#PANIC ATTACKS

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[desultory-suggestions]

If you are doom scrolling, do me a little favor. Take a big deep breathe. Take two more. Look up and at your surroundings. Pay attention to the light, the objects, the sounds. You are here in this moment. The infinite world accessible through your phone is simply too much for your mind to handle all the time. You deserve peace of mind and soul. Bring yourself back to the present, and set your phone down.

[goldenjuniper]

hold on to each other

[autiebiographical]

Listening to my brain usually brings me to similar conclusions.

[furiousgoldfish]

Traumatized people are often advised to 'keep it under control' and 'find a way to contain it', and I always felt it was a fault of mine, if I freak out, or panic, or have an anxiety attack, or can't stop shaking or shivering. Now that I no longer have extreme bouts of panic, I'm starting to understand how much fear, panic and pain I contain within myself every day.

If I'm in a place that makes me anxious, I stay still, I do nothing. If I'm panicking, I will modify my behavior to the point where nobody around me will be able to see and realize that I'm panicking, I will seem happy, and pleasing. If I'm experiencing intense rage or frustration, I will shut down and won't respond or interact with anyone until I figure out what is a reasonable and logical thing to do. I am containing everything, constantly. And it's only a part of what I've been containing and keeping under control, I used to contain terror every day. I am used to circumstances where I had to act normal under threat of violence, threat to my life, every single day. I had to walk around like nothing is wrong while I was dissociating so heavily I couldn't tell if the world was even real. I was blaming myself if there was a momentary lapse of control, if the panic I was containing for months leaked out of me a little. The thought of not being able to keep it down terrified me.

I blamed myself for not being able to keep mountains of fear, grief, anger and panic under a guise, which a human being is not supposed to do. Our reactions of fear, panic and rage are there in order to point out that something is deeply wrong, that we're unsafe, that our circumstances need to change and we need safety, now. Keeping that shit contained and controlled is trying to bypass human instincts, fighting against human nature, and I did that, we all did that, because it was the only thing we were ever told to do with it. We'd be punished for anything else, threatened for any other kind of response that isn't containing and keeping it down.

And now when keeping it down is no longer humanely possible, because we did it for so long we wore our entire spirits down, now we get told we need to do more of it? More of pretense that things are fine, more of guilt and shame for not managing to be a closed human container of panic and pain? We were never supposed to keep that much in. Keeping all that inside and learning to control myself taught me to be what I am right now, keeping any inconvenient emotion down only so I could break down in private, or try to keep it down indefinitely, because I don't know any other way to live anymore. Fighting against my own instincts and fawning at others is just who I am now, and it's not who I'm supposed to be. Panic is supposed to be loud and alarming, pain is supposed to be heard, people are supposed to react with offering safety and change of circumstances that led to this. Not telling the scared, pained and panicked people to 'keep it down'.

[kades-whump-stuff]

recovering Whumpee prompts

Whumpee who NEEDS to see everything around them. They will not let anyone, even Caretaker, walk behind them, they sit or stand with their back to a wall if possible. They're always looking behind them, constantly expecting Whumper there, even if it's just subconsciously.

Whumpee who makes themself as small as possible. They know their posture is taking a hit, but they draw in all of their limbs and hunch over in an attempt to be as small as possible. They're most comfortable this way.

Whumpee who has periods of time where they lose speech - partially or totally. During these, if they want or need something, they find it difficult or impossible to ask for it, and god forbid someone ask them about Whumper.

Whumpee who dissociates - their eyes grow unfocused at times and they always look confused or lost. They mindlessly follow Caretaker wherever they go, even when they're completely out of it.

Whumpee who has lost touch with their own self and feelings, and who notices that their breathing and heartbeat are speeding up. They notice their symptoms of having, say, a panic attack, too late to stop the effects.

Whumpee who has to be their own caretaker, whether that means stitching up their own wounds while biting on their wallet, or forcing themself up and out of bed in the morning.

[oatmealdaydreams]

Thinking about Fiddlestan but with Fiddleford struggling with an amnesia episode and Stan helping him out.

Major hurt/comfort, plenty of angst implications of what damage the memory gun does to Fiddleford, and plenty of comfort via 1980s Fiddlestan (bc I say so). Let's say Fiddleford is struggling through an episode where he forgets who Stan is, forgets what the shack/Mystery Shack is, and has a panic. He struggles with massive anxiety on a daily basis, because, y'know, I'm projecting, and so him having panic attacks isn't a new thing. So this is a very fucked-up episode Fiddleford is going through, and once he's out of it and back to the present and such, he feels so bad about the fact that he forgot Stan. He cries, he pleads, he's so sorry, he didn't mean to forget him, please don't leave--

And then Stan is there, a steady presence, helping him calm down because he can't blame Fiddleford for having fucked-up memory problems. He can't blame him for feeling so scared and unsafe that he felt a literal memory gun was the only way to cope. He can't ever blame Fiddleford for what he went through, especially since it's not his fault that he experienced terrifying things.

So, Stan helps him breathe, calms him down, and they rest on the couch together. He reassures Fiddleford that he's not going anywhere, it's not his fault that he forgets people sometimes, he doesn't have anything to apologize for, it's okay, why not watch some weird knock-off TV shows that only Gravity Falls has as a nice distraction? Maybe he can talk about how dumb some of the sci-fi shit is or how inaccurate the portrayals of Southern folk are in popular media.

And, yeah, hurt/comfort with an amnesiac Fiddleford. Bc I say so.

[xiaq]

One of the terrible things about anxiety is that sometimes your body gets confused about what is an Anxiety Situation and what is not.

Exhibit a: B and I were having a pre-bed wrestle-fight (not a euphemism) and we were both laughing so hard we were gasping for breath. Except all the sudden my body went “Oh?? Can’t breathe?? Not to worry, we know just what to do. It is Panic Attack O’Clock.”

And my poor husband had to shift from Silly Fun Time to Oh No, My Wife is Dying in about 5 seconds flat.

Ridiculous.

[randombrowngirl]

Poolside

[silverskye13]

for the hurt comfort promt thingy: Helsknight or/and Tanguish suffering from the aches of living (getting sick, having a migraine, panic attack, painful cramps, etc) and enjoying the others company whilst suffering.

It hits at odd times, but once, before every match, inevitably, Helsknight has a panic attack. The funny thing was, he never really knew that's what they were for the longest time. There was a disconnect between his mind and the reactions of his body. He would think about the match. He would think about losing. He would think about how that could come about, what would most likely happen. All the terrible little scenarios. It probably started as something more productive, running bad cases through his head and trying to imagine ways to counter them. Then the shakes would start. And the buzzing in his ears. The sudden, blinding desire to break something, or pace in circles. The inability to move to vent the reckless energy.

The sudden, piercing silence of mind; the resounding, thoughtless emotion of danger.

This one happened at another odd time. A quiet time. A time he should have been at peace, but wasn't. He was sitting in his cell, writing. Carding through words and phrases. Not a speech, just possible rebuttals for Red, when they inevitably shouted their grievances across the sand.

The thought struck him: [Would he say something if he was wounded? Dying, maybe, if he could feel that coming? Should he prepare something for that?]

Helsknight scratched a few quick tally marks on the page, doodling neat rows of lines as he tried to think of something worthwhile to say, in the event Red got the upperhand.

The thought struck him: [What would it look like if Red won?]

Helsknight was a vicious fighter, confident in his skills, and EB had engrained in him the necessity of fighting dirty. Not dishonorably -- no kicking sensitive places or punching stab wounds. But sometimes one had to give in to the necessity of ugly violence for survival's sake. Biting, clawing, wrestling.

Red would have to disarm him somehow. If Helsknight had a weapon in his hand, he would find a reason to fight. Once, he killed a rampaging hoglin with just the broken half of his sword. Granted, it had [thankfully] shattered with a sharp end, so it was mostly an unwieldy dagger, but still. It hadn't been a real weapon anymore, and Helsknight had used it.

So, disarmed. Maybe literally. There were a lot of things Helsknight could fight through, but dismemberment was one of those he didn't like his chances against. Losing a hand in the Colosseum had a way of halting the momentum of a fight quickly. Helsknight did not think he would just lay down and die though. Probably Red would stand over him with that massive ax -- Helsknight could see it in his mind's eye, the way Red squared up to people like they were a tree he was proud to fell.

[Red never aimed for the neck. He thought beheadings were cruel, given necks were thicker and more tenacious than most people gave them credit for, and blades had difficulty when bones needed severed. It would be a swing that came for major veins and arteries. His shoulders. His chest. His legs.]

There would be a lot of blood. There might be less blood, if Martyn was still up when it happened. He would spare Red the kill, and his knives were keen and his aim was good. The throat, the eyes, up beneath the ribs, if he could find a parting in Helsknight's armor. And then...

... Nothing.

Respawn, maybe.

Or. Maybe not.

[What would it feel like, when he went back to Wels?]

It would feel like... Nothing. Because there would be nothing left of him to feel. It would be dark. It would be quiet. Logically, it would be like sleep. Timeless nothing, with no dreams and no waking and...

Nothing.

The End of Everything.

It was silly to be afraid. He could not feel fear in oblivion. There would be nothing left of him that could feel fear.

[What would Nothing feel like?]

[Nothing.]

[It would...

[it......

[

[

"Helsknight?"

Helsknight blinked. And he blinked again. His eyes felt dry and itchy, like he was staring too long. His notebook was still open to a half-written page.

His mind was watching an ax swing.

Tanguish's weight was suddenly on his shoulder, arms crossed, looking over at his work. The touch reminded Helsknight, in no uncertain terms, where he was. Not on the sand. Not on the broad end of an ax head. He was in his cell, writing, and Tanguish was here.

"You've been staring for a while," Tanguish observed, his voice quiet and close. He had a habit of talking softly into prolonged silence, like he was afraid of trespassing on someone else's thoughts. The rise and fall of his chest against Helsknight's back reminded Helsknight to regulate his breathing. One deep inhalation after another.

"Do you not like what you've written?" Tanguish persisted.

"No," Helsknight answered, his voice hoarse and strangled in a throat constricted with baseless fear. "I don't like it."

Tanguish watched him, a frown twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Are you alright?"

Helsknight cleared his throat uncomfortably. He felt... Shaky. The need to shiver crawled up his back, and he had to set his jaw to stifle it.

He realized his jaw hurt. Had he been grinding his teeth?

"I'm." [He could not lie.] [He could not admit he was panicking over nothing.] [He didn't want to talk, when nausea suddenly made any emotion leaving his mouth a perilous task.] "Having a hard time coming up with things to say."

His quill was still in his hand. The last few tally marks he has traced on the margins of his page were noticeably jittery. Trying to pick them out from the crowd suddenly had all the little lines blurring together, dancing over top of each other. His heartbeat was too fast beneath his breathing, and he could feel every beat like they were done with intention, like if he stopped thinking about it, the muscle would slow to a stop like any other unused limb. His fingers twitched.

"Have you tried rereading your old work?" Tanguish suggested helpfully, he leaned forward on Helsknight's shoulders, reaching over to the book and turning to a random page nearer the front. "You probably have a dozen good lines here you've forgotten about."

The page Tanguish had opened to was a poem, written a few weeks ago when Helsknight had been idle. He let out a breath, cold against the back of Helsknight's neck, delighted.

"Is that one new?"

"New-ish."

"Can I read it?"

Helsknight laid his fingertips flat against the desk, trying to calm the shudder in his hands. If Tanguish noticed, he didn't say anything.

"It's best if read aloud," Helsknight said, because he realized, somewhere in the back of his mind where rational thought was slowly crawling its way forward, that Tanguish's voice was grounding. Forcing him to recognize the moment, and stay there, and away from perilous thoughts. "Give it a shot."

Tanguish chewed on his bottom lip, suddenly nervous. His tail flicked, a motion that Helsknight felt in the jerk that traveled up Tanguish's spine. He eyes Helsknight's cramped handwriting, and let out a long breath. Helsknight let his breath out too, unaware he'd been holding it.

Tanguish read the poem aloud, wandering through stanzas with reckless abandon, ignoring punctuation like it didn't matter for meter and time. He read the poem like it was prose, one word after another, inflectionless, besides his own reactions to the alliteration.

Helsknight sighed, and welcomed the relief when his hands stopped shaking.

"You're good at that," he said, when Tanguish was done. "Read another?"

Tanguish smirked, aware of his own fumbles. But when Helsknight turned the page with hands that no longer shook, Tanguish humored him.

Helsknight let his mind rest.

[smigcrazy]

Breathe for me

Skz han jisung x skz 9th member

Female reader!

You absolutely hated crowds, loud noises, cameras, and flashes; they always made you uncomfortable, and you wanted to run away and cry whenever any of this happened. Here you were now, in the crowded airport of Korea, waiting to board a plane to Japan. Of course, the airport was packed—SO, SO crowded. Fans were screaming for photos and autographs, desperate to give you gifts to the point that some just threw them in your face. The sheer number of cameras was overwhelming, and you weren’t feeling it today. So, you pulled your hood up, put on your face mask and glasses, and followed your members while looking down, hoping this would be over soon.

As you walked, a fan shouted your name REALLY loud: “YN!!! YN!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!” You froze for a millisecond in shock but then forced a smile and looked at the fan. Your members noticed your discomfort. Han stepped closer to you and held your hand softly, squeezing it to comfort you, knowing you were overwhelmed.

With every passing moment, the crowd felt more suffocating. You felt like you were in a small, tight room, alone, with the doors locked and the walls closing in. Your heart started to race, and your mind went blank; the voices faded away, and the fans became bigger and more overwhelming in your eyes. You scratched the tips of your fingers, desperately trying to calm your anxiety. With each second, you felt like crying even more, and you struggled to breathe.

Han, who was standing next to you, noticed the signs of a panic attack. “Hey, are you okay? Do you wanna go somewhere quiet? Let’s go somewhere quiet, come on.” He walked a few steps to the front, where Chan was standing, and tapped his back, whispering in his ear, “YN is feeling a little anxious, so I’m gonna take her to the bathroom.”

Chan turned around, concern etched on his face as he looked at you and then back at Han. “Okay, but don’t be late; we’re boarding in 30 minutes.” Han nodded and took your hand, leading you to the bathroom a few meters away. Once inside, he looked at you; tears filled your eyes, and you were breathing rapidly, trying to calm down but struggling.

Han brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Just try to breathe. Can you do that for me? Breathe.” He breathed with you, saying, “Breathe... in... and out... in... out... slow and steady.” While he spoke, he rubbed your back and held your hand with his other one.

You started to calm down a little, but you were still scratching the tips of your fingers. “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Just focus on breathing, and everything will be fine, okay?” He hugged you tightly and continued to rub your back. “Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, I promise. We’ll be on the plane soon, and you can rest there.”

You looked up at him, your tear-stained face reflecting gratitude. “The company booked us business class, thank God.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Han looked at you with soft eyes, wiping away your remaining tears. “How dare you apologize?! It’s my job to calm you down! Remember when you used to calm me down during my panic attacks? I learned all that from you.”

You smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth. “Well, that’s good to hear.” You chuckled and hugged him again, grateful that he was always there for you.

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You

Warnings: Ok... this is gonna be a long one. Cursing, Lying, pain really... as far as the eye can see. Panic attacks. There is also another warning that I really wanna give but it'll also give a big part away.

Pairing: ? xReader (Another spoiler come on!)

Characters: All of the Stray Kids, OC Soo, Reader

A/N: This is my first posted Stray Kids fic, so if you like it I'll be happy to make more! Feedback is always appreciated! And if you like Supernatural as well here's my masterlist!

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-Click Here

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Things started off small, a missed call here, and a late text there. Then, they started to get more sporadic… More suspicious. Most of all, it’s in his eyes. When he’d see the dinner made and packed in the fridge for him. The laundry and dishes done, you passed out on the couch, waiting for him to come home. You didn’t see it, but his face had guilt written all over it. 

You weren’t blind. You saw the lipstick on his collar, and the scent on his clothes. The times that you kept saying, “I know you’re busy” and pecking him on his lips, despite the perfume attacking your senses. 

You figured one of his sister idols hugged him, that’s how it transferred, yeah, that was a comfy thought. It even made complete sense since hugs were a must. 

It was your 3rd anniversary, you had everything planned. All that you asked of him was to show up at said place at said time. That’s quite literally it. You had been planning this for months, even going as far as talking his manager into giving him one weekend off… just one. You also asked him what you could do to make his life just slightly easier. 

Now here you are… alone… at said place at said time. Texting. Calling. No answer. 10 minutes turned into 20 minutes, 20 to 40, 40 to an hour and a half. You sit here on the verge of tears, calling the only person you could. 

“Hey Y/N why are you calling? Is everything okay?” Minho asked. 

“He never showed,” You started crying as you mindlessly picked the petals off of the roses on the table, staring at the card you had gotten him. 

“He’s your husband, what do you mean he didn’t show?!” He yelled. 

You heard in the background, “WHAT?!” there was no mistaking that voice, it was Changbin. 

Then you heard the phone being snatched. 

“Y/N where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

You gave him the address as you tried your best to breathe. You had taken a cab here and nothing is more awkward than breaking down in the back of an Uber. About 20 minutes later you heard Bin behind you. 

“Y/N?” He asked so gently like you’d break… But you already have.

You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Your best friend’s been lying to me?”... No. You elected to just say, “I don’t know where to go.” because it’s true. You had no clue where to go. 

Binnie smiled at you. A sad, empathetic, whisper of a smile as he said “Let’s start with home, yeah?” He asked. 

You nodded, grabbed the card off of the table, and off you went. 

You had asked the guys to give you guys alone time in the dorm, so everyone was scattered through the city. Bin just happened to be at the Danceracha house when you called. 

You had no clue, but before Bin had even gotten in his car to get you. He texted everyone to meet at the 3Racha house, but NOT to go in before Bin made it to the house with you. He could tell by the look on your face that something was very wrong, and you’d need all of the support you could get. 

When everyone was there, you unlocked the door and Bin was the first to go in. Immediately his jaw dropped as he hung his head. When you came in you heard it.

Moaning… loud moaning. You looked at the floor near the front door, seeing a pair of heels you didn’t recognize. You welcomed the boys in with a pointer finger to your lips. Everyone quietly came in as you toed off your heels, eventually sitting on the couch.

You as well as the boys heard everything… The “I love you” s, the “Feel so much better than her” and finally the nail in the coffin, “I can’t wait to leave her.”

Everyone’s jaws were on the floor at what he was saying and at your reaction to them. You just stared at the wedding photo hanging on the mantle. The thought of losing the boys paralyzing you with fear. 

He continued, “never wanted her…only you… always you,” then, “m’close Baby.” You couldn’t even look at the boys. It wasn’t embarrassing, after all, you aren’t the one cheating on your husband with someone while he’s waiting to celebrate your anniversary.

You couldn’t look because of the overwhelming sadness. It was numbing, aching, sadness.

Another thing you could say is that you should’ve seen it coming. Some of his most popular songs have lyrics about someone else catching his eye.

You can hear his moans getting louder, that's a sign that he’s close so you put the card down, get up, and walk down the hallway. You look at the door that used to mean serenity and happiness, now colored a nauseating dark and gloomy gray.

You open the door and walk in. You see them, your husband and your best friend, writhing around on the bed as they both reach their highs together. You couldn’t find it in you to cry. Not even a little. 

Finally, your husband rolled off of her, giggling and enjoying the high.

The only one who noticed you were there was your best friend, Soo, who has been your friend since you moved here 6 years ago, so you could be closer to the boys. When she saw you, her face turned ghost-white… 

You just put your wedding band on the dresser drawer.

“Fuck you’re so much better than her.” he breathed out… When she didn’t respond, he opened his eyes. The pure chocolate orbs scanned you and wished, just like you, that this was a nightmare.

“Y/N/N” he breathed, you could see the weight on his shoulders as he threw his head back onto the pillow, putting his hands to his face, knowing that he was caught.

“Soo… you have 3 minutes to get dressed and to get the FUCK out of MY HOUSE…” You gritted your teeth as you threw her clothing at her.

As soon as she left you turned your full attention to your husband.

You calmly started changing clothes, taking off the skin-tight black dress that you knew would do something to him (Well thought you knew, rather). You didn’t face him as you changed, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your body. Halfway through pulling down the dress you grabbed a big sweatshirt and put it on, so when the rest of the dress slid off, He’d never see a thing. You put on sweatpants afterward. 

In your mind, you already know. The last time he will ever see your body was 3 days ago. When you both took a shower together. 

During all of this, he was frozen. You see, when your relationship started you told him, you don’t tolerate cheaters. He knows that and that you are pissed, and rightfully so, but he is also terrified of losing you. As a matter of fact, at this point, that is the only thing he is thinking about. He can’t lose you.

After you changed you started with, “How long?”

“Y/N/N I..”

“HOW LONG?” You barked. Your voice taking a stern and powerful tone.

“Physically, 2 months. Emotionally, almost a year.” His face fell.

“Do you remember what today is?” 

“What?”

“Do you remember what today is?” you asked in a docile tone as you took off your earrings, ones he had gotten for your first anniversary. 

He checked his phone and cursed under his breath, “Baby I--”

That was when you lost it, “YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT! NOT AFTER YOU SAID IT OVER AND OVER TO HER WHILE YOU WERE FUCKING HER IN OUR BED! IN OUR HOME!”

You tried to stop it from boiling over, but you couldn’t help it when visceral sobs left your throat. You grabbed a duffel bag out of the corner of the room, trying to do your best not to completely collapse. 

“Y/N, what are you doing, talk to me.” He finally got up and put some sweats on. “I know you’re hurting.”

You yelled, “This is beyond hurt!…”, Then your voice cracked as your volume plummeted, sounding and looking so small as you continued, “You have no fucking idea what you just did.”

You started hyperventilating at the gravity of his shitty decisions and the effect it will have on your life. You needed to get away from him. You stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. You couldn’t even call out to Hannie, too close to passing out from hyperventilation. 

Hannie’s ears perked up, your raspy and rapid breathing meant that you were hyperventilating. The next second he’s running to you. 

“Hey hey hey Y/N/N. You need to breathe honey, come with me.” He immediately supported your body, halting all possibility of you diving face first into the floor if you do pass out. Then he essentially dragged you back to where you were sitting. 

You grabbed the card and held it to your chest as Han kneeled in between your legs. He was trying to get you to focus on your breathing and to focus on him, to ground yourself.

As much as you wanted to focus on Han, you couldn’t help but look at that damn photo on the mantle. You wanted that photo so badly to be true again.  You couldn’t help the sobs that came out of your mouth as you hugged the card to yourself. 

When your husband, Chan, finally made his way to the living room he saw everyone there and his face turned nearly colorless. Everyone stared at him except for Han and Bin, who were worried about you more than anything. 

“You don’t understand” and “he doesn’t understand” were all you could repeat as you wept. Rocking back and forth, because no one really could understand, the gravity of what he has been doing. 

Bin tried getting through to you by saying, “Help us understand Y/N/N.” You handed him the card as you continued sobbing, consumed by the sheer pain of what Chan’s done. 

Bin opened the card and his face went from confusion to rage-filled, his features reminding Han of hardened steel. Unwavering, strong, and in this case, pissed off. 

Bin tried to sound as calm as he could, for your sake, as he said, “Hannie, put together an overnight bag for Y/N, don’t forget anything. Innah, take her to my car… she needs to calm down if not we have to go to the hospital.”

As soon as he heard the car door slam, he went off.

“You know out of all of the people I could ever conceive doing this, you would be the last of them!”

“Bin” Chan tried to say something but Changbin cut him off.

“NO! YOU DON’T GET A SAY HERE, CHRIS! YOU FUCKED UP ROYALLY AND NOW YOU DESTROYED YOUR FAMILY!” Bin was visibly shaking with rage as he walked up to Chan. Tears were starting to form in his eyes.

LeeKnow looked visibly confused as he looked to Bin, “What are you talking about?”

Bin threw the content of the card at Chan’s feet. 

Chan looked at what the card had in it, it was unmistakable.

Bin sounded broken as he responded, “Y/N is pregnant.”.

_______________________________________________________

WANT MORE? TELL ME SO!!!

Stray Kids TAG ARMY (just going to add some seriously talented Stray Kids Fanfic writers that I know about!):

@1-800-shedevil , @channiesbakery, @channieswhore , @hwangswhore , @seungminhour , @skzms, @angstraykids, @roseykat , @seventeenytiny , @dreaming-medium , @thunderous-wolf , @hanjsquokka , @moonjxsung , @diddybok , @fics-lovebot, @seungminssangel, @straykeedz, @tasteracha, @skzonthebrain

[desultory-suggestions]

It’s easy to feel invisible, but if you disappeared so many people would notice and care. The neighbors who always see you walk by, the shop owner or the cashier at your grocery store, the dog next door that likes to bark at you, the person at work or school who’s still working up the courage to talk to you, the friends you think forgot about you when you lost track of each other, the babysitter you had when you were four. You have touched a million lives in perfect little ways. Do not underestimate your importance in this world, you deserve to be here and you are wanted here.

[starry-eyed-adam]

panic attack writing prompts :)

“My chest hurts. It hurts.”

“I can’t!”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Don’t touch me—don’t touch me!”

“Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

tw: gunshots, trauma, panic attack

takes place a year or so after chapter 21 of Head Over Boots, they’re on their camping trip :)

The gunshot seemed to scream through the air, some hunter’s nearby attempt at murder of an animal, the sound rattling against Yuichi’s skull as it penetrated his ears. Faintly, the logs in his arms tumbled and hit the soft forest floor, and Yuichi fell similarly, shaking hands over his ears as he curled up tightly, defensively.

Another shot, and Yuichi yelped as his chest constricted, heart thudding erratically as he felt an icy grip around him.

Boots on the dirt, towards him, barrel of a shotgun between his eyes.

“You’ve ruined everything.”

“Honeybunny?” Leo glanced over his shoulder at the absence of footsteps behind him. The slider dropped his own firewood and hurried back, brow furrowed at the sight of his husband crouched low, shaking on the ground. “Yuichi, hey, what happened?”

Yuichi didn’t answer, barely heard a word. The world bled in and out of focus, his ears still rang, from the day his stallion threw him from the saddle and he lay there to die.

To die.

Cold metal against his jaw. A threat, and not an empty one.

Pump.

Click.

BANG!

Leo’s hand reached to gently rub his lover’s back, an attempt to ground him, bring him back.

“Don’t touch me!” Yuichi shrieked, and the cowboy instantly drew back. “Don’t touch me!”

“Darlin’, hey, you’re safe,” whispered his worried husband, kneeling before him. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

“M-My chest,” Yuichi gasped, removing one hand from his ears to clutch at the front of his shirt. Tears spilled down his cheeks, left clean streaks against the dust and dirt. “It hurts, it—it hurts.”

He was going to die. He was going to die he was going to die he was going to—

“Honeybunny,” spoke Leo, slow and soothing, “I need you to take a deep breath, okay? It hurts ‘cause you ain’t breathin’ enough.”

Gasping, chest rising and falling so rapidly and shallowly, Yuichi tried to remember how to breathe. Sucking in air too fast, he choked and coughed. “I—I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Yuichi, honey, nobody’s gonna hurt you. I’m right here, okay? Deep breaths, darlin’. Watch me.” Hesitantly, reluctantly, Yuichi cracked his wild, glistening eyes open, found Leo’s calm blue ones. “Good, good,” whispered the slider with a smile. “Take a deep breath in, through your nose. Slow.” Watching his husband breathe in, so slow and easy, Yuichi closed his mouth to copy him.

“There ya go! Good. Now out through your mouth.” Leo blew out a breath, and, shakily, Yuichi did the same. “Good job, honeybunny. Take another breath in.”

The guided breathing went on for what felt like ages as Yuichi’s chest loosened, and the frigid feeling slipped away, melted into the forest floor with his terror. “There you go,” whispered Leo with a small, proud smile. “Is it okay if I hold your hand, honeybunny?”

Yuichi wiped at his eyes with a sniff and nodded after a moment. The familiar feeling of the rough, calloused palm in his own, the sensation of Leo’s thumb rubbing little circles against the back of his hand, was an instant comfort, and Yuichi closed his eyes to breathe deeply again. “Good job,” praised his husband again, smiling warmly at him. “You wanna tell me what happened, there?”

Swallowing, rubbing at his eye again, Yuichi made a face. “It was, um. It was stupid,” he mumbled. “I heard a gunshot. And I got scared.”

“Mm.” Leo continued to rub his hand, still breathing so slow and calm. “That ain’t stupid. Gunshots are scary. Especially after what Don’s put ya through.” He shifted to sit beside Yuichi, guiding his husband to lean into his side, rest his head on his shoulder. Yuichi closed his eyes with the soothing comfort of Leo’s body, the smell of pine and hay and the cologne that always stayed on his clothes.

“Think you can make it back to camp, honey?” whispered Leo, rubbing his back. Yuichi sniffed again and nodded, moving to stand but wincing at the burning pain that radiated through his knees. Dammit.

“It’s okay, I got ya.” Leo grinned as he wrapped his arm around Yuichi’s waist, lifting him to stand like he weighed nothing. “Wanna grab your firewood? We’ll head back to camp an’ take a nap, okay? Panic attacks are exhaustin’.” He kissed Yuichi’s cheek with a small smile, and the rabbit yokai returned it, lingering for a moment. Yuichi watched with a grin of his own as Leo started back on the trail, going to gather the wood he’d dropped.

Damn, he was lucky to have someone who loved him so much.

prompts below! from @unboundprompts

[naswoop]

Brief interlude between isat fanarts to draw @dekupalace's In Stars and Time au because I am utterly obsessed <-(said while vibrating with excitement)

Lil bonus pencil sketch under the cut

[guardian-of-da-gay]

Breathless

Read on Ao3

For Whumptober 2024 Prompt 1: Panic Attack

tw for implied bullying, panic attacks, undiagnosed PTSD

“As far as I’m concerned, this is a good thing!”  Knuckles said petulantly from his place at the very back of the car.  “Now I won’t have to go back to that school!”

“You’re suspended, not expelled,” Tom said, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel.  “Means once your suspension is up, you’re going right back to school.”

Looking in the rearview mirror, Maddie could see Tails staring deeply at his shoes.  Sonic was wincing, eyes flicking between Knuckles and his parents in the front seat.  He was obviously debating joining in the fight, but keeping out was the better option here.  Maddie was in no mood for him to make light of the situation or try to cover for his brother.

Maddie felt overwhelmed.  Too much had happened that day and it all centered on her eldest.  She’d never regret adopting her kids, but out of all of them Knuckles made her feel like she was in over head.  She didn’t know what she was going to do with him!  She couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself suspended.

She was apocalyptically angry.  Even Tom was mad.  He was trying to stay calm though.  Trying to keep being the fun parent.  Maddie was usually all for that, but not today.

“When we get home, you are grounded!”  She said.  “That means no–” here’s where she would rattle off the fun things he was suspended from: TV?  He didn’t care about TV.  Video games?  He didn’t play any.  Going out with friends?  He didn’t have any except his brothers (and Wade).  Knuckles didn’t do fun things in his free time unless they made him.  They’d grounded him from grapes in the past, but he could totally get by without them.  Grounding him from training he’d just ignored .  But they couldn’t just not punish him.  He’d broken a kid's arm and blown up a bathroom for Christ’s sake.

“No going outside!”  She said.

“What?!”

“Yeah!”  She’d found a good one, she thought.  Judging by his angry gasp, she’d actually found a consequence he would actually feel.  “No training.  No runs.  No hiking.  Unless you’re with me or Tom–”

“Or the house is burning down!”  Tom cut in.

“--or there’s an emergency like the house is burning down!  You are housebound, young man!”

Several things happened very quickly after that.

Knuckles yanked on his seatbelt.  It locked.  He yanked again and broke it completely from its socket.

There was a chorus of ‘Hey!’ ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Dude, chill!’ ‘Knuckles, calm down–!’

Then the back of the car exploded.

The front end was blasted forward into the other lane.  Tom jerked the wheel, tires and passengers screaming.  The wild swerve had the car tipping violently to the side.  Just when Maddie was sure they would flip, it swung back the other way and the car landed, with a jerky bounce, right-side-up, stationary, and seemingly fine.  Except the back of the car was gone.  

And so was Knuckles.

There was a click as Sonic unbuckled and then he vanished as well.  Maddie could see a blue blur vanish off the side of the road, following a burst of red electricity.

She turned to the youngest first.  “Are you okay?”  She asked Tails in the back.

“I’m fine,” Tails was flinging off his own seatbelt and jumping out of the wreckage of the car, tails spinning.

Maddie turned to Tom just as Tom turned to her.  “Are you okay?”  They asked each other at once.

“I think so,” Maddie answered, rubbing her neck.  She definitely had some whiplash.  It hurt now, it would kill  tomorrow.

Sonic reappeared at her window. “Something’s wrong with Knuckles!”  He cried.

You don’t say?  Maddie thought, pressing at the tense muscles of her neck.

“I think he’s having a heart attack or something!”

“What?!”  Tom demanded.

Maddie forgot about her neck.  She unbuckled and jumped out of the car.  Sonic led the way and she ran after, her mind racing along with her feet.  Knuckles couldn’t really be having a heart attack, could he?  He was far too young and fit.  But he had also lived a rough life.  Could he have a hidden cardiovascular problem from some old illness or injury?  Her vet brain was taking over, mentally flipping through the possibilities.

Tails stood at the top of a short ridge, marking their way.  He turned, hands wringing as they approached.  “Something’s really wrong with him!”  He said.  “I don’t think he can hear me.”

Maddie crested the rise and saw Knuckles at the bottom, back pressed against a tree, crouched down with his fists up, blocking his head.  Even from where she stood she could tell he was shaking.  His quills were glowing slightly.  He didn’t look at them.

Maddie stumble-ran down the rise.  “Knuckles!”  She slowed as she approached.  He didn’t acknowledge her, but she could see his side heaving as he gasped for air.  “Knuckles?”  He still didn’t respond.  She wasted a second debating what to do.  But she couldn’t give him space.  Not when he was breathing like that.  “Knuckles, honey, it’s going to be okay–”  She touched his shoulder and his whole body jerked away, slamming into the tree.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”  He roared.

For the second time that day, Maddie got whiplash.  Sonic yanked her away at speed just as an explosion of red lightning erupted from the echidna’s body.  She was lifted off her feet and crashed into Tom, who managed to keep his footing at the top of the rise.  At this rate, she was gonna be in traction tomorrow.  

“Sorry,” Sonic said hastily.  “Saw where that was going.”

“Knuckles!”  Tom yelled, tone caught between concerned and sharpness.  “What are you doing?!”

“What did you do–What–���  Knuckles wheezed and gasped for breath.  Maddie righted herself.  He was hyperventilating.  “ What did you do to me?! ”  He demanded.

“Woah, we didn’t do anything, Knuckles!”  Sonic said, zipping down closer to the echidna.  “You’ve got to calm down and let us help you.”

“Get away from m–me!”  Knuckles face scrunched, teeth grit as he continued to gasp for air like a drowning man.  Red electricity fizzled off of him warningly and Sonic took several steps back.  He looked up at Tom and Maddie, his helpless gaze matched by the one Tails was giving them.

“This doesn’t look like a heart attack,” Tom said so just Maddie could hear.

“I didn’t think so either,” she said.  “You guys just keep back a second, okay?”  She stepped out of Tom’s grip.  She didn’t see the look Tom shot to Sonic, but she saw Sonic nod, resolve in his eyes.  She had a feeling if Knuckles exploded again, she’d find herself yanked back at warp speed once more.

She approached the trembling echidna, cautious but not afraid.  She faced down bulls, pregnant beef cows, and feral cats on a near daily basis.  And this was her kid.

“Stay back!” Knuckles roared at her approach.  “I’ll hurt you!”   He said it like it was both threat and fear.  Electricity arced off his trembling body.

“Honey–”

“Don’t call me that!”  Knuckles yelled, his voice strangled and breathless.  “ You gave yourself away!  I know your game–” he wheezed “--you use sweet words so I don’t no-notice you locking the cage door–”

“We’re not locking you up,” Maddie said.  “We’d never do that, no matter how much trouble you’re in.”  She kept advancing forward, stooping at the waist so she wouldn’t loom over him.  “But that doesn’t matter now.  I need you to calm down–”

“No!  No! ”  He growled, sucking air rapidly through his grit teeth.  “I need–I need to get away…”  He fumbled with his hands, movements made clumsy by his shaking fingers.

“Do you want to go home?”  Maddie asked.  Maybe he would feel better if they were in a familiar environme–

“I need off this planet!”  He ripped at the cuff of one glove and a golden ring flew out and disappeared into the grass.  Knuckles let out a sound that was half growl, half sob.  He pushed himself into the tree, looking anywhere but at her.  “ What did you do to me ?”

Maddie shook her head.  “Nothing, honey, you’re just… I think you’re just having a panic attack.”

“I’m being attacked?!”

“No.  You’re safe,” she said firmly.  “But your mind is tricking you into thinking you’re in danger.  But you’re not.  You’re safe .”

“Yo- you’re tricking me!  I can trust my–my mind!”  His words fumbled around his rapid breathing.  “I can trust myself!  I–”  His eyes flitted around, seeking escape.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight again.  He was beginning to list to one side.  Maddie feared he might actually faint if he couldn’t get his breathing under control.

There was nothing she wanted nothing more than to reach out and right him.  Then maybe grab him up into a hug.  But she couldn’t.  Helpless and overwhelmed, she didn’t know what to do.  Hugs and kind words were her go-to methods for Sonic and Tails.  Knuckles had spat at her kind words.  He’d screamed at her hug.  Her big tough boy was falling apart and there was nothing she could do.

“I can’t–I can’t–” Knuckles gasped for breath, clutching at his chest and swaying slightly.  “I can’t breathe .”

“I know,” she said miserably.  “I know, honey, but you have to.  You’re so strong, Knuckles, I know you can.  You have to take a deep breath like–” For her it would be yoga, but for Knuckles? “--when you meditate?  Try to meditate.  Focus on your breathing and nothing else.”

“I want it to stop,” Knuckles said.

“It will,” Maddie promised.  “It’ll be over soon.”

Maddie had had panic attacks before, in vet school.  She didn’t think they’d been this bad though.  Or maybe this was just what it felt like to be on the other side.  She’d need to ask Tom.

She resisted the urge to try and get him counting his breaths.  When Tom had done that she couldn’t do it and then she’d just felt more stressed for failing to be helped.  She doubted Knuckles would feel the same way, but he was so independent–like ‘decides to break the arm of a kid that’s bullying him instead of telling literally anyone’ levels of independence–that he would probably be stressed most that he couldn’t control himself.

No, they just had to ride this out.  Maddie remembered it always felt like her panic attacks took forever to go away.  It was the same when watching one.  

Knuckles’ face scrunched as he breathed forcefully through the nose and out the mouth.  It was still too fast.  She worried, was he getting enough oxygen?  One of his hands fell away from his head and to the ground, propping him up.  Maddie squashed the urge to rub his back.  She wanted so badly to be able to soothe him, but all she could do was crouch beside him and whisper that it would be okay.  It would be over soon and then they could go home.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I’m sorry I started this.”  She was sure she was the cause.  It made her feel even more awful.  “It’ll be over soon.  I promise.  We’ll go home and you’ll feel better.”

“Will I…”  Knuckles’ breathing was a tiny bit slower.  “Will I still be g-grounded to the house?”

“No,” Maddie said quickly.  Her bright idea didn’t seem so bright now.  “I’ll– We, you, Tom, and I, will talk about what would be a fair consequence later.”

His voice pitched up and shook.  “Will you break my arm?”

“What?  No!”

“I broke that boy’s arm.”

“We will never punish you by hurting you,” Maddie said firmly.  “Don’t worry about that now, okay?  Just focus on breathing and feeling better.  That’s all you need to think about right now, okay?  Nothing else matters.”

Maddie didn’t know how much longer it was before Knuckles was breathing normally again.  Long enough that she saw a flash of red and blue on the other side of the rise.  Someone must have found their empty, destroyed car.  At the top of the rise, Tom had the other two boys in some kind of huddle.  He left to deal with whoever had just arrived.

Beside her, Knuckles straightened.  She glanced over at him.  He was sitting more normally, breathing more normally, and looking absolutely awful.  Maddie remembered that post-attack feeling.  Like a soggy, wrung out dishrag.  Even someone as strong as Knuckles wasn’t immune to tha.  But it was over.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Maddie said in her softest, ‘approaching a scared dog’ voice.  “We can go back up with the others.”

Knuckles didn’t look at her or answer.  He just stood up and started trudging up the little hill.  Maddie followed after, watching him.  His movements were a little unsteady, like his limbs had forgotten how they worked.  Knuckles always carried himself like he was eight feet tall.  Seeing him off balance and shaken felt wrong.

Knuckles didn’t acknowledge Sonic or Tails.  Sonic opened his mouth to say something as he stalked passed, but cut himself off.  Instead he and Tails fell in line, flanking their brother as they all headed back to what remained of their car.

Tom was talking to an officer.  Maddie couldn’t remember his name at the moment.  The man  was looking at their destroyed car and scratching the back of his head as Tom spoke to him.  He lifted his head so Maddie could see his confusion clearly.  His gaze swept over to them and when his eyes landed on Knuckles his expression cleared.  He nodded like Knuckles’ presence had just answered a question for him.  Maddie was almost offended before she remembered that this was Knuckles’ second act of destruction that day.  This was his m.o. Their insurance premiums showed the scars.

Tom turned away from the accident and came jogging over.  He watched Knuckles just a little too long as he approached.  Maddie could see the moment he realized he was staring.  Tom looked away and avoided looking at him again.

There was an awkward pause as the whole family seemed to be waiting to see if anyone would acknowledge what just happened.  Maddie was of the mind that they weren’t going to do anything that made Knuckles uncomfortable until he looked less visibly shaken.  And Knuckles looked like he wanted everyone to forget the whole thing.  So, for now, that’s what she was going to do.

“Uh…”  Tom broke the silence.  “Wade’s going to come pick us up.”

Oh, Maddie felt a genuine flash of relief.  “Oh, Wade?”  She looked at Knuckles.  “That’ll be nice, right?”

Knuckles wasn’t even looking at her.  He was staring at the car with a look of deep confusion.

“Knux?”  Sonic asked, his voice softer than usual.

When Knuckles finally spoke, his voice rasped:  “What happened to the car?”

All the Wachowskis looked at him with varying levels of confusion, concern, and dismay.  Maddie’s heart plummeted and for the first time in this whole incident she felt a flash of true fear.  She looked into Knuckles’ genuinely baffled face and knew she was truly, deeply , in over her head.