay. I was fine. At least, that's all he needed to know.
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