#Fandom Panic

[worrynoodle]

I really wish @amazon @primevideo would just simply announce something official and put us out of our misery.

And I'm saying this because of all the speculation and rumors going around. The imdb update, that graphic designer's tweets, etc. Obviously *something* is going on. I just really wish they'd let us know instead of all this panic and anxiety.

I am not going to believe anything until it comes straight from the horses mouth. I have to save myself the anxiety, that's not what fandom is for.

Protect your mental health and know nothing is certain right now and that can be a good thing!

[jekkahfanfiction2-blog]

I have to say that all these lukola/non-lukola panics have given me interest in places I'ver never thought about before. Malta looks fun. So does San Nicolo.

[worrynoodle]

Thank you! Like there's no reason for this to end badly???

I think at least 75% of Good Omens season 3 (ending) angst would simply evaporate if people just managed to remember that Good Omens is a comedy.

Not a drama, not a tragedy, not a tragic-comedy, not a social commentary, not a thriller or a mystery or a serious fantasy adventure, but a (fantasy) comedy.

[n00tuz]

I’m never leaving the tmnt fandom btw just checking:3

[willthespy]

i forgot how annoying drawing on a phone is

anyway have some solangelo

[my-castles-crumbling]

bounce - December 8th - pre-wolfstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 255

Remus was getting desperate. All of the boys around him were starting to talk about girls. Which girls they liked, which girls were the prettiest, which girls they snogged and which girls wanted to snog them.

Meanwhile, he felt nothing.

He didn't want to admit what it meant. That he spent much more time staring at Sirius Black than he ever did looking at any girl in his year.

So instead of thinking too much about those feelings, he went to Sirius, himself. Because all of the girls talked about Sirius, so he must know something that Remus didn't.

"What do you like about girls?" he asked him one day, the words falling from his lips so quickly they almost twisted in his mouth.

Sirius looked at him like he'd sprouted two extra heads. "What do I like about...?"

"Girls, yeah," Remus repeated awkwardly. "You snog girls, right?"

"Yeah," Sirius nodded, frowning. "Once or twice. Erm...sometimes their hair does this..." he made a bouncing movement with his hand that caused Remus to pinch his eyebrows in confusion.

"Right. And...kissing them. Is it nice?" he asked, still very nervous.

"It's alright," Sirius shrugged. "What do you like about them, then?"

"They....they have hands.." Remus floundered, trying to find a way to explain that girls had hands that were a bit daintier and he supposed that was okay.

Sirius nodded emphatically. "Yes. Hands."

They both nodded, eyes wide, staring at each other.

It didn't occur to him that maybe Sirius was just as confused as he was.

[harrowharksboner]

leaked caitlyn reaction from the extended cut. totally legit

[alastor-simp]

Panic Attack😰 - Alastor x Female Reader

📻Pairings- Alastor X Female Reader

📻Genre- Comfort and Fluff

📻Tags- Panic Attack, Alastor Comforts Reader, Anxiety Attack, Comfort, Alastor is not used to stuff like this, Alastor tries his best, Fluff, Hugs, Episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel Series

📻Notes- Sorry for the lack of Alastor x Reader stories, been busy with work also wanted to write for my other favorite fandoms like Twisted Wonderland and Love and Deep space. Hope you guys like this chapter.

📻Credit- Divider by @wetandtiny

**Key- [ ] indicates the inner thoughts the reader is having, so you don't get confused**

["Loud, Loud, ITS TOO LOUD!!!!!"] Your thoughts spiraled out of control, as you sat in the corner, voices muffled coming from other parts of the room. Charlie and the others were watching the TV, eyes widen in shock at seeing the news broadcast, showcasing the recent update to the changes to the next extermination, arriving in 6 months instead of a full year. Everyone's voice sprung out, some in anger and others in shock, minus Alastors, watching the whole ordeal with a smile on his face. Oh how he delighted seeing the utter panic in everyone's eyes, until his eyes snapped to yours, those feelings of glee drawing to a massive halt, oh dear.

The pupils in your eyes had dilated, tears starting to form. Your breathing was painful, almost like someone was suffocating you. Claws scratched at your chest, wanting the tightness to disappear. Your head felt like it was underwater, everything sounding muffled, yet only the voice in your head was clear. ["Why? Why is this happening? You had found sanctuary here when you arrived in Hell, having missed the recent extermination, feeling somewhat at ease that it was only going to come happened again next year, and now? Now its going to come again in 176 days!!! No NO!!].

Body shaking, you continued to claw against your chest, breaking the skin, blood coating your fingers. You needed to get away, away from everyone, they don't need to see you like this. Getting up with shaky legs, you slowly walked away from everyone as they continued to talk about what had just happened. The fact you could even move was shocking, considering how much you were shaking, as you still felt like your body was begging for air, lungs constricting with every step you took. Multiple voices spoke inside your mind, swirling around like a tornado, as you hurried to your room. A black portal had opened up in front of you, not spotting it as your vision was fading in and out, as your body fell into it, letting out a scream.

One second you were in the hallway and the next you were in a forest, surrounded by large trees and a massive river flowing. "W-what?" You could barely speak as you tried to figure out where the heck you were. "Ahh the little darling has arrived." A static voice called out from behind you, making you turn around, seeing Alastor walking towards you, hands behind his back. "A-Al? W-w." You whispered, hand clutching your chest even tighter, causing Al's eyes to narrow. "Well, my dear, I noticed your predicament in the lobby and decided to bring you to my room, preferably away from the other residents."

His mouth was moving, but you could barely pick up what he was saying as the dreading feeling was getting worse, causing you to drop to your knees. Alastor had not predicted this, eyes widen in shock having seen you fall to the ground, as he rushed over, getting on his knees, "Darling! Are you alright?" He placed his hands on your shoulder, peering down at you, observing you take gasping breaths, hands clutching your chest to the point your knuckles turned white. "It...it hurts. I-I can't breathe." Gasping out, you clutched your eyes shut, heart beating out of your chest. Alastor, for the first time, didn't know what his next move should be, he had hoped the ambience of his room would be enough to calm you down, but it apparently was ineffective. His hands continued to rub at your shoulders, hoping that would work, but you remained the same.

The smile on his face had almost dropped, for he was actually beginning to worry about your well-being, something that stunned him and irked him. He was not one to provide comfort to someone, but the sight of you was making his black heart clench. Moving his arms from your shoulders, he had position them to your head, pushing it down, allowing your head to hit his chest. Letting out a gasp, you didn't expect Alastor to do that, opening your mouth to say something, until your ears picked up on the soft sound coming from the radio demon. It was muffled, but there was a soft beating sound coming from his chest, laced with a bit of static due to his nature, "Bumbum.....bumbum......bumbum." Alastor remained silent, clawed hand rubbing your head softly, while the other went to your back, holding you closer.

Little by little, the suffocating feeling was diminishing, the loud voices slowly going away, allowing to focus more on his static heartbeat. Your lungs became lest restricted, finally able to breath as you took in a few deep breaths. You pushed your head closer towards his chest, nuzzling into the warm soothing feeling he was giving you. "Shhhh...its alright now, my dear." His voice was soft, no hint of static, as he continued to hold you. After a couple minutes, you slowly removed your head from his chest, looking up at him smiling, eyes still watery from your crying, "Thank you, Alastor." His crimson eyes were warm as he pulled away, yet he kept his hand on your back, keeping you steady. "Seeing that you now have a smile on your face, I presume you have managed to calm down." Alastor continued to observe you, noticing the blood scratches on your chest, due to you scratching it during your episode. Placing his hand on your chest, he whispered some voodoo chant, as he soon removed it, wounds fully healed.

Noticing what he did, you widened your eyes, muttering another thank you. Tilting his head, Alastor asked as to what had happened to cause such a reaction. Looking down, you began to explain everything, "I..I had just arrived here, having met all of you and developed close friendships. The extermination being the last thing on my mind, and now that whole announcement." Your hand grasped his own, rubbing it gently "I just...thought about losing this, losing everyone, you....it just....everything began to bubble up and it just felt like too much that I had that attack. I'm sorry that you had to go out of your comfort zone to help me." Alastor sat there, listening calmly, a bit shocked that you had that episode due to your fear of the exterminators and losing him? Part of him wanted to laugh boisterously, yet he didn't.

His hands went to your cheeks, rubbing them affectionately. "It is quite alright, my dear. But, there is no need to worry about that now. That day is still far out, so there will be time to prepare. And as for losing everyone as well as me, that will never come to pass. I swore to offer my services here, and that includes protecting this hotel and all of you." His voice was laced with honey, as he continued to rub your cheeks, like a parent would to a child. "However, if there is ever a time that you are suffering from this again, please seek me out or call my name. Placing your hands on top of his, caressing them, your lips drew up into a kind smile, "Okay."

The two of you stay like that, until you looked away, focusing back on where you were. "This is your room?" Alastor brightened up at you mentioning it, smile expanding, "Ah yes! During my youth, I had always admired the bayous in my hometown. I often times when there to calm me down after an eventful day. I assumed bringing you here would offer the same assurance that it gave me." Your heart picked up at that statement, seeing as how he almost never showed this side of himself to anyone, and he had offered to show it to you, evening mentioning his past, which he NEVER revealed to anyone. "I think I was too far into my attack to realize what was going on, sorry. Since we are here now, mind showing me around this part of your room, does it continue forever or?"

Chuckling at your questions, Alastor stood back up, hand grasping yours to lift you up. "It goes as far as I want it to. Let's take a little stroll, my dear." Hooking his arm with yours, he led you further into his dimensional room, allowing the two of you to explore, enjoying each others company, the panic attack being a thing of the past.

-END-

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink

[loubella77]

[jolapeno]

in, and out

francisco “frankie” morales x f!reader

summary: battling a rising panic attack in a crowded space, she is anchored only by the steady presence of the man who refuses to let her slip away.

wc: 1.3k

warnings: panic attack/anxiety attack. calmness. gentle!frankie.

an: I don’t usually post things longer than 1k on here anymore, but this felt like something I wanted and needed to cross post. this won’t be for everyone, but if it brings comfort to even one person it’s done its job. I don’t share too much of my daily struggles but the other day visiting the Louvre I had a really bad panic attack. I had my friend there, she was great and amazing and I’m doing as okay as one can be in a panic attack hangover. but this was the outcome of it, and I wanted to share. for as broken as we may feel in those moments, I promise you we’re stronger than we think.

READ ON AO3

Shallow, quick. Breath slipping in, slipping out—too fast, too sharp.

She blinks back tears as sweat beads at her temple, her chest too tight, too small, ribs pressing in. Lungs barely keeping up.

But she smiles. Stands tall. Keeps moving. The crowd presses around her, bodies shifting, shoulders finding hers, a blur of sound and movement, and she refuses to fold. Refuses to give in.

Yet, she’s shaking. Hands clenched. Heart hammering so hard it threatens to crack through her ribs, raw and red and beating, spilling onto the stone floor. Her knees want to follow. To buckle. To crash and become dust. She sways, a gust of movement knocking her sideways, and then—coolness. A reprieve. The brush of air against her cheek, the ground steady beneath her feet, and yet—

Her top, once effortless, now suffocates. Fabric clings, cinches. Digging into the bend of her elbows, the curve of her ribs. The raincoat, meant for the downpour, only smothers. The heat unbearable. The air thick, pressing in. Sweat pools at the small of her back, slipping beneath the band of her jeans, damp and cloying.

Too much. Too much noise, too many bodies, too many faces shifting past, and his—his, somewhere in the distance. The back of his head, no hat, not allowed, showcasing the familiar curl of brown, a thread of silver catching the light. His back broad, strong shoulders she wishes she could grip onto are just out of reach. Too far, too far—

“Baby.”

Not a question. A tether.

A hand, firm at her arm, another at her jaw. Suddenly in front of her, tilting her up, steering her away. She finds brown, deep and steady, a breath catching in her throat. Her feet follow his lead, until her spine meets stone, a solid press grounding her, a barrier at her back.

“Breathe for me.”

She tries. Nails curling into his sleeve, digging through layers—fabric, then skin, then something solid, something real. Him.

“In, and out.”

She nods, but it’s hard. Hard to slow, hard to catch the breath that keeps slipping away, hard to keep the panic from swallowing her whole. A sob catches, breaks apart—small, sharp. Her cheeks are wet. Her chest burns.

But his voice is steady. His hands are warm. And she breathes.

Not well, not fully, but enough. A stuttering inhale, shallow and sharp, ribs trembling with the effort. Eyes locked on his, on the unwavering brown, the flicker of something steady in them—something anchoring. His eyes watch her, tracking the rise and fall of her chest as her nails dig deeper, a silent plea. Don’t let go.

“Slower,” he murmurs.

Close, too close, or maybe not close enough. The crowd shifts around them, a tide of movement and noise, but his hands don’t move. His voice doesn’t waver. His gaze not leaving hers for a second.

She hears him swallow, worry dotted in his eyes.

“You’re alright.”

She doesn’t believe him yet. Can’t.

The air is still thick, still pressing in, still clawing at her throat, but his thumb brushes her cheek, wipes something wet away, and she focuses on that. On the warmth of his palm against her jaw. On the solid weight of his arm beneath her grip.

“In, and out, baby,” he reminds, her breath slowing just like he says. “That’s it, there you go.”

The wall behind her is cool, grounding, the stone seeping through layers of fabric. Her shoulder blades press against it, her head tips back, and she gasps through the tightness in her ribs.

His hand moves, fingers brushing down, slipping around the back of her neck, thumb pressing lightly into the curve where her pulse races wild beneath the skin. His other takes her hand, presses it to his heart—flattens it, forces his pulse against her palm.

“Feel that?” Soft, steady, coaxing.

Eyes clenching shut, fresh tears raining down her cheeks, she nods. “I-I’m s-sorry.”

“Shh, none of that, baby. Keep breathing for me.”

She swallows hard, forces the lump down, even as her chest shudders. Her fingers unfurl, just slightly, the ache in them easing. Frankie adjusts his stance, not allowing her to tip, be exposed. His coat is rough against the edge of her hand, the sweater beneath softer, worn-in and warm. A thread of comfort in the chaos.

Another inhale. A little deeper this time.

The air still feels heavy, but he’s speaking again, voice low, something familiar in the cadence of it. Maybe a story. Maybe nothing at all, just words to fill the space, to keep her tethered.

She listens. Feels. Holds on.

And breathes.

“Do you want to go?”

She shakes her head, tears blurring her vision when she opens them—it almost sealing her lashes together. No, she thinks, shouts—if only in her mind.

“We can. I don’t m—“

“No, Frankie. I’ll b-be fine. Can c-continue.”

His brow creases, just slightly. Barely a flicker, a ghost of concern tightening the corners of his eyes. She can feel it in the way his hand stays firm against her back, in the way his thumb still moves in slow, grounding strokes against the nape of her neck.

“You sure?” Low, careful, a thread of hesitation woven through the words. Not doubt, not disbelief—just him, making sure.

She nods, shaky but certain.

Even if the crowd hasn’t thinned, even if the space around them is still tight, bodies shifting, voices layered over one another, she can’t let him down. Not him, especially. She lets down so many, makes things awkward. Breaks them. Fails. So she can’t do it to him too.

Frankie who is kind, gentle. Who is solid in front of her. A barrier between her and the worst of it. Protective. Willing to do anything and everything. His fingers squeeze gently over hers where they rest against his chest, pressing her palm tighter, as if willing it to steady hers.

She exhales, eyes slipping shut for a moment. It’s still there—that awful, raw tightness in her ribs, the heaviness in her limbs—but she’s here. Upright. Not on the floor. There’s no spit up on her dress, no dizziness that makes her wish to curl up—she hasn’t embarrassed him. Not yet, anywah. Not yet, not yet, not yet.

His thumb brushes away another tear before it has the chance to fall.

“Alright,” he says, softer now. “We go when you’re ready.”

She nods again, swallowing past the last tremor in her throat, breath still uneven but no longer unravelling.

A deep inhale.

A deeper exhale.

And then—her fingers squeeze his.

A wordless answer.

He doesn’t let go. Just shifts, just turns slightly, keeping himself between her and the swell of movement as they step forward together, slow and steady. The air still thick, the weight of it pressing against her skin, but his touch is there. His voice, low in her ear, asking if she’s alright.

And she thinks she will be.

Not perfect, not fully there yet—but will be.

She hopes. Prays.

Curling into him at the next knock of a shoulder, flinching, wanting to scream. It rises up in her like a storm, electric, thick and powerful. It claws at her throat as it wishes to explode, rip from her, be free.

She swallows it, smiles. Forces it, paints it with the same forcible paint strokes as the brushes that painted the art around them.

I want to go, she thinks. I want to leave. But she looks at him, sees his eyes lit up at something as her mouth opens to speak it.

“Fancy some fries and a burger, baby?”

It’s light, his tone. Not full of judgement or anger, no hint of disappointment.

Her head turns to see the noticeable Golden Arches through the glass of the museum. Windows rain speckled, trying to blur lights and traffic. She smiles, for real, not forced or spread on like lip balm.

“Yeah. Food’ll be nice.”

“Come on then.”

[worrynoodle]

My fellow Omenians

I am begging you to pause. Take some deep breaths. And I mean this so so seriously.

We, here on tumblr, don't know anything beyond rumors and speculation. A lot of he said she said stuff that hasn't been verifiably confirmed by anyone actually *in charge* of production.

Even the "production pause" is just a rumor because amazon hasn't released ANY official statements about it.

I know, I know we all care so deeply for this show, it's characters and the meaning it brings us. I know that. But buying into rumors and borrowing trouble from the future isn't constructive whatsoever.

So here's what you're going to do:

First - breathe. Take some anxiety breaths, put on some music, do some chores whatever relaxes you.

Then - participate in the parts of fandom that bring you JOY! That's what it's all about. Go through your likes, follows, reblogs, even if they're old and repost em. Get back into the fun stuff and boost that.

Go create MORE! Use this passion to show Amazon what we do want. But all in all I'm sure they're aware. They will do what they will do. We can't always control it but we can POLITELY let them know.

Be safe, have fun

[villainboygirl]

THE GAY PANIC

[pokedash55]

I don't know how psychologically sound this is but I had fun thinking about how Anxiety and Fear working together would actually be hell for Riley.

[gleafer]

Psst! Things are getting insane on my Patreon!

For the cost of one small McFlurry a month (what? You don’t get a McFlurry every first Monday of the month??) you can see why Crowley is panicking with the flop sweats to the point of forgetting he has a car!

[do2faj]

You've been playin' around with magic that is black.

[krakot2]

💥💥💥