#sobbing and shaking and hyperventilating

[go-see-a-starwar]

[sweetcheesecakesblog]

[gojuo]

SHONEN JUMP YOUTUBE CHANNEL RANDOMLY POSTING A PV COMMEMORATING KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS ..........

[born-to-lose]

Okay I will definitely kill myself

[breedabletrait]

Another baby !!!!

[miss-menhera]

There is no way this is what calmed me down during a psychotic breakdown, god I am so FUCKING BIZZARE. Sliiiiight tw for tags describing a psychotic breakdown

[permetutotheworld]

imagine having a meltdown bc you had to take a freezing cold shower bc your voltage it down bc a tree is on the electricity lines

[starkeysbunny]

tears [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.

warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe

rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.

“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.

“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“

his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.

“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”

his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.

he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.

“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.

“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”

she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.

“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.

“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.

she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”

he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.

she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.

he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.

she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”

he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.

she shakes her head. “just you.”

he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.

he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”

he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.

nothing came before his girl.

[rabbithaver]

i am so tired of having my pain medication dangled in front of me every day and then jerked away like "no actually there's been a problem" that's happened four fucking times today LITERALLY SINCE I WOKE UP. and just when i thought we had it sorted? NOPE actually one of the first problems wasn't even a real problem, i was misinformed by the fucking pharmacy, and in trying to solve that problem, made ANOTHER ONE. im so close to actually walking into fucking traffic i am so fucking exhausted

[sighmurderbot]

Wow having a sudden menty b at work so fun 😀👍

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD

"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

Simon goes to bed early that night.

He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.

Learn how to do this. It may save your life.

The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.

It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.

The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"

"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"

"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"

"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.

The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.

You have to be here. He just talked to you.

But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?

He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."

You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.

His heart breaks when he opens the door.

You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.

There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."

You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."

"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.

He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.

Simon shuts the door.

"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."

Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"

"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."

"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."

"Okay."

"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.

He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.

He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.

He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.

"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.

Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.

Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.

He holds you. You hold his baby.

How it was always meant to be.

He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.

"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.

"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.

"What is it?"

"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"

"Of course."

He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.

"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."

You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.

But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.

"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.

"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.

"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.

"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.

"I will. I promise."

[mejomonster]

hate panic attacks think they’re possibly the worst experience inside

[zhongrin]

zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.

i'm tired, darling.

featuring... ❥ zhongli, al haitham, jing yuan, blade

involves... ❥ hurt/comfort(-ish), implied self-harm, suicidal thoughts/behavior, probably incoherent, not proofread

through the thousands years of his life, through the plethora of sounds that could bring both fear and sadness to the god of stone’s heart, one stands out most; and he is forced to relive this moment as his ears picked up your heart-wrenching wail and loud sobs from the bedroom. he pays no mind to the clatter of his shoes nor the crumple of his signature coat to the floor, missing its intended place at the coat hanger. all he knows is that you’re in pain — his mate is in pain.

zhongli finds you curled in your nest, trembling and buying your head into your favorite pillow. his chest tightens when you peek at him, and he sees the rain of tears staining your cheeks, eyelashes matted and lips quivering. a variety of emotions wells inside him, but he’s sure it’s nowhere near intense as what you’re experiencing right now.

“darling…,” your husband whispers, stepping closer slowly, reaching forward cautiously like he’s approaching a wounded animal, “can i come closer?”

you can’t seem to reply, busy hiccuping and teetering the edges of hyperventilating. wilting and rotting like a flower that’s been rained for far too long. struggling to stay alive, and yet the petals are falling, the leaves crushed, the thin stem drooping.

your skin is marred, and in turn a pained frown mar his face. his gloves are taken off haphazardly, and they gently settle on your back, trying to rub soothing patterns. he knows not to speak, yet he makes sure you won’t be in further danger for yourself.

it’s a slow process, for you to unlatch yourself from the pillow and delve into his embrace instead. but when you finally do after a series of patient coaxing and comforting touches, he holds you tighter.

just hold on, please just hold on. his warm hand cradles your nape, reassuring and solid, while the other squeezes against the flesh of your back. this too shall pass. his lips press against your shoulder; reverent, loving, apologetic. i love you.

for a man who has his way with words, there are just as many unspoken words in each of his silent actions. he can only hope it's enough to tide you for tonight. at least for tonight.

“everything hurts.”

“i don’t know what's wrong.”

“i’m so tired.”

there are many things al haitham knows the answer to. those that he doesn't would normally require some deep research, but at the end of the day he comes out a renewed man who could potentially give a few presentations about said topic if he so wished. but matters of the heart are notoriously fickle, complicated, and perhaps ironically beyond human understanding.

“i don’t know how you can help. i don't know how to even help myself.”

all he can do is hold you, and he is plunged into the enlightening pit that is the realization about the powerlessness of a mortal, as he feels the shaking of your body within his arms. the sharp mind he is often praised and insulted for and the body he trains daily for precautions are useless against this intangible enemy.

what was he to say? “it’s okay”? when he couldn’t guarantee that it would be? “you’ll be okay”? wouldn’t that imply you should have the capability to make yourself okay? “it’ll get better”? wouldn’t it be overly optimistic and naive to believe the world will just somehow align itself to pave a path of flowers for you?

too many uncertainties. too lacking of valid evidences to support his case. broken and as worn out as you may be, you are not a fool, and such is a trait that he will continue to adore about you. the treatment as an equal is what you deserve, even when you’re in your lowest moment.

so he settles with something he knows will be factually true and has a complete control over:

“i’m always here for you.”

everyone equates silence to peace, yet often fails to account silence as suffering.

centuries of living, and jing yuan too manages to make the same mistake. there’s something haunting about the way you lay on your shared bed today. and now that he thinks about it more, yesterday… and the days before, too. something unnatural in your smiles, in the way it slips far too quickly and the way you always close your eyes, as if to hide something. the way you keep your nails short, the nail clipper making itself home on your nightstand and used every morning and every night, almost in desperation. the nights where he would fall asleep to your snore are quiet: the room listens to his breaths and the tranquil chirps of the cicadas outside.

silence.

silence.

silence.

silence.

“darling, something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me.”

you look at him like you’re tired of life itself, and his heart freezes. in a second, he drops onto the bed and cups your cheek. by now you should have berated him not to wear his work clothes and climb onto bed with them, and yet all he’s met with is

silence.

and a shaky breath, before you finally speak, soft and uncertain and numb.

“why can’t it all just end, yuan?”

he can give you a hundred reasons. because it means he won’t be able to see you smile anymore. because it means he won’t be able to make you laugh. because it means he won’t be able to kiss you, make love to you, treat you like the priceless treasure…

… that he has utterly failed to do.

“i’m sorry, darling. i was ignorant. when did this start?” he pleads. the man commanding an entire ship that may as well be a nation in itself grovels willingly before you, his hand cradling yours before bringing it up to his lips. your knight nuzzles your palm, observes the way your eyes turns glassy, a tear slowly sliding down your temple onto the halo of your hair.

“let’s end this silence and talk to me…. please?”

“countless times. countless. times…,” his breath shudders, jaw clenching before his lips reopen, “… you tell me, again and again, to be careful with my body. and yet i come back to see this…”

blade’s breath hitches, and perhaps a stab to the heart would be less painful than the way his body seizes up with hurt at the way you promptly apologize, with those godforsaken tears continuing to make a stream of sadness stain your cheeks.

he’s always seen you as a tempered steel, resilient and sharp, yet comforting and reassuring. the star to his night, illuminating and guiding. the sun in his orbit, ever present and shining so brightly.

he forgets that even the strongest blades, too, can break. that any stars can disappear in an instant by a supernova. that a sun continuously burns itself just to shine and will one day, too, burn out like a fizzling candle.

your voice is as cracked as the weapon he wields and it cuts deeper into the scarred remains of his cursed heart. he swallows thickly, yet the lump in his throat refuses to cease. rough hands tightening before his arms bring you into a painful embrace. just like the way you hold him whenever the nightmares visit. he tries to wipe your crystalline tears with his fingers, watches sorrowfully as your swollen eyes glazes and the whites of your eyes fills with red lines. the grief you experience is harrowing, and he wonders if this is how you feel whenever you see him suffer: powerless, bleak, tortured.

“don’t cry.” would it truly suffice to just hold you like this?

“don’t cry.” would it be better to kill everything you’ve ever interacted with so you won’t be hurt further?

“don’t cry.” would it be better to remove himself from your life…?

“i’ll give you everything,” he finds his own voice break, “everything… so please stop crying.”

[reignpage]

The Other Man

Your worst nightmare is avoiding your eyes. 

Still sweating and slightly out of breath from the sprint you made from your home to the hospital, you try to wipe your hands down the material of your jeans, and you’re mortified to find them shaking. 

Is it from adrenaline or from fear? 

When they said they found your husband, alive, and he’s been fixed up all brand new, you thought everything would be fine, that things would go back to normal. Your home will finally stop being so stifling, you won’t burn a hole through your carpet from all the pacing like your friend tried to joke, and you no longer have to hold yourself at night just to stop from hyperventilating.

But when you look at his eyes and see only confusion and a drop of anxiety, you know something’s gone terribly wrong. 

“He suffered trauma to the head and we noticed no signs of it during surgery, so the symptoms only showed up now. We’re sorry we hadn’t been able to warn you ahead of time,” the doctor says. 

Maybe now your hands are shaking from anger. 

You step towards the doctor, the sterile smell of latex gloves and death stinging your nose, and you splutter out, “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with my husband? Why is no one just telling me straight up?”

He flinches. 

They both do. 

You don’t feel bad, can’t feel bad. 

The doctor opens his mouth and he’s explaining, rambling about all sorts of medical terms you don’t know and it’s likely he’s doing it to distract you, or punish you, but you do hear one word. It registers and sends a static ringing through your ears. 

“It would seem your husband has developed retrograde amnesia.”

Amnesia. 

When he finishes, a silence takes over, filling up the room and pressing you to the walls, daring you to suck in a breath. A beat or two passes whilst he wait for either one of you to say something, ask something, anything. But no one does, so he leaves and immediately you wish he stayed. 

“Hi.”

His voice breaks you out of your internal panicking. It has a slight quiver, perhaps from the deep sleep he had been under, or the exhaustion that had built up, the price to pay for saving so many people in one night. The reports said, on the night he disappeared, that there had been many curses, strong ones, gathered in an organised attack, an ambush. They had backed your husband in a corner and pushed him to his limits. 

They did this. 

You try to smile. 

“Hi, baby, how you doing?”

There’s a blush forming across his cheeks and you smile for real, finding his embarrassment adorable, but then it drops just as quick when he clears his throat, as if setting a boundary. 

“So,” he drags out, “you’re my wife, huh?”

What’s the procedure for losing your loved one to an internal injury so bad you feel it cut deep? What’s the etiquette? Because you’re so sure screaming at him to stop playing this cruel joke is probably not a good idea; you already know what the doctors would say.

It would be unwise to push him.

Your steps are hesitant but you push through that invisible force keeping you back. You need to touch him, need to feel that, despite it all, he’s warm and real and breathing — at least one of you has to be. 

He looks up at you from your position beside his bed and watched your hand lift towards his face. He doesn’t move, he steels himself for your sake, you know it, because your husband has always been the kindest, most empathetic man you’ve ever met. 

Then you cradle his slightly cut up cheek and tears stream down before you even know it, a laugh bubbles out and you sob it out. He’s really alive. 

“I’m so happy you came back.”

He smiles, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s still a genuine smile and your heart leaps. If he can smile at you like that even without the pull of the shared memories of his time with you, then surely there’s hope. Because through his dazzling eyes, always dazzling, you believe there’s a huge box of everything he had filed on you, on his love for you, his wishes and desires for for you both. It’s just locked away at the moment, but you’ll find a key. 

You have to. 

“I must have been pretty great to bag a gorgeous woman like you.” 

“The greatest.”

He laughs in surprise. He did that every time you played along, because no one else ever had, not his own family or his friends, and not even himself. 

And the hours pass by with him asking questions and you answering patiently, despite the stab at your chest from every moment he forgot, every special occasion he doesn’t remember, and you both relive the bad times, the terrible times. 

Except he’s going it through for the first time. 

All the nurses and doctors filter in and out, changing this, emptying that, wiping here, walking there, and throwing all sorts of information at you. Eventually, they give you a care pack full of pamphlets filled with numbers and websites for support, letting you know he’s free to leave, but that check-ups will have to be frequent to monitor his progress. 

You can tell he’s getting tired; you don’t blame him, it’s been too much too fast. So you tell him, “Alright, handsome, it’s time to go home.”

He cheers up at that, eagerly packing and hobbling out of the hospital and into your car. The car ride home isn’t quiet like you had dreaded, it’s loud, bustling with more questions and excited remarks. 

“No way. He ate that finger? That’s so funny.”

“Oh, his hair is really that spiky? And she puts up with both of them? Wow.”

“He’s still teaching? That’s great.”

When you pull up to the house at the end of the street, all the lights are off and you feel a little embarrassed that it doesn’t look inviting, and  of course you forgot to clean up the dishes and vacuum the carpet. Maybe you should have gotten balloons and streamers, maybe invited his friends. You know the doctor said don’t overwhelm him, but they’ll definitely come knocking sooner than later. 

That’s how loved your husband is. 

You have a bashful smile when you finally glance up at him, both walking up to the door, and it plummets at the disappointed look on his face. He doesn’t care about the lights, only that the home he had been expecting is the one across the city, the one you had made him move out of years ago so you could live together as a soon to be wedded pair. 

Now, he’ll have to live in your home as a guest, borrowing your cups and plates, and wearing clothes he didn’t buy but the other man did, and then he’ll be sleeping next to you. 

A stranger. 

You gulp the horrified scream down and, with shaky hands, you unlock the door, ignoring the overwhelming feeling that you’re losing an uphill battle, that things will never be the same, and he’ll never love you, not like he did. 

Your husband is loyal to a fault; he won’t leave you, not because he loves you, not because he can’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with you, but because there’s a ring on his left finger that he keeps playing around with like it feels wrong to have it on. 

And the realisation that you don’t care, that you have enough love for the both of you, that you want, need, to have him in any way he’ll let you, creates a dull ache in your stomach.

You don’t try to smile when you turn to him, even when he does. 

All you say is,

“Welcome home, Satoru.”

[httpdwaekki]

crampy | k.s.

summary: when your period come suddenly and you have to cancel plans, seungmin is there to help you through the pain.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: descriptions of period cramps, crying, seungmin being a mushy bean for his partner, i think this is p much gn!reader besides the period but please let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: happy birthday mong mong!! a self indulgent fic but for my favorite puppy <33 i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library | fundraiser

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you didn’t know what else to do.

you’ve tried every trick you could think of but nothing would stop the searing pain in your pelvis. every month without fail you were bed ridden for at least 2 days, curled up in pain, unable to move.

you’re starving with simultaneously no appetite because of the pain. however this time felt worse, this time you were supposed to go out with seungmin and the rest of his members but everytime you moved you were immediately met with pain.

cutting your losses you just curled up with your heating pad and grabbed your phone. you send seungmin a quick text telling him you couldn’t make it and to tell the boys you were sorry.

after that another cramp hit, it felt like someone had grabbed your insides and squeezed as hard as they could. you let out a yelp as the pain only worsened, sobbing out in pure agony.

you were mostly crying because of the pain but you also felt horrible for canceling on your boyfriend and his friends. the pain mixing with the guilt only made you sob harder.

unbeknownst to you, seungmin was on his way to your place, something about your text sounded off. he didn’t know what it was but something in his gut told him he needed to go to you, so he did.

once he opened the door he was met with the sounds of your cries. alarm bells immediately went off in his head as he quickly locked the door, tossing his shoes and bag to the side, running to your room.

he found you curled in a ball, facing the door, eyes closed as heartbreaking sobs leave your mouth. he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling on the floor in front of you before placing a hand on your shoulder.

you gasp in surprise, eyes wide as they shoot open. “it’s just me, it’s just me, i’m sorry.” he quickly says, holding his hands up in surrender.

once your brain registers the familiar man in front of you, you feel the lump form in your throat once more. your hands come up to cover your face as the tears flow down your cheeks.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry” you sob, your breathing choppy as you speak. “hey, hey,” he says softly, moving your hands with one, gently wiping your tears with the other.

“it’s okay pup, what’s going on hm?” your lip wobbles once again, reminded of the pain. “i- ah!“ you start, just in time for another wave of pain. you curl into yourself, bringing your arm to press the hot pad even further onto your skin.

“okay, i understand bubs,” he moves to sit on your bed, placing one arm over the one on your stomach, the other on your head, softly stroking your forehead. he places a kiss to your temple, shushing you softly, “it’s okay, you’re okay, breathe pup, breathe.”

you take shakey deep breath, exhaling after a few seconds. you both sit there for a while, letting your breath even out before either of you spoke. “i’m sorry.” you whimper, pulling away to look at him.

your bottom lip jutting out as a fresh wave of tears rolls down your face. he places a hand on your cheek, gently brushing away the fresh tears, shushing you. “stop apologizing bub,” he leans down, placing a kiss to your hair. “you have nothing to be sorry for.” you shake your head, new tears following the old.

“i got my period, and it’s really bad and i was trying to suck it up and come i promise but it was really fucking bad seung, it just-“ you were rambling and losing your breath, starting to hyperventilate.

“sh, sh, it’s okay pup, breathe,” he leans back slightly, “scoot over a bit.” he gently requests, making sure the heating pad stayed on your abdomen.

once a little space was created, he slides into your bed, pulling you into him. “okay, my bub, just relax, everything’s okay, no one’s upset, okay?” you sniffle, catching your breath a bit. “promise?” your voice small as you ask.

“i promise, we were all just concerned, and wanted to make sure you were okay.” he reassures, rubbing soothing circles on your back. you nod, turning into his chest, melting into him, just crying for a few minutes until you felt better.

you shift, laying your face against his chest as he continues rubbing your back. “did you take medicine or eat?” you shake your head, drawing figures on his tummy.

“do you have medicine?” you nod your head, pointing to the bathroom. “in the medicine cabinet, second shelf to the left.” he nods, placing a kiss to your head before standing. “i’ll

be quick.” he whispers, quickly making his way to the attached room.

he comes back out holding the familiar bottle, placing it on your bedside table. he pulls out his phone before smoothly moving back to his previous spot. “okay i’m gonna order us some ramen so you can eat and then take some medicine, how does that sound hm?” he asks, already opening his delivery app.

if you had any more tears left you’d be sobbing again but you’re fresh out. instead you nod, placing a kiss to his peck, “thank you pup.” you whisper cuddling back into him.

he smiles looking down at you before placing a kiss to your hair once more. “anything for you bubs.” he goes back to

work, ordering his ramen and your usual before placing his phone down, snuggling into you.

“once the ramen comes and you eat a bit i’ll give you some medicine, but when we finish eating do you wanna sleep or take a bath?” you think about it for a moment before coming to a decision.

“sleep, i’m exhausted.” he nods, rubbing your arm, “okay we can do that, and then if you want a bath when you wake up we can do that too okay?” you nod before turning your head, placing a kiss to this peck.

“thank you baby, i don’t know what i’d do without you.” you wrap your arms around him, wincing as another cramp spreads pain through your body. “ah.” you cry, shoving your face back into his chest.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him, “okay bubs, i ordered it so hopefully it’ll be here soon and then you can eat take medicine and go to sleep.”

you nod, pressing your face further into him, trying to calm yourself. he starts humming, hoping to put you at ease with his voice. once he feels you relaxing into him he starts singing softly, letting you focus on his voice rather than the pain.

you ended up falling asleep before the food comes, waking up to see a dim light and seungmin bringing in the food. he sets it on the table before looking over seeing you smiling sleepily at him.

“hi bubs, you ready to eat?” he asks as he sits on the bed next to you, carefully brushing your hair out of your face. you nod, sitting up carefully as he prepares your ramen on the table next to your bed.

once you were sitting up, he hands you the bowl, “careful, it’s hot.” you nod, carefully taking the bowl before he grabs a pillow, making sure the heating pad is placed properly before placing the pillow on your lap.

“thank you, bubba.” you smile to him, before he leans down to place a soft kiss to your lips. “you’re welcome, pup.” he says against your lips before sitting down, handing you your chopsticks.

he makes his ramen as well and both of you eat in silence. once finished he grabs your trash putting it in the take out bag it came in, leaving to put it in the trash.

he comes back with two bottles of water, placing them both on the table before opening the bottle of medicine, handing you 2 pills. he places them in your hand, opening one of the waters, handing that to you as you place the pills in your mouth.

you take a gulp of water, swallowing the medicine before taking a couple extra sips before handing the bottle back to him. “thank you.” you whisper, scooting over to give him more room as he places the bottle down.

“you’re welcome, bubs.” he says, leaning over to place a kiss on your head. he quickly gets up to turn off the light before climbing into bed with you. he opens his arms, allowing you to lay against him.

once in his arms, he wraps them around you, kissing your face all over. you giggle as he does this before eventually he stops, not wanting to make your cramps worse. you relax into him, melting further into his embrace.

“is you heating pad okay?” you nod against him, a yawn leaving your lips. “good, sweet dreams pup, i love you.” he whispers, placing one last kiss to your head. “good night bubba, love you too.” you mumble before both of you drift off into each other’s arms.

do not repost or edit

[0omillo0]

SEUNGMIN X READER

a/n: angst, happy ending

Seungmin agrees to prank you with Lee Know and Hyunjin, buy he doesn’t know you suffer of very bad panic attacks.

˚୨୧⋆｡♡˚⋆

Halloween nights had always been exciting for your boyfriend, but you were not quite sure about it. You weren’t a big fan of scary things, but your boyfriend, Seungmin, insisted on watching a horror movie together, making it seem like the perfect cozy night in. He wrapped you in a blanket, your head resting on his shoulder, as the flickering screen lit up the dark room. You trusted him, and having him next to you gave you a sense of security, despite your anxiety about the movie.

You didn’t know what was coming.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin and Lee Know had a plan in mind—a Halloween prank to scare you while you were watching the movie. Seungmin knew about it, and though he was initially hesitant, he eventually agreed, thinking it would be harmless fun. He had no idea how intense your reaction would be.

The movie was creeping toward a particularly terrifying scene, tension building in every corner of the dark room. You clutched Seungmin’s hand tighter, feeling the anxiety rise in your chest. Just as the atmosphere on screen grew ominous, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by loud banging on the door.

Your heart leapt into your throat, and suddenly, Hyunjin and Lee Know burst into the room, wearing terrifying masks, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Your mind blanked. The fear that rushed through your veins overwhelmed you. It wasn’t just a scare—it was real, tangible terror. A deep, uncontrollable panic clawed at your chest, constricting your breathing. You gasped for air but found none, your vision blurring as your body went cold. A wave of dizziness hit you, and you collapsed onto the couch, trembling violently, tears streaming down your face.

Seungmin turned to you, his playful grin disappearing the moment he saw your expression.

“Y/N?” he called, panic in his voice as he reached for you.

But you were already retreating inside yourself, shaking uncontrollably. The fear was too much. Your breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, and before you knew it, you were hyperventilating.

Hyunjin and Lee Know, realizing what had happened, stood frozen in horror.

“Y/N, Y/N! Breathe, please!” Seungmin urged, his voice cracking as he tried to soothe you. But nothing he said could reach you through the thick fog of panic suffocating your mind.

Through the tears blurring your vision, you looked at him, the person you trusted most, and the hurt in your voice cut him to his core.

“You… you knew about this?” you rasped, your voice trembling. “And you agreed with it?!”

The betrayal in your eyes shattered him. Seungmin shook his head, scrambling to explain, but his words felt like they were crumbling in the weight of the moment. “I—I didn’t know you would react like this, Y/N, I swear! I didn’t expect—”

But you weren’t listening. You couldn’t. You couldn’t process anything through the whirlwind of emotions suffocating you.

You shot up from the couch, stumbling toward the bathroom. “I can’t… I need space,” you choked out between sobs, barely able to breathe.

Seungmin stood there, stunned, as the door slammed shut. He wanted to follow you, to fix things, but knew you needed time. He cursed under his breath, turning toward Hyunjin and Lee Know, who were standing there, pale and shaken.

“We didn’t mean for that to happen,” Hyunjin whispered, guilt etched across his face. Lee Know looked just as remorseful, biting his lip as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin muttered, though the apology felt hollow, useless.

Lee Know nodded quietly. “We should go. We’ll apologize tomorrow,” he said, voice low, before the two of them left, leaving Seungmin alone in the aftermath of their prank.

Seungmin walked to the bathroom door, resting his head against it. “Y/N… I’m so sorry,” he called softly. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’ll sleep on the couch, okay? Please, just… come out whenever you’re ready.”

But the only response he received was silence.

After what felt like an eternity, Seungmin sank down to the floor by the couch, curling into himself. The room was too quiet now, and the guilt in his chest only grew heavier with every minute that passed. He hated himself for going along with the prank, for not understanding how deeply it would affect you.

Time slipped by, and exhaustion weighed down on him. Eventually, sleep overtook him, though it was far from peaceful.

You finally emerged from the bathroom an hour later, your heart still heavy, but your panic subsiding into a dull ache. As you stepped into the dimly lit living room, your eyes softened when you saw Seungmin. He wasn’t on the couch as he’d said he’d be—instead, he was curled up on the floor, his face tucked into his arms.

Your chest tightened, and a flood of emotions hit you. Despite how upset you were, seeing him there, so broken, tugged at your heart. He didn’t mean to hurt you. You knew that. But it still hurt.

You knelt down beside him, gently shaking his shoulder. “Seungmin,” you whispered, your voice soft but hoarse from crying.

He stirred, blinking his eyes open, confusion flashing across his face before it quickly turned to concern. “Y/N… I’m so sorry,” he started immediately, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I didn’t know it would be that bad. I should’ve never agreed to it, and I—”

You held up your hand, shaking your head. “Seungmin, stop. I know… I know you didn’t mean for it to get that bad. I just… I got scared. I wasn’t expecting it, and it felt like too much.”

“I feel terrible, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I don’t want to—”

You stopped him again, standing up and shaking your head. “No… it’s fine. I just need to sleep.”

Without another word, you climbed into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself. Seungmin sighed softly and, as promised, settled on the couch, his body still heavy with regret.

In the middle of the night, a nightmare ripped you out of sleep. Your body jerked, heart racing again, but this time, it wasn’t from a prank. It was the lingering fear, the residual panic. And as much as you wanted to handle it alone, you couldn’t.

There was only one person who could make it better.

You got out of bed, making your way toward the couch, where Seungmin was sound asleep. You gently shook him awake, and his eyes opened in an instant.

“Y/N?” he asked, still groggy, but concern quickly replacing his confusion.

“I had a nightmare,” you whispered, your voice small and fragile. “I… I need you.”

Seungmin sat up, his heart breaking at how vulnerable you looked. Without hesitation, he opened his arms, and you fell into them, burying your face in his chest. He held you close, gently rubbing your back, whispering soft reassurances.

“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here. I’m so sorry for what happened. I should’ve protected you.”

You took a shaky breath, pulling back to look at him. “I was upset because I trusted you, Seungmin. I didn’t expect you to agree to something like that.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I was stupid. I didn’t think. I’ll never do anything like that again. I promise.”

For a long moment, you just looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes breaking through the walls you had built up since the prank. Finally, you nodded, resting your head back against his chest.

“I forgive you,” you whispered, feeling the tension in your chest ease just a little.

Seungmin held you tighter, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

And in that moment, despite everything, you believed him.