#Tw: anxiety

[comatosebunny09]

the quiet game [ snip ] | sylus

‘i need you’

It’s a simple text, yet it blares through the mire that his room’s sunken into. Has him sitting up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pushing his hair back, and the sheet’s soft as it glides down his bare torso to puddle around his waist.

His thumb hovers over your message. Quivers and twitches. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath or counting his heartbeats until he blinks, waiting for you to finish. Watching those telltale bubbles appear and disappear as you struggle to form more words—more context.

But you don’t.

And it isn’t normal for you to be so brief—so cryptic. Which could mean one of two things: you’re genuinely in peril or playing a sick, cruel joke on him.

He opts for the former, used to these phases you occasionally lapse into. Where your messages lack their usual luster. He can feel the dark undertones of your words curling around him through the screen. And something cold sinks into his belly, its talons clawing at his heart.

You need him.

He’s on his feet without thinking. Pouring himself into his jeans, shrugging into a shirt, tugging his boots on. Moving with a sense of purpose through the quieted halls of his mansion, stopping only to grab his leather jacket from the coat rack and to shove his motorcycle keys into his pocket.

The underground garage swallows him whole, and the shadows of the basement dance across his features, hanging between the set of his jaws and the glabellar lines forming between his brows.

Luke and Kieran peer curiously from an alcove after Sylus’ exit. Fix each other with comically perturbed looks. Even beneath the veil of their masks, they read each other’s expressions, and they shrug.

Whatever’s got their boss on edge is none of their concern—yet. He’ll call them if he needs backup.

They’re sure of it.

[httpdwaekki]

soothe | h.j.

summary: you were well aware of jisung's anxiety, but you notice he takes a certain interest in the ink on your skin.

wc: 966

warnings: brief mentions of anxiety, mentions of the reader having tattoos. not proofread at all. lowercase intended.

a/n: i used to color and trace my tattoos when i got anxious so i was just thinking about ji doin the same thing. also it is very late and i'm running on a solid 4 hours of sleep but i wanted to write something so now we have this LMAO. anyway i hope u enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you were well aware of jisung's anxiety. you yourself suffered from it so you understood, the feelings and frustrations that came along with the sinking feel.

you weren't always sure what would trigger the uneasy feeling in the boy, but you were there no matter what. you knew sometimes you just had to put on an anime and hold him until he felt better.

other times you'd sit and listen as he voiced this thoughts running rampant in his head.

however there was something new that you noticed you would lay with him. he'd trace the ink along your skin, drawing every line and every shading etched into your soft skin.

you noticed it when you were laying on your bed one day when the ugly feeling settled in his tummy once again. jisung was in front of you, his back to your chest, yours leaning against the head board, arms wrapped loosely around his torso, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on his stomach.

jisung was barely paying attention the show lowly playing on the screen. not that you were either, hyper focused to gage any change in his demeanor, making sure he was relaxing.

that's when you felt it, the soft brush on your arm, right where your favorite flower was inked into the skin of your forearm. you glance down, watching for a moment, as he traced the lines one by one before moving on to the next section of art.

you couldn't help the heat the rose to your cheek, as he careful recreated the marks so beautifully etched onto your skin. as you watched you had an idea. you place a soft kiss to his hair before lightly tapping his tummy.

"get up for a second bub, i'm gonna grab something quick." you felt him tense, turning his head towards you, hesitating for a moment. "i'll be right back jagiya, i promise. less than 2 minutes." he slightly nodded before sitting up. you place a kiss on his shoulder as you scoot out from behind him.

quickly making your way to your office, you find exactly what you were looking for. you quickly grab it, making your way back to your room. you find jisung in the same place you left him, expect he looked zoned out, toying with the strings of his hoodie.

you sit beside him, placing a gentle hand to his puffy cheek. you looks up, boba eyes shining with worry. you could practically see the thoughts clouding his pretty mind. you give him a smile before placing the bag of colorful markers in his lap.

he looks down at the bag and back to you, confusion now present in his eyes. "so you could color them in if you want." you shrugged, getting up, kissing his forehead before moving to lay behind him once more.

you lightly pull him back into your embrace, arms finding home around him once more. his head positioned on your collarbone, under your chin, relaxing into your touch.

a few moments later you hear the sound of plastic rustling and the familiar sound of markers clashing against each other. once he found the color he was looking for, quietly taking the top off, and begin carefully coloring each one in.

you had a perfect view at his art from above him. your other hand continuing the soothing circles on the skin of his stomach. you smile and you watch him go from coloring to watching the tv. you place a kiss to his hair once more, as he finishes coloring in your ghost. he caps the marker, placing it back in the bag, before carefully setting the colorful ink on your bedside table.

he turns around as he makes his return to you, his turn to wrap his arms around you. you gladly take him into your arms as he shoves his face into your neck. you stay there for a moment before he places a kiss in the junction of you neck and shoulder.

"you okay, ji?" you asked softly. he nods, "i'm okay baby, thank you." he gives you one more squeeze before pulling back.

"what would i do without you, hm?" he asks, placing peck to your lips. your lip turn upwards slightly, "i'm just helping you, jagi, you deserve to be happy." he kisses you once more, this time with a bit more passion.

"you're gonna make me start crying." he mumbles against your plush lips. "okay well don't do that, cause that'd make me sad." you shake your head. "how about i order us some take out and we just stay like this for the rest of the night?" you offer, staring into his boba eyes.

"and if you wanna talk later, i'm here to listen okay?" he nods, falling back into your embrace. "i love you okay? i'm always here, whenever, where ever, you say the word i'm there." you place a kiss to the side of his head.

you feel his breathing start to become uneven, panic arising in your chest. "ji? hey, hey, talk to me baby." you pull him back to look at you. big eyes now brimmed with tears. "what's going on in that head of yours, hm?" ask, rubbing his cheeks.

he shakes his head. "nothing, i just really fucking love you. i don't know what i ever did to deserve you." he says, tears slowly making their way down his face.

"you're you, you deserve everything i can give you and more, okay?" he closes his eyes, nodding his head. you place kisses over each eye lid and finally his forehead.

you pull him back to you, and that's where you stay for the rest of the night. wrapped up in each other, eating ramen before falling asleep in each other's arms.

p.s. new username ah !! i used to be voidreams but i wanted a change hehe. but i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are always appreciated but never expected :3

[irondadmadlads]

Irondad Prompt #208:

Peter: Do you ever feel like you can’t breathe when you can breathe and you’re like “why can’t I breathe?” so you start freaking out but you can breathe so now you’re just hyperventilating and—

Tony: Peter, that’s anxiety

Peter: That’s what now?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

I know your request are closed. But I just wanted to send this one in while is still remember it.

Can you do one with reader having bad anxiety and lando her boyfriend is there to comfort her. Like she is picking at her nails and shaking her legs and he put his hands k her legs and hands to stop her.

Also I love your aftermath serie for lando :)

Meet the Parents || LN4

Lando could feel the slight vibrations shaking the table and he could see the carafe of water rippling with each bounce of your knee. Slipping one hand beneath the tabletop, he ran long soothing strokes up and down the skin, feeling the jittery movements calm until your shoes settled flat on the tile floor.

“We can go, love,” he offered quietly as he took your hand. Your palms were clammy against his skin and he looked down to see the nails bitten back to the quick. The cuticles were even worse, inflamed and red from picking at them in your anxious state. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You dragged your eyes away from the fixated space beside the door and found Lando already getting to his feet. “B-but they are your parents,” you stammered as a fresh wave of panic crested. You were meant to be introducing yourself to them, the next step in your relationship with Lando and you feared how cancelling at the last minute would be taken by the people Lando loved most.

“And you are my girlfriend,” he said as he pulled you to your feet and kissed the corner of your mouth. “I don’t want you being uncomfortable, love. They’ll understand.”

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to lie and say you were fine but he saw right through the weak words. Leading you to the door of the quaint cafe, not far from where they lived in Glastonbury, he opened it and was greeted by a friendly smile. You barely had time to process that his mother and father were in front of you before the older woman wrapped her arms around you with the same energy her son had.

“You’re even more beautiful than Lando described!” Cisca pulled back with a warm smile that eased some of the anxiety in your chest and you found yet another similarity between the mother and son.

“We were just heading off, mum, I was about to call-”

“It’s okay, Lan,” you said softly as you squeezed his hand and gave a reassuring nod before smiling back at his mother. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

[neishroom]

cleo mood board

[cari-morningcrest]

Cari was sunggled in the corner of the nest they’d made on their bed, hugging a plush sniffer close to their chest and burying their face in the toy’s side.

Their lights were off and curtains were closed- the only light in the room coming from the stringlights around the nest and the soft glow of the stars painted on their ceiling.

“Everything’s so loud..” Cari whispered, pressing their hands over their ears and closing their eyes, curling into a ball- the sniffer plushie between their legs and chest.

“Why wont it just shut up.? Everything feels so wrong…”

[aftgficrec]

Anonymous asked: Is there any new Nicky and or/twinyard centred fics or any Kevin wymack bonding ones?

Or wymack parenting the other foxes?

Here’s part 2, Kevin bonding with Wymack under various circumstances! - S

NB: Nicky/twinyards centered fics here, parental Wymack here

also see…

Kevin & Wymack bonding here

changes by ParkeRose [Rated M, 15588 words, incomplete, last updated July 2024]

After Tetsuji Moriyama gives him up at the age of fourteen, Kevin Day goes to his father with one letter in his pocket and infinite hope in his heart.

dreams fall hard by cloudberrysoda [Rated T, 1979 words, complete, 2024]

Part 2 of human behavior (do as you please)

"You look like shit, kid." Kevin talks to his dad (and accidentally reveals too much). Set during vanilla baby. Read that first

tw: implied/referenced alcohol abuse

These Green Eyes (Hers, Yours) by maydaykevin [Rated G, 1649 words, complete, 2024]

Kevin and David share a quiet moment.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

stamps by mostly_micro (mostly_maudlin) [Rated G, 100 words, complete, 2024]

The first arrives a week after Wymack gets home.

a lot's gonna change by neverlyxox [Rated T, 7347 words, complete, 2023]

Kevin started going to therapy at the beginning of the fall semester. It hadn’t been his idea, nor was he particularly happy about it. He could barely talk to the Foxes about his issues– and when he did, he definitely wasn’t sober– so how was he supposed to talk to a total stranger about it?

tw: alcohol abuse

boiling alive (at least it's what it feels like) by redinmyveins [Rated G, 1031 words, complete, 2023]

Part 2 of by the end of the day, we only have ourselves

Kevin Day is the best, but unfortunately his immunity system isn't and he ends up with the worst flu he ever had. By the way, that's also the first time David Wymack has to deal with the feeling of caring about someone of his kids sick. More specifically, his kid. His son. Or the first time David Wymack experiences one of the first experiences of being a parent: Having to take care of your kid when he's sick.

tw: negative self talk

one is chance, two is coincidence, and three's a pattern, (but let’s stop at two, okay?) by mistyrie [Rated M, 11396 words, complete, 2023]

It's the summer after winning championships when David Wymack gets a rude wake-up call. Apparently, an old acquaintance of his has passed and left behind a son in her wake — a son who may turn out to be David's... Another Kevin, so to say - and just as he and David are starting to figure it out together. – Because if it happened once, then why wouldn't it a second time?

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism

loveless is no way to live by orphan_account [Rated T, 5934 words, complete, 2021]

just kevin crying, really (+ wymack trying to be a good dad)

tw: anxiety, tw: emotional isolation, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: emotional abuse, tw: ptsd, tw: nervous breakdown

i’m so sorry, dad by grievingfortheliving [Not Rated, 1215 words, complete, 2021, locked]

The missing scene where Wymack learns he has a son

Tapes by Marmeladeskies [Rated G, 781 words, complete, 2019]

Wymack declutters and finds an old VHS tape.

Kevin’s call to Wymack at thanksgiving by @ninyard [tumblr, 2024]

it’s such a good reason as to why i could put him on the stand. like perfect kevin day trying to explain why he’d seen a dead body and called wymack before anything else? and how that phone call went as well? what if they played it?

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

When team USA wins Olympic Gold for the first time… by @exy-shmexy [tumblr, 2023]

Art

like father, like son 🫶 by @deklo

wymack and lil kevin 🫶 by @deklo

Wymack and Kevin’s first Christmas by @jojen-hewitt

[lovealexhunt]

If you've followed me for any length of time, you would know that mental health awareness and suicide prevention are two topics that I hold very close to my heart.

I've struggled with depression and anxiety since I was a child. My parents didn't believe in mental health challenges and so my struggles were ignored and I was made to feel as though my struggles weren't real and something was wrong with me. I buried my mental health issues, hiding behind a mask of perfectionism and over-achieving. Those I saw in school or work, never know how greatly I struggled. However, hiding how I felt only made things worse and I struggled with suicide thoughts and attempts for a few years before finally seeing a doctor to get help.

I take medication for both depression and anxiety. These medications help take the edge off but they're not a cure. They aren't a magic pill that makes everything okay again. But they help and for that I am grateful.

I still struggle with depression and anxiety on a daily basis. There are days when the suicide thoughts creep back out, but through my experiences and working to raise awareness, I feel strong enough to remind myself they are just thoughts and I don't have to act on them. I hope that if it ever got that bad again, I would use some of the strategies from above: focusing on creative works, reaching out to others, trying to find reasons to be grateful.

Thinking positively or thinking "happy thoughts" is not easy. Sometimes I see and encouraging quote and they make me mad because I can't feel that way right now, but I still save them, because maybe tomorrow, that little reminder will be just what i need.

If you know me, I believe in the small little acts to make a difference. I've been making mental health awareness and suicide prevention posts for several years now, but I don't think I've ever had an image dedicated to small acts of kindness.

We don't know what anyone is facing (in person or virtually/online). With some, spotting signs of depression and suicidal tendencies is easier to spot. These individuals display more common signs and symptoms. But there are many more people who are high-functioning. On the surface, they seem put together, but underneath they are struggling. It is because of this that I so strongly believe in little acts of kindness: sending an encouraging word, checking in on others, giving little compliments here and there... these are small things, but you never know how big of an impact they can make.

Please continue to raise and spread awareness for depression and suicide prevention. It's only together that we can make a difference.

[jolapeno]

this could be the anxiety-induced depression talking, but: if you’re wandering aimlessly unsure what you’re doing—you’re not alone. if you feel like you’re surrounded by people, shouting and screaming, but no one can hear you, and you feel so alone, i promise, it’s going to be okay. if you’re staring at an empty document, the curser blinking and blinking, feeling like you can’t write, like you’re broken, I promise you’re not—and there’s always tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that where words might flow. and if you’re thinking you’re a fraud, like a massive imposter—like you’re being weighed down by rocks, sheets and your own expectation—it’s okay, I am too. while I’m not sure if any of that brings any comfort, I hope it does. because you’re not alone, and neither am I. and sometimes, we just need to hear that, and be told that if the best we can do is take an hour at a time, a day, a week that is very much okay. and sometimes, just admitting that it’s not okay, is also okay. okay? 🩷🫂

[nowritingonthewall]

I just called to say I love you

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Words: 1500

Summary: When you are worried about Poe on his mission, he tries to put your mind at ease.

Warnings: Mostly fluff with some sprinkles of angst, reader is extremely anxious in the beginning, no gender specific descriptions of the reader but Poe refers to them as Beebs’ mommy

The buzzing of your holopad made you wake from your troubled dreams with a start. Still in a daze, it took you several seconds to become aware of your surroundings and realize that you must have fallen asleep on your bed after tossing and turning for hours.

Slightly disoriented you groggily tried to grab your holopad from your nightstand, when you realized with a jolt that there was only one person who would try to contact you at this time of night. The reason why you hadn’t been able to find any proper rest for more than three weeks now: Poe.

Suddenly wide awake, you quickly unlock the holo call while trying to find some clothes between the sheets in case you would have to jump into action immediately.

“Poe?!”

“Hey, Koyopoo!”

“Are you all right? Do you need back up? A mechanic crew? An emergency medical team? Substitute transport?”

“Actually I just – “

“You didn’t accidentally blow up another X-wing, did you? Did you blow up another X-wing? Please tell me you didn’t blow up another X-wing!”

“No honey, I just – “

“Why didn’t you contact the control room? Did Lt. Prebun mix up the frequencies for the emergency channels again? I swear, this guy…”

“Sweetheart, could you just – “

“I told you, you should have taken more pilots to the rendezvous point, didn’t I? I told you…”

You were half way finished with trying to pull the next best shirt over your legs when your sleep-deprived brain finally caught up with the lack of urgency in Poe’s voice. You hesitated.

“Wait, why… why are you so calm?”

“Because you seem to be excited enough for the two of us?”

“Sh… sorry, sweetie!” You tried your best to calm down taking a deep breath before asking, “What do you need?”

“First of all, I need you to relax, bups, everything’s fine!”

“I am relaxed!!!” you shot back with the calmness of an exploding death star.

“Snugglebums…” he cooed gently.

“Kriff, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just… slightly on edge.”

“I know, pumpkin, that’s why I wanted to tell you the we’re all okay as soon as the comms were safe to use again.” His voice was so soft and soothing that you could actually feel some of the tension being released from your body.   

“Also…”

There was always an ‘also’ with Poe, wasn’t there. As if reading your thoughts, though, he immediately assured you, “Everything is fine, really! I just… I just needed to hear your voice.”

Even through the blurry image generated by your holopad you could see the warmth and adoration radiating from his eyes as he lovingly touched the screen of his device.

You could only imagine how much of a mess you probably represented right now, with your tousled and tangled hair sticking up from your head in every direction, your puffy eyes heavy from sleep deprivation and your face crinkled with worry lines. Yet Poe’s eyes seemed to glisten as if he was looking at the most precious treasure in the galaxy. He might have been at the other end of the universe and yet you could sense his feelings for you flowing through you, warming your heart and soul as if he was right there beside you.

Despite your best attempts at trying to sound serious, you weren’t able to keep your emotions out of your voice. “Poe, you know what the General said about keeping the comms clear during missions...”

“I remember, peachy!” He grinned. “But I have a very important message for you, you see?”

“Wait, what, you do? Hang on a second…”

Switching into mission mode again, you frantically rummaged through your sheets looking for your datapad to write down Poe’s message. When you finally found it, you unlocked it as quickly as possible, nodding in Poe’s direction, “Okay, I’m ready, shoot!”

“Right.” He cleared his throat a little overdramatically.

“I just called…” he began.

“I just called…” you repeated typing as fast as you could.

“…to say…” he continued.

“…to say…” you repeated, wondering why nobody had informed you that the secret code for transmitting messages had obviously been changed again.

“I love you!”

“I love… Pohoe!”

“Awwwww did you hear that, Beebs? Your mommy loves me!” The mischievous glint in his eyes accompanying his cheeky smile was framed by the most gorgeous crinkles in the galaxy.

Fighting very hard to refrain from simply covering the holo projection in smoochies, you tried to remember your professional training when you asked him cautiously, “Poe, what did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?” He raised an eyebrow without losing his scrumptious smile.

“Well, for starters, you calling me Beebs’ mommy usually means that you fear you might be in trouble.”

As the transmittance became a little wibbly-wobbly, you were only able to catch a few excited beeps before you could hear Poe again, “Beebs wants to know if you love him, too!”

“Changing the subject, are we, sweetie? Of course, I love him, too!”

“I’m sorry, peanut, I don’t think he heard that.”

“I love you, Beebs!” you exclaimed a little louder.

“Whaaaaat?”

“I love you, Beebs!” you basically screamed at your holopad.

“Geez, babe, there really is no need to wake up half the base!”

Spinning around you nearly fell of the bed when you realized that the man you had assumed to be several systems away was suddenly standing in the door to your room.

“I am going to ki…” – “kiss me?” he chimed in hopefully.

You were about to tell him that he got it half right and look for a pillow or maybe something not so soft to throw at him, when the relief of seeing him safe and sound took over and you leapt to your feet closing the distance between the two of you in a heartbeat. Throwing your arms around him, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, not quite succeeding at suppressing a few sobs of relief.

Whatever cheeky grin or witty comment might have been on his lips, was quickly wiped away as he pulled you as close to him as humanly possible. “Hey, Koyopoo,” he whispered softly, placing a gentle kiss on top of your head.

You allowed yourself to cling to him just long enough to convince yourself that he was actually back and safe in your arms before pulling back to examine him for possible injuries. At least that had been your plan. Which was significantly hampered by the fact that Poe was not ready to let go of you yet by a long shot.

“Poe, sweetie, just lemme…“ – “I’m fine,” he said, knowing exactly what you were about to do and not loosening his hold on you one bit.

“The last time you said that you had to spend two weeks in intensive care,” you pointed out,  drawing a sheepish giggle from him. 

“I’m fine, love,” he repeated a little softer before pulling you even closer to his chest. Closer than you could remember ever being held by him. Close enough for your relief to be dampened by concern.

“Poe, what happened on that mission?” you asked him softly.

“Nothing. I mean, nothing to worry about. I just really really really missed you, boo.”

Gently cupping his cheek you scanned his face carefully, finding nothing there but pure sincerity and endless affection.

Before you got the chance to lean in for a proper kiss, you felt a nudge to your knee, which was followed by a few impatient beeps.

“Oh yeah, Beebs would like to tell you that he loves you too!” Poe explained laughing.

As you knelt down to give the little droid a few belly rubs, he began to wiggle excitedly and chirp happy beeps at you, which became even happier when you leaned forward to place a little kiss on his dome.

“Oh, so *he* gets a kiss?” Poe pouted.

“That’s for bringing him safely back to me,” you explained partly to him and partly to the little droid. “Thank you, Beebs!”

“I had a little to do with it, too, you know.” As he crossed his arms as if he had been mortally offended, his pout intensified.

“Sure you had, flyboy!” you grinned, patting his knee sympathetically.

“C’mere!”

Pulling you back up and into his arms, he gently rubbed his nose against yours before hugging you even tighter than before. As your head came to rest on his shoulder, he put his cheek against yours, tenderly swaying you both from side to side, as if dancing to a silent and soothing rhythm.

“Baby, we really need to find a way to help you relax and stop worrying so much whenever I am on a mission.”

“Mmhhmmmm…” you hummed against his shoulder. “You mean like when you start pacing across the landing pad three hours before my scheduled return? Like when you personally double-check each first aid kit on our transports? Like when you ask my mech at least five times if they are sure my wing is in ship shape condition before every flight? Like when you nearly lost it with the new comm officer for losing contact with me during our last mission?” You raised your head to be able to look at him. “That kind of relaxing?”

“Hold on, I didn’t… how do you even know about this?”

Unable to hide your smile, your gaze flickered involuntarily towards BB-8, prompting Poe to grumble, “You little snitch!”

Appalled by the accusation, the little droid rolled backwards chirping a few indignant beeps that were followed by a long and sad one.

“No, no, of course I am not mad at you, buddy!”

“Whoooeeeeeeh! Bleep blob da blibbo?”

“No, I have no idea why they are wearing my shirt on their bum,” Poe laughed before turning back to you. “Sweetiepie? Why *are* you wearing my shirt on your bum?”

Letting out a groan you leaned your forehead against his shoulder. “Because.”

With a chuckle, Poe pulled you closer towards him.

“I think I kind of like it.”

“Really…” you murmured into the fabric of his flight suit.

“Can I tell you what else would look really good on your bum?”

“Mmhmmm? Of course you can,“ you mumbled as you nuzzled your face deeper into the crook of his neck.

With the fast decrease of adrenaline in your system now that you were back in his arms, you could feel the last weeks of worrying catching up with you quickly and your head was growing heavier by the second. If it hadn’t been for Poe holding you upright as you melted into him, you probably would have collapsed already.

“Maybe some other time,” he smiled. Keeping you steady against his chest, he carefully guided you to your bed. After gently helping you to lie down, he took a moment to smile at the way you seemed to be drifting back to sleep already.

Having made sure that BB-8 was properly docked into his charging station, he swiftly got out of his boots and his flight suit before climbing into bed right next to you.

As he pulled the cover over both of you, you snuggled up against him laying your arm around him, melting into his comforting warmth with your head tugged safely beneath his chin. Slowly stroking his hand up and down your back while leaving the softest of kisses on your temple, he could feel you smiling against his chest.

“Hey, Poe?”

“Mmhhhm?”

“I love you, too!”

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this little blurb, I would love to hear from you 💜

[ms-fandomgirl]

BBHG: Onigiri (Ch. 5)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 3,151

Summary: A chance encounter in the Shibuya Train Station leaves you with a sore shoulder and a mysterious bento box. You’re willing to write the incident off and move on, otherwise preoccupied with navigating a new city and a new job, but a bombastic blond, meddling friend, and fate itself seem to have other plans.

Genre: Pro Hero AU, fluff, strangers to lovers, medical setting

Links: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Cross-posted on Ao3!

Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks. It doesn't get too out of control, but I wanted to let you know just in case. If you don't want to read it because of this, message me and I can send you a summary.

Onigiri - An extremely popular, portable food made from white rice formed into triangular or spherical shapes often wrapped in nori. Popular fillings within onigiri include tuna mayo, grilled salmon flakes, pickled plum, and salted cod roe.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Good Smelling Asshole: Had to pick up an extra patrol just now. Can’t meet for lunch. Sorry.

You frowned as you sent a ‘thumbs down’ that came straight from the heart. Three small gray dots appeared immediately after, followed by a gif of a crying baby. You knew he was calling you out for your inevitable pouting, but you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips at the sight.

“Oooh is someone texting a boy?” a voice teased over your shoulder. You jumped in surprise, clutching the phone close to your chest out of reflex. Hina cackled at your reaction, leaning against the wall in support.

“You’re so in trouble! I’m gonna tell mom,” she gasped out between laughs.

You rolled your eyes before shoving her shoulder. “If you tell mom, then I’m not sharing my onigiri with you for lunch.”

She immediately straightened at the offer of food, pushing off the wall to stand by your side once again. “I’m guessing room 3307 won’t have any visitors today?”

You shook your head. “Extra patrol shift. And you?”

Hina looked away at your question, eyes downcast. “I don’t know. He was just supposed to be gone for the weekend on a mission, but I haven’t heard anything yet. Not that I was expecting to hear anything once he got back, of course, but, well, you know-”

She trailed off, and you gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Then we’ll just have a long overdue girl’s lunch,” you said with finality.

Hina grinned at your statement, nodding in agreement before heading toward the break room door. “I’ll meet you at our regular spot in the park in a couple of minutes. I need to grab a jacket first.”

You followed her out of the door, turning left toward the elevators while she continued down the hallway towards the lockers. The park she mentioned was directly across from the hospital, a little block of nature within the towering skyscrapers and technology. It was well kept with a small pond and clean pathways, and you loved eating there when you had the time.

Stepping out of the hospital, you shivered as you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck. Even though springtime was supposed to mean nicer weather, a cold front had blown in, and you were suffering the consequences. Despite this, the sun was shining, and you were determined to have a good time outside. It had been a while since you had been able to do this, after all. With Bakugou being himself, you now had lunches in room 3307 to avoid prying eyes, although you would privately consider this change in routine well worth it.

You nodded to a young sidekick on patrol as you waited at the crosswalk, idly watching as he passed. That was another change that had happened recently as well. Security had increased across the city, heroes and law enforcement set on edge as time continued to pass and the parade day villain continued to be at large.

Striking in dark alleys and empty streets, three more heroes had turned up unconscious, toxins flowing through their veins from a simple pinprick in their neck. The symptoms were getting worse too. One man was found in a pile of his own vomit, while another heroine continued to have sporadic seizures even within her comatose state.

The media outlets were calling him ‘Basilisk’ now, which you thought was a terrible idea. For one, that wasn’t even how basilisks worked. A basilisk paralyzed its victims by a single look, not by a shot to the neck. For another, and much more important reason, giving him a name meant giving people something to fear, and that fear meant power. You had seen this shift firsthand. The ICU: Quirk Related Injury unit had been busier than ever, as other villains took advantage of this paranoia to cause destruction and mayhem of their own.

You shuddered at the thought, almost rethinking your choice to eat in a public space as you crossed the street. However, the hesitance faded as you made it to the park, watching children play on the colorful playground nearby as you made your way down the path towards the pond. While there were some nice picnic benches set up along the way, you bypassed those in favor of a bench set slightly back into the woods. It was surrounded by trees, offering more privacy, and it had a beautiful view of the water making it your favorite spot.

You had just finished setting up your bento when Hina arrived. She rubbed her hands together, eyes glinting as she took in the assortment of onigiri before her. After several seconds of deliberation, she reached for one in the shape of a star with a slight dusting of sesame seeds on the top. She took a bite, humming in satisfaction as she tasted the spicy tuna mayo filling.

“How come you never made my lunches so cute?” she complained, holding up the star with the top point bitten off it. Before the madness of the villain attack had occurred, you often switched lunches with her.

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you picked up an onigiri yourself, this one shaped in a traditional ball. “You never graded them like you were Gordon Ramsay.”  

“Mhm, and I’m sure that’s the only reason too,” she said, tilting her head to give you a knowing look.

“Well, I always was an achiever child.” You raised your chin, pretending to flip your hair behind your back. “And I’m sure the reason you chose that jacket was because it’s your warmest?”

You eyed her choice of outerwear skeptically. The indigo letterman with white trim was swallowing her whole, yet she somehow managed to pull it off. On closer inspection, you noticed that the scrunchie in her hair even matched the color of the golden ‘S’ embroidered on the front left pocket. 

“Of course it is,” she huffed. “Why else would I wear it?”

You hummed low in your throat at her defense but said nothing else as you reached for another onigiri. If you teased her anymore, you knew she’d start spouting nonsense about a pot calling the kettle black, and you didn’t want to have to confront those thoughts yet. After all, Bakugou was just good-smelling asshole who you ate lunch with, nothing more to it.

Instead, you gazed out at the water, watching joggers dart by and children playing a game of tag off to the side. “It’s so peaceful here. You’d never guess anything was wrong.”

Hina nodded in agreement. She swallowed her food, taking her time to collect her thoughts before responding. “I think that’s how it should be; you know? Yeah, we shouldn’t be reckless, but we can’t let the fear of one person force us into hiding. In the end, that just makes him stronger.”

She chucked then, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, it’s one man within the whole of Tokyo city. There’s no way he can be everywhere at once. And with so many heroes around, the odds of something happening to us right now are close to zero.”

The world had a cruel sense of humor. 

The words had no sooner left her lips than a blood-curdling shriek cut across the water. You were on your feet before you had even pinpointed the location of the trouble. Scanning the surroundings, you froze as you saw a small group of people gathered around the playground on the far right of the pond. You began to run towards them, ignoring Hina’s calls from the bench.

A heavy weight sunk into your chest as you finally neared the group, the screaming now replaced with the frantic sobbing of a mother cradling her child to her chest. The girl was twitching violently, her mother using all her strength to keep her from accidentally injuring herself.

“What’s going on?” you gasped out, kneeling down beside the mother. She was hysterical, unable to get out a coherent word. Turning to the crowd, you desperately searched faces for an explanation, but they were in shock, a depressive silence encompassing them. You reached for the child to examine her closer, but the mother flinched away, cradling the girl closer to her chest.

A sharp demand formed on the tip of your tongue, but you repressed it, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation. The mother was beyond reason, and if the situation continued, the girl could sustain irreparable damage before you could help. 

Instead, you took a deep breath, activating your quirk. The scent of lavender began to waft through the air, growing in strength until the stench clung to everyone in your vicinity. Your breath was quickening from the exertion, heart rate picking up pace, but the girl’s tremors had lessened in intensity, and the mother finally began to take steadying breaths.

“She was just running around on the playground when she suddenly collapsed! I don’t know what happened. She was my perfectly healthy baby girl this morning,” she sobbed.

You leaned closer to the girl whose tremors had now finally subsided. You were about to sigh in relief when you noticed a slight foam begin to form at the corner of her mouth. In an instant, you grabbed her and turned her to her side, rubbing her back firmly. She shuddered as she heaved onto the ground, body going slack after emptying the contents of her stomach. However, her breathing had evened out, and you deemed her no longer at risk of choking on her own vomit.

At her peace, the mother once again reached forward, touching her child’s sweaty forehead before gently sweeping her blonde hair off her face. The relief you had felt vaporized in a second as a hard, cold fear replaced it. With shaky fingers, you reached forward until your hand gently cupped her head, tilting it so the sunlight could better illuminate her profile.

There, on the side of her neck, was a small pinprick the size of a needle.

After your discovery, things around you became a blur. You were aware of a voice projecting through a megaphone, the crowd parting, and the rattling of wheels against uneven pavement. You were aware that the girl was no longer in front of you, being wheeled away on the gurney. You were aware of the hushed words of praise thrown your way and the crowd beginning to disperse now that the disaster was over. Yet your heart continued to race in your chest, and you were still frozen in place, a cold sweat breaking out across your body.

“You did so well.”

A warm hand was placed on your shoulder, and the trance was broken. You looked up, giving a shaky smile to Hina as you got to your feet. The decision was a poor one, as your head immediately began to pound at the sudden movement, and you stumbled back a few steps. Hina reached out to steady you, but you waved her off, a wave of embarrassment hitting you now that you realized just how long you had been out of it.

“I hope I did enough. Her breathing evened out in the end, but she was in bad shape.”

You stretched your back, hoping to dispel the tension still coiled within your body. It didn’t work.

“We should probably head back.”

You turned to leave, but a hand caught your wrist. You turned back to Hina, noting the furrow in her brow as she spoke to you. “Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t you want to rest? I know you overused your quirk just now. I’d never smelled lavender so potently before.”

You sighed, shaking your head. You still had an uneasy feeling in the bottom of your gut, but you were sure that it would go away if you just checked on Chargebolt and your other patients. “I think I’ll feel better if I just get back. to work. Make sure everything’s settled, you know?”

Hina squinted at you, and you could tell that she, in fact, didn’t know. Nonetheless, she didn’t press further. Instead, she wordlessly followed you as you made your way back into the hospital and toward the ICU wing, pressing your bento box into your hands before parting ways.

You were standing in front of room 3307 before you realized you had even arrived, your mind still stuck in the park despite your best efforts. However, when you opened the door to the room, you were immediately sucked back into the present as a pair of ruby red eyes stopped you in your place, and the familiar smell of cologne wafted over you. He was in front of you in seconds, stance casual but eyes scanning you from head to toe. You looked at him in a similar manner, noting his hero costume and tousled hair.

“Are you okay?”

“How are you here?”

Your words tumbled together, questions asked at the same time. For once, Bakugou yielded first.

“I came as soon as I heard there was an incident near the hospital. Then the Doc told me that you and your friend were the ones involved, so I decided to wait around, just for curiosity’s sake.”

He smirked as he said it, attempting to bait you into action. All you could do was give him a weary nod in return, watching as his mouth dropped in concern at your lackluster response.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed again, but you dismissed his question with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Bullshit. Your hands are shaking, and your eyes are all glossy, like you’re about to start bawling.”  

You casually clenched your hands into your fists, but you’re sure he noticed under his scrutinizing gaze. To your chagrin, he was also right. Your hands were most definitely trembling. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before responding, but the air got stuck in your throat, and then you were choking.

You gasped for air, but you never seemed to be able to get enough of it. The panic that had been creeping around the periphery of your mind finally descended upon you, and you weren’t sure if the wetness on your cheeks was from your coughs or a final release of all the emotions you had been keeping in control of until now. It felt like your death was inevitable, whether from asphyxiation or from shame. You thought it would never end, your chest overflowing with that feeling of inescapable anxiety morphing into a dark looming presence threatening to consume you. 

Until another force fought back.

You were enveloped in warmth, head pressed against a hard chest and back rubbed by a pair of large hands. His words were hard to distinguish amid the midst of jumbled thoughts, but his breathing was steady. You latched on to it, attempting to copy the rhythmic pattern of breath in, hold, breath out. Eventually, it became easy, and you realized that Bakugou was softly giving you instructions that matched his actions. You stood like that for several moments more, until the weight of your actions caught up to you, and you pushed away, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered. “It’s my stupid quirk. If I overuse it, then I get like, well, like that. I thought I had it under control this time. I wish you didn’t have to see that.”

His arm came forward to touch you again in comfort, but it dropped as though he thought better of it. Instead, he shifted on his feet, letting a small silence fill the room before he broke it with his next words. “Every quirk has its limits. That’s not something to apologize for.”

You still didn’t raise your gaze, so he continued. “And it’s not stupid. It’s incredibly useful. You were able to get a handle on the situation and help save that girl because of it. If anything, it’s one of the most heroic quirks I’ve heard of.”

At this, you give him a skeptical look, to which he grinned. “I’m serious. Being able to calm people down and diffuse a situation is a hell of a lot more useful than a lot of other quirks, like being able to grow sticky balls from the top of your head, yet somehow that idiot became a licensed hero.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at his not-so-subtle jab. “I guess you’re right. Plus, it’s why I wanted to become a doctor, after all. I thought it could help.”

“Damn straight I’m right. I always am,” he preened.  

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Has anyone told you that you’re actually the worst?”  

“Everyday, if I can help it,” he retorted. 

You shook your head, turning away from him, but you had to admit that he had helped, tremendously so. Your chest felt lighter than it had since you first heard the scream in the park, and the overwhelming anxiety and panic was now replaced with a quiet weariness that would hopefully go away after a long sleep.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, yet he said it with such sincerity that you couldn’t help but smile in response.

You nodded, turning your focus to Chargebolt and his chart notes. Unlike the newest victims, he had no further complications besides his unconsciousness. You supposed it was a blessing when compared to the alternative, although you wouldn’t necessarily consider anything about the situation good until he woke up. The toxins were still a mystery, and while nothing was on record, you had overheard that a cure couldn’t be finalized for everyone until the authorities had actually caught the perpetrator himself and taken samples from him. Therefore, it was now a waiting game of which held out longer, the toxins or the Basilisk.

You set down the chart, turning back to Bakugou to let him know the updates, or lack thereof, when a noise halted you in your tracks.  

“Did I die and go to heaven? Because you look like an angel.”

The voice was weak, barely a whisper, but it sent a shock through the room nonetheless. It wasn’t Bakugou who had said that terrible pickup line, and it certainly wasn’t yourself.

You pivoted on your heel so quickly that you almost fell over, gripping the side of the bed for stability. Bakugou was just as fast, appearing at the bedside in an instant. You peered down with your mouth slightly open in awe, and electrifying yellow eyes stared right back at you.

Pro-Hero Chargebolt was awake.

A/N: Thanks for reading and being so understanding about the two-week break! This holiday season has turned out to be super busy, so I apologize about that and also for posting a day late. Also, I know that this chapter has some potentially sensitive content in it, so if you have feedback, please let me know respectfully!

As always, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated, but please do not repost here or on other platforms. However, fan arts, edits, or anything like that are beyond amazing and totally welcome! If you have a question about it, just ask me.

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If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments! Also, if the tag list DIDN'T work, please let me know as well.

[wandamaxim0f]

Brian 'Otis' Zvonecek one-shot — Peace

Words: 1.2k

Otis x Female reader

TW: the tiniest bit of angst and lots of fluff! Also: pregnancy, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks

A/N: finally dared to post this one! I really like how it ended up, but please keep in mind english is not my first language so there may be some mistakes. I wrote this one with Peace by Taylor Swift in mind, enjoy!

Taglist: @winchesterszvonecek

And you know that I'd (...) give you my wild, give you a child

Your hands were shaking as you went to grab your cup of freshly brewed tea, the chamomile smell soothing you before you could even take a sip. You did your best to focus on the way the tea tasted, and how the warmth went through your mouth and down your throat, really trying to keep yourself grounded and not give into the panic attack that you felt around the corner.

Silly panic attack. You felt the clink of your wedding band against the beige cup. Your wedding ring, of all things. You two were married, and had been for almost a full year. Turning your head, you found the fridge with all of its magnets and notes. Some were sweet and loving, both in your handwriting and his, knowing some days one left for shift without seeing the other.

“I love you”; “Stay safe”; “Come home to me” were some of the messages the both of you had left, a reminder you had someone waiting for you after your shift at the Intelligence Unit, and he had someone waiting for him after his shift at firehouse 51.

A photo from your wedding day caught your eye. You two were married. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't step back. He had literally signed up for this. He had scribbled down his signature on a paper that was securely put away on a folder full of important documents, and he had vowed to love you until death do you part.

The door opening startled you, even when you had woken up early to talk to him. Not that you could really sleep, anxiety keeping you awake and turning and tossing in the bed sheets; the smell that came from his shirt that you were wearing doing nothing to calm down your mind.

“Baby” called Otis, as soon as he closed the door and saw you sitting down at the kitchen island. He knew something was going on. Usually, on your days off, he would just get home and find you asleep in bed, not drinking tea in the kitchen.

Immediately, he dropped his bag and his arms found your figure, pulling you into his warm embrace and stepping in between your legs, holding you to his chest as his hands caressed your back in the way only he knew how.

“Are you okay?” he asked, already knowing you weren’t, by the way you clung to him, embracing his body with your arms and legs, and let out a shaky breath against his chest. Still, he gave you the choice to not speak about what had you up on your day off, not until you were ready.

You split from his hug, knowing you wouldn't speak if you found refuge between his strong arms. “We need to talk” you said, finding his now worried brown eyes.

Otis swallowed audibly, and a neutral expression took over his face, trying to hide the fact he was terrified. Were you going to leave him? Was your marriage over? Or did it still stand a chance? Had he messed up? Forgotten a date? Forgotten your birthday? Valentine's? Anniversary? He quickly crossed those options, your anniversary was still a month away, he already had the reservations for the weekend getaway done, and your birthday had been three months ago, he had gotten you that necklace you liked. And February was still away, so there was no chance he had forgotten Valentine’s.

“I’m sorry” he blurted out, his heart shattering at the idea of letting you down, of disappointing you “I don’t know what I did, but I will make it up to you. Please don’t leave me” he was not above begging, not when it may make the difference between you staying in his life or giving up on your marriage. Not when you were the single best thing that had ever happened to him.

Your heart melted into your chest, and tears gathered in your eyes. His forced neutral expression switched into a worried one when a tear escaped your right eye, and his thumb was quick to catch it. Whatever it was, it could not be good if you were this distraught. He had seen you in some of your worst moments, and he could count on one hand the times he had witnessed such distress in your pretty eyes.

“Babe?” he called, preparing himself to beg you to talk to him if it came down to it. You were worried, and he wanted, he needed to help you out.

“I’m pregnant” you whispered, your voice so low, Otis thought he had misheard you.

“You... what?” He exhaled, trying as hard to not let his hand find your lower abdomen, since he wasn’t sure you were happy.

Sure, the two of you had discussed starting a family, but that conversation had been held ages ago, at the early stages of your relationship. He remembered you saying you wanted to have kids, and how that was a deal breaker to you; and he remembered getting home and pestering Joe about how he had found the one.

Had you not seen his small smile, you would've freaked out. But he was smiling, and his eyes were shining with tears, so that was a good sign, right?

“I’m pregnant” you repeated, louder this time, and allowing your own hand to find your nonexistent bump.

Otis let out a high pitched scream, before hugging you tightly. His arms pulled you closer and out of the kitchen stool, picking you up and spinning you around the living area, excitement washing over him. Finally, he put you down, and his hands cradled your face, whipping away any tears.

“We’re having a baby” he whispered, happiness dripping from his words, before he started peppering your face with kisses.

“We’re having a baby” you repeated, giggling at his affection, your hands now holding his biceps.

You couldn’t understand how you could’ve been that panicked, your husband wanted desperately to be a father, but only with you. Now you let yourself feel the happiness that you had put away on a cage in your heart, and the world felt more colorful than ever.

The next morning, as you untangled from your still asleep husband, you made your way to the kitchen to get some breakfast. A new note on the fridge caught your eye, and butterflies came alive in your stomach.

Last night, Otis and you had sat down and tried to guess an estimated date in which your baby would join you, a date he had scribbled down on a piece of paper before adding “Best day ever”. Next to it, a note he must've put up while you headed towards the bedroom “Get on desk duty”.

Years ago, the idea of desk duty would’ve killed you, hating the idea of being away from the action and the adrenaline it provided, but now you were beyond happy to spend your whole day at the district.

“You two were leaving without saying goodbye?” Otis’s sleepy voice called out as he walked into the kitchen. Without saying another word, he sank to his knees and kissed your abdomen “Leaving without saying goodbye to your dad is actually kind of rude. Guess your momma and I will have to teach you some manners once you’re out of there, bub” he spoke, his hands firm on your hips.

You laughed, a hand coming to caress his hair, and he looked at you with nothing but adoration and love shining in his eyes. How could you have been so worried? You would be okay. The three of you would be okay.

[lovealexhunt]

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. I shared some suicide prevention resources here, but I wanted to add one more.

How are you?

It's a simple question. We're probably asked it numerous times a day. But how often do we answer it? Truly answer it. Not with a passing statement like I'm good, but with an honest answer, I'm struggling, but I'm trying.

Today alone, I can think of at least 5 occasions where I answered "I'm fine", "all good", "just tired". But none of that is true. I'm not fine. The truth is the past week has been extremely challenging and overwhelming. I'm not fine. I'm not okay. I am tired, but it's not a physical tired. It's deeper. I'm exhausted. And, I imagine I'm not alone and that there are many people who can relate to this.

Why do we as a society ask the question "How are you?" when the acceptable answer is not necessarily true. Why are we trained early in life that we should say "I'm fine" if we're not. Why do we feel like a burden if we answer honestly? Or that we'll be judged or treated differently?

So many people who struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts hide their truth with a fake smile and "I'm fine". But they shouldn't have to. You are not a burden. There is nothing wrong with you. Being vulnerable does not make you weak. Being honest, telling your truth takes so much courage.

How can we help prevent suicide? We can start really simply. We can ask one question. Not just how are you, but, How are you really? and then wait and listen. Creating that safe space to allow someone a moment to share can make all the difference.

So, how are you really? I'd love to know! Feel free to reply in the comments, reblogs, or send an ask, or dm if you'd like!

[jolapeno]

anyone else just climb into bed with a quiet brain, and then the lamp gets turned off and the brain demons come out to play. all ‘why did you say this’, ‘remember that thing from three years ago, yeah you were terrible’ and ‘you didn’t do this, stupid’—like can’t we pick up this failure mentality in the morning, like damn?

[autumnblooms]

You’ll be alright

Still not over anxiety ridden Mountain - in reference to this post

[incompleteninny]

The sixty-seventh free, unedited chapter of my upcoming book, “The Heist at Cordia Aquarium” is now available on its website (or click here to read from the beginning).

It's dark. Cramped and humid and hot. Thea tightens her arms around her knees; each breath comes rough. Haggard. Harsh against her throat, dry and raw as it is.

It's my fault. I could have said something; I could have stayed out of this and let them find someone better. Then Ivan could become a wrestler; Waylon could help whoever it was that needs him. But no, I'm selfish. I took everything from them.

Her thoughts bounce around inside her head, repeating — never-ending. Those that she escapes just add to the weight of the air around her. Floating at the edge of her perception, like specters waiting for another turn to haunt her.

She presses her head into her knees and she wretches. A dry, tearless sound — just as it's been for a while now. How long am I going to sit here, useless?

[...]