#anxiety attack tw

[irondad-defensesquad]

To be yourself is all that you can do

Also posted on AO3!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - self-harm (not explicit), past temporary character death, anxiety attacks, and grief/mourning.

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

Someone falls to pieces, sleeping all alone Someone kills the pain, spinning in the silence She finally drifts away Someone gets excited in a chapel yard, catches a bouquet Another lays a dozen white roses on a grave Yeah, and to be yourself is all that you can do Hey, to be yourself is all that you can do - Be Yourself, Audioslave

Peter forgets where he is, until he hears a little girl’s concerned voice.

“Petey, did you get hurt?”

That’s when he realizes he hasn’t covered his arms under his sleeves, and Morgan is seeing all the ugly cuts filling his skin. Peter also goes cold when he remembers that Tony and Pepper are home, though they don’t seem to pay attention. They’re bantering in the kitchen. In fact, they were all cooking together when Peter lied that he was tired so he would go to the couch. Tony could always read him like an open book, but he was having a good time with his family, and Peter at least didn’t ruin it.

So, Peter went to the bathroom. And then he went to the couch, silent as a rock.

But now the worst outcome has come true. Peter has tainted Morgan’s innocence. How is he going to explain it to her? She’s so young to know about self-harm and how little sense it makes.

“I’ll get Daddy-!” Morgan is about to jump out of the couch to run to the kitchen and he’s going to ruin Tony’s happiness–

“No! I-I mean-!” Peter lets out, thankfully not too loudly. “It’s fine, I swear.” The cuts still burn a little, wearing the knit sweater Tony got him is quite itchy. “I have super healing, remember? They’ll be gone soon.”

If anything, they’re not healing properly.

Morgan can probably tell.

“Do you need ice? Band-aids?” She suggests. “You’ll need a lot of them though…”

“I-It’s okay, Mo. I can handle it.”

Peter gulps, glancing at the kitchen. He can hear Neil Young playing. It’s not like the AC/DC Tony would blast in the workshop… Peter might miss it, but this little life he built here with Pepper and their daughter is nice.

“Just promise me you won’t tell your parents, okay?” Peter asks (begs). He knows it’s unfair to do this to Morgan after what she has just seen. “I don’t want them to freak out or anything.”

She doesn’t look as shocked anymore but she looks very sad for him.

“Okay,” Morgan replies simply. Meaning it.

Peter doesn’t know why Morgan isn’t asking anything. She doesn’t question where the cuts come from. She doesn’t ask why Peter did this to himself. She doesn’t get mad. She doesn’t cry.

Instead…

Morgan wraps her small arms around Peter’s neck. That makes the boy’s eyes tear up, but he has to swallow them for now.

“There, there,” Morgan pats his back. That action makes him snort. She’s imitating Baymax, since they watched Big Hero 6 the other day.

“T-Thanks.”

Morgan really does love him. He’s her “super big brother”.

Then she lets go and smiles at him. Morgan is so cute. Peter would’ve squeezed her but his arms hurt and he doesn’t want to hurt her, too.

Suddenly, her eyes sparkle.

“You wait here!” Morgan says, suddenly sprinting away.

It seems like she’s running upstairs.

Peter frowns, trying to figure out what she’s up to. At the same time, he sees his cuts again, glaring at them. He feels so stupid for relapsing, but he had such an awful night of sleep and he needed to distract himself, he couldn’t have an anxiety attack when everyone else wants to have fun–

Morgan has returned with a fuzzy blanket that she probably got from Peter’s room, as well as a little stuffed bunny that she gave him.

“Here! Now you’re warm and you’re not alone!” Morgan says proudly.

Peter laughs, rather broken. He hugs his bunny. “Aww, thank you.”

“Now one last thing!” The girl runs again, but she goes to the kitchen instead.

Morgan is likely looking for something as she runs all over the kitchen to get specific things. She’s even panting at this point.

“Whoa there, speedy, what’s all the rush for?” Tony questions, teasingly.

“I need choco milk!”

“Nice try, young lady, dinner will be ready in less than five minutes,” Pepper points out. She must be crossing her arms, even if she’s not too serious, either.

“No, it’s an emergency! Petey is sad, so he needs choco milk so he doesn’t feel so sad anymore!”

Oh f…

Okay. Okay, at the very least Morgan didn’t tell them Peter is hurt.

And is it really her fault? Morgan just wants to help. And she’s doing the right thing getting the adults, too. No child should be forced to take care of a teenager who can’t handle his own brain.

Anyway, the happy environment is definitely over. Peter can sense the tension coming from Pepper and Tony. They might even be looking at each other to figure out what to do next.

Peter stays quiet.

“Hey, Morguna,” Tony resumes his sweet dad tone, “how about you and Mom get Peter a really nice book while I make the choco milk?”

“Yeah! Story for Petey!” Morgan loves the idea.

Two people leave the kitchen. “I’ll be back, Petey!” Morgan reassures from afar.

With the mother and daughter upstairs, the floor seems awfully silent. Save for the music.

Peter can also hear Tony sighing to himself.

He hates that.

The man seems to handle both the chocolate milk and dinner. Peter knows his mentor is going to confront him soon, and his heart is beating faster. And the teen knows he can’t run to the restroom again.

Peter spends so long overthinking that when the steps are coming towards him, he hides in the blanket to pretend he’s not there. Wow, he used to do this so much as a kid. Especially when he was sad and Uncle Ben would come and find him…

“... Hello, strange lump. I’m looking for my teenager who could use some chocolate milk right now,” Tony jokes. “Can you get him for me?”

Peter pretends he didn’t feel warm when Tony called him his teenager.

Gulping again, the boy comes out.

“Um, hi.”

“Hey, kid. Brought you milk.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

As Tony hands him the cup, he’s actually cupping both of Peter’s hands, too. Tony is kneeling down in front of him. Peter doesn’t dare look up.

“What happened?” Tony whispers.

“I dunno. I had a bad night.” Peter is not completely lying.

“Nightmare?”

The teen shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, Pete, you can let me know when you can’t sleep.”

The gentle reminder, without a hint of annoyance, certainly won’t help Peter hide his tears. He looks down, staring at his hidden lower arms.

“It was stupid and… I didn’t want you to know.”

Peter doesn’t want to see Tony’s sad face. He doesn’t want to be reminded of someone who looked out for him that bore the same expression. The sadness of unconditional love, despite all of Peter’s mistakes.

“Hey,” Tony calls, “look at me.”

The teenager almost shakes his head, knowing it would be rude.

Knowing he’ll just regret avoiding Tony, too.

The man is smiling.

“I love you, Peter. Pepper and Morgan love you, too. We’re here for you through anything, including your lows,” Tony tells him.

With that, he kisses Peter’s forehead without a second thought.

Tony has always been affectionate, but now, it’s like he’s opened himself more. That likely has to do with Morgan.

Everything has changed so much…

“Now, I just want you to get warm and get ready for a story,” the man breaks him out of his trance. “Does that sound good?”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

Soon, Morgan and Pepper are back with quite a handful of books.

“Whoa, that’s a lot you got there,” Tony comments.

“I didn’t know what to pick! There are so many good ones! Maybe Petey can tell us which one he likes the most,” Morgan suggests.

“Okay, you kids settle down now. You leave the stories to the pros.”

Pepper rolls her eyes. “I’m obviously the pro here.”

Morgan joins Peter on the couch, snuggling against him, the two protected by the blanket. Tony and Pepper sit on the floor, all the books lying around. They show Peter some of them. Of course, the one about the spider that couldn’t web attracts him.

The spider could stick to the walls like any other spider, but she couldn’t make any of the beautiful webs. She felt lonely and alienated. Eventually she finds a group of spiders that have other “flaws” that accept her the way she is.

Tony and Pepper will make silly voices together. Morgan always laughs or gives snarky comments like her parents do. Peter doesn’t really say much, but he feels his body relaxing more and more.

They don’t read all the books, mostly because they still have to eat dinner which has gotten cold. They reheat it and eat together. Peter can feel their eyes on him but he can’t blame them. Other than that, it’s pretty calm.

Morgan is tired after doing everything to make Peter feel better, so she goes to bed rather early (even if she tries to convince them otherwise). Once Pepper and Tony tuck her in, Peter shows up. Morgan is already with her eyes closed, breathing in and out…

Peter grins, kissing her forehead.

“Thanks, Morgan. You’re my hero, too.”

“You’re welcome, Petey-pie…” the girl says sleepily.

Peter smooths her hair gently, soon turning off the lamp for her.

When he leaves, he can tell Pepper and Tony were watching them.

The two plus Peter hang around in the living room. The adults are talking more. Peter is actually in the middle of them, like he’s their kid, too.

Sometimes they ask him stuff to include him. Peter might unintentionally make funny comments every now and then. Pepper laughs out loud, mostly because Peter is just telling her an embarrassing thing Tony did years ago. The man’s look of betrayal makes it all the funnier.

Peter faintly hears Harvest Moon by Neil Young in the background.

The whole time, the spider-teen tries not to scratch his arms and likely tear them apart again. It must mean that his wounds still haven’t healed. And he feels like he can’t just leave to go to the restroom again. Peter is really bad at hiding things and Tony is more than familiar with it.

Millions of “what-ifs” race in a loop inside Peter’s head, which has him not realize the snapping fingers in front of him.

“... hello? Peter?” Tony calls him.

“Oh? Hey. Hi. Sorry. I totally spaced out right now.”

“You’ve been scratching your arm for a bit… Is the sweater bothering you?”

“No! No, it’s just a tic.”

Tony and Pepper eye each other again. Peter wishes he could hide in the blanket lump and never, ever come out again.

“I’m, uhhhh… going to get some water,” the boy panics, leaving the couch even though he doesn’t want to. But he does need a glass of water.

Neil Young is the main thing he hears in the kitchen. Peter, however, can tell the adults in the living room are whispering to themselves. He tries to distract himself with his phone; there aren’t new messages from Aunt May or Ned. They’re both out of town, the former is with her friends she hasn’t seen in five years, and Ned is spending time with his family as he should. Peter doesn’t know about MJ since she doesn’t often open up about her personal life.

Maybe some part of him wants to run away right now. Literally right now. He can do that. But Tony and Pepper are going to look for him. Morgan is going to blame herself because she can’t heal Peter’s wounds – the mental and the physical.

Peter finishes the water in one swallow, nearly choking. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen.

Thus, he returns to the living room. Pepper is standing up while Tony remains on the couch. She sees Peter and smiles.

“I’m going to bed,” she announces. “You two don’t stay up too late, alright?”

“I would never,” Tony jokes.

Peter smiles nervously.

Pepper approaches him and gently kisses his head.

“Good night, honey.”

Honey…

“Hey, don’t I get a kiss, too?” Tony whines.

Pepper rolls her eyes but she kisses her husband, too.

“Um, good night, Pepper,” Peter waves awkwardly and she waves back.

Finally, she’s going upstairs, leaving Tony and Peter on their own.

“So kid, wanna spend some ‘us’ time now?” The hero wonders.

Peter, for some reason, cannot answer right away.

He knows that if he goes to bed, he won’t be able to sleep.

But he doesn’t want Tony to know about his arms.

He has no way out.

“... you okay?” Tony softens his voice a lot more.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey now, I don’t bite.”

“I-I know.”

Tony is trying to be that jokey man from before, but his worry only grows. Peter knows that Tony is not going to bed anytime soon BECAUSE of Peter. He’ll stay there forever. And ever.

For once, the boy returns to the couch, but this time he sits on the other corner of the couch, away from Tony. He’s hugging himself as a pathetic form of comfort. And he knows that’s only going to hurt Tony further. Why is Peter like this?

Regardless, the man is stretching an arm, inviting Peter to come closer.

The latter wants to cry.

“Kid?” Tony urges. “What do you need right now?”

Peter gulps. “I-I…”

He can’t hide the sniff.

“I dunno. B-But I don’t want to go to bed,” he replies. “I-I don’t want to go home, either.” I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone again.

“It’s alright, buddy. You can stay here.”

“I-I feel like I’m getting in the way.”

“You aren’t.”

“It’s like I don’t belong here, Mr. Stark.”

These last words feel like a stab to the heart.

“I’ve been away for five years and- and when I come back, suddenly I find out you have a daughter and you’re not living upstate anymore, and our workshop is gone, and there isn’t hard rock playing in the house… a-and it’s not like this life you built here is bad , it’s just… I wasn’t here for all of it. And you look so happy, Mr. Stark. You have an actual family. And I’m just… here.”

Peter’s vision is blurring.

“... you miss the life we had, right?” Tony whispers.

The teenager nods, trying to contain his sobs.

“Like the nights I spent at the Compound… the movies we watched together… that awesome, open view… all those big rooms… Happy, Rhodey, even Vision who didn’t always show up… When we built stuff together and we had all the bots with us, and when we couldn’t sleep we would just stargaze…” the more Peter talks, the more he breaks. “But now? Everything’s changed. A-And they’re not bad changes! ‘Cause this place here is nice, I-I love Morgan, I love Pepper, but it’s not the same and I feel like I–”

Tony has slowly scooted closer, still not touching Peter.

“... I came back wrong. I… I’m still the same sixteen-year-old from before, but somehow I’m not. You still grew up without me and it doesn’t feel right.”

The man is completely silent, but Peter can tell he’s listening, and every word that comes out of the boy must be killing him inside.

“You guys look so happy together, and with me here… I dunno, I feel like I’m ruining everything.”

“Peter…”

“... I ruined Morgan specifically.”

Tony frowns. “What do you mean?”

Peter freezes and swallows. Now he has to tell the truth.

“Mr. Stark, I… I did… I did something stupid. Something really stupid. The thing is, what happened last night… is that suddenly this dread will fill my gut and it’s like I’m”– he knows it’ll be awful to say –“I’m going to turn into dust at any moment.”

Tony’s tension rises even if he doesn’t say anything.

“And I usually just distract myself, and I can’t sleep anymore because what if I never wake up again?” Peter argues. “But then it happened again in the kitchen when you guys were having fun, and I rushed to the restroom before you noticed and I…”

He sighs deeply, clutching his own arm.

When he pulls up his sleeve, the cuts still look ugly. They don’t look any more healed. The sweater is probably making it worse.

Sensing the horror coming from Tony, Peter cries harder.

“M-Morgan saw this! She saw all of this, and I was so stupid, she’s just a child, she wasn’t supposed to know. S-She didn’t ask any questions but I know she probably wondered why I did this. She just wanted to make me feel better. And she can’t, and it’s not her fault. But what if she blames herself? I even told her to keep this a secret from you. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done this in the first place. I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.”

As Peter sobs, quiet enough so Morgan and Pepper won’t hear it upstairs, he can sense Tony leaning closer. What is he going to do?

“... It’s not healing,” Tony observes.

“I-I don’t know why. It should’ve healed by now.”

“Hey, I can help my way. You don’t have to force yourself to feel pain.”

“B-But I did this to myself–”

“You don’t deserve it. You’re suffering, Pete. You did it because it made sense at that moment. But even if it wasn’t the best choice… you don’t have to beat yourself up for it.”

How is Tony not angry with him?

While he looks broken, he’s also determined.

“Alright, follow me, kid.”

Tony stands up and heads to the kitchen. He tells Peter to sit on a chair as he likely grabs a first-aid kit. He takes a piece of cotton and likely applies salina.

“You let me know if it burns, okay? I’ll do it slowly.”

Peter may wince, but it’s quite familiar. He used to get hurt pretty often as a kid. Guess that hasn’t changed since.

“After this, you should change into something more comfortable. That sweater isn’t doing good for you.”

“I didn’t want to take it off because you made it.”

“I’m not going to get mad over a sweater, kid. If it’s bothering you, then you don’t have to keep wearing it.”

While saying all of this, Tony’s entire focus is on his arms.

Peter realizes something and tears up again. Some tears might fall.

“Does it hurt?” His mentor asks, concerned he might be making things worse.

“N-No, no, it’s just… I-I don’t remember the last time… we had this.”

I don’t remember the last time you took care of me like this.

Definitely five years ago. Those late nights where Peter came from a bad patrol and Tony had to treat him, along with the doctors he trusted to help Peter. But most of those nights, it was just mentor and mentee, both trying not to mess up but still messing up, and yet learning better.

Peter feels so childish for this. It’s like he hasn’t had parental affection in forever.

Tony chuckles sadly. “Yeah, me neither.”

He looks mournful.

Peter tries to be quiet.

“... I missed this, too.”

The teen looks at Tony, finally.

“I mean, obviously I don’t like that you’re hurt, it’s mostly… I do this all the time with Morgan. I would never trade her or this life here for anything. But in the back of my head… I miss our workshop too, buddy. I miss our sleepovers. Everything seemed so simple back then, right? And all these years, I always had you in my mind. When we bought this cabin… I made sure to have an extra room. Not a mere guest room, but a place for you.”

Tony has stopped treating Peter’s cuts for now, as they’re sharing a meaningful gaze.

“My family… Pepper, Morgan, Rhodey, and Happy were all here. But you weren’t. It never felt complete to me. To any of us, honestly. I didn’t want you to be forgotten. That’s why I told Morgan all about you. We still celebrated your past birthdays. I hoped you’d be here again so we could be together again.”

The hero’s eyes are filled with water.

“I’m glad you’re here with us, Pete. But I understand how you feel. You haven’t had the time to mourn what you lost. You just suddenly returned and all that life you knew was gone.”

Peter tenses. “I-I hope I’m not being ungrateful or anything–”

“No, you’re not. You’re right to feel sad.”

Tony stares at him for a while, until he resumes his job. Peter just watches him in the meantime, looking more exhausted. The boy replays all the things he said…

Somewhere in the back of his head, Peter always had the impression Tony didn’t miss him and would’ve probably been okay without him. And he only welcomed Peter again because Tony didn’t want to ignore him. Or he did it out of pity.

Now, Peter feels stupid for even feeling this way.

After drying his arms with the cotton, Tony seems to apply some ointment onto the injuries, slowly massaging Peter’s arms. Not a word is shared between them.

When the man is over, he sighs in relief.

“You should let them breathe now,” Tony tells him. “If they don’t get better in the morning, we’ll figure something out.”

Peter looks at the cuts, which are still red. At the very least, they’re not burning and itching like before.

“Thanks…” he mumbles.

“You want me to get you another sweater?”

“N-No, no… I'm not cold.”

Peter takes off the one he’s currently wearing, revealing an old t-shirt beneath. The kind that has science puns.

Tony takes the knit sweater for him, folding it neatly. Following that, he puts away the first-aid kit. Peter waits in the chair. Later, they return to the couch. This time, Peter is glued to Tony. The music has been lowered but it’s still there.

The teen, however, wants to cry again.

He knows he can’t change the past and that he has to accept it at one point. But it didn’t have to be this painful. There wasn’t any point. And while he may be with Tony now, Peter will never know if something will separate them again. He doesn’t want to deal with that again.

He can’t stop thinking about it.

Tony, of course, notices. With his arm wrapped around Peter, he rubs the latter’s up and down.

“It’s okay, buddy. You can let it out.”

That way, he cries what is still repressed inside him. Tony allows him, making sure Peter doesn’t cry alone.

Eventually, Peter is lying his head on Tony’s lap, the latter smoothing the former’s hair. Peter has relaxed significantly, though knowing that anxiety is going to bite him back later. In fact, he’s already wondering what time it is. He assumes it must be late.

Tony senses it. “It’s alright, kid. No rush.”

“You should go to bed…”

“I’m not sleepy. Are you?”

“Not really. There’s too much in my head.”

“Same here.”

Peter doesn’t want to be selfish and take Tony down with him, but he figures that’s not true. Tony Stark can do whatever he wants.

“You want to stay like this?” The man asks. “Or maybe we could watch something. Your choice.”

“Hmm… maybe.”

Tony snorts as Peter melts in the touch.

“You really needed this, huh?”

“Yeah…”

Peter faintly hears a remote and the TV speaking at a lower volume. He supposes Tony turned off the music for good. Some goofy cartoon might be airing judging by the noises. Tony switches channels for a bit. Meanwhile, he keeps running his fingers through Peter’s curls, not losing any concentration.

If he’s not mistaken, Tony might have put Finding Nemo. Which they already watched years ago. And it’s right on the scene where Marlin finds the only remaining egg from the barracuda attack.

The soundtrack for this movie is nice.

As well as Marlin’s reassurances and Tony’s presence.

Those two aren’t too different from each other, honestly.

Peter doesn’t actually see the movie now, but he hears the whole plot. He remembers it well.

His eyes are closed.

It’s only the movie, Peter and Tony.

It’s just them again.

Even if everything else has changed… that at least hasn’t.

Peter is home.

He finally feels home.

When he wakes up again, he realizes Tony has lied them both down on the couch. And the man is snoring.

Honestly, as loud as it is, Peter doesn’t mind it.

He just falls asleep once more.

Eventually, Morgan joins them, lying on top of Peter.

Pepper might take pictures.

And Tony complains he’s being crushed.

Peter’s cuts have gotten better. They haven’t quite disappeared, but they’re not red anymore.

As he eats breakfast with Tony, Pepper, and Morgan… Peter realizes he’ll be okay. And sometimes he won’t be okay. But he’ll get through.

#lotus speaks #irondad #ironfam #fics #my fics #self-harm tw #self harm tw #sh tw #death mention tw #grief tw #anxiety attack tw #vent fic #suicide mention tw #(in the song lyrics)

[thesoulesscollection]

(Request) Keep Me Stable

Request: I have a request, could you do one with Reg & Carol right after Rhm was defeated and then a timeskip to after he's even given his cybernetics. CopperRight

Maybe not my best work but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you feel the same while reading it. 

Blood. So much. It fills his vision. Reginald felt sick to his stomach. 

"... Oh, shit…" When he hears another voice, familiar, though he could barely hear it as he struggled to breath. "... Regi-?" 

Everything is stained with blood. The floor, walls, even the ceiling up above. Reginald didn't want to think where else it laid as he stumbled back. 

He was shell shocked by the entire ordeal. How can he not be?

His long-term partner, his soulmate, is left in critical condition. A man he loved dear to his heart, he can't be left alone like this, was left for dead, torn apart at the seams, and is now clinging onto life. 

"Reginald" Again he hears her elegant voice, more clearer than the last, deeply soothing, able to command the room, it puts him at ease. "Please, stay with me" 

A firm hand grips his shoulder, she jerks him from the horrible scene into a separate room so he can only focus on her. Throughout he can barely hear her voice coming in one ear out the other, as his vision is a dizzying blur, mind left in an unfocused mush. Until a very concerned Carol is in view. 

"He. H-he's… Rig-" That's when Reginald breaks, speaking incoherently. 

"I know. I know" She whispers so no one else can hear them. "We got him. They're taking good care of him as we speak" 

When attempting to turn his head to look if they were indeed doing what she says, Carol tenderly cups his head he instinctively leans in. 

"He's going to be fine. I know it and so do you" She went to reassure, wiping the tears away. Buried in the back of his mind, he's embarrassed for showing weakness. For being such a coward. He can't even do his title as a leader correctly without almost killing his right hand. 

"H-how. How can you be so sure?" 

Reginald heaves, broken sobs choked back, hunched over, palpitations in his chest, any moment it could either sway in or out of their favor. Death like always would be around that corner now, eager, ready to steal his love from him in an underhanded swoop. 

"I know so. He's tough" Hesitant to believe her is a severe understatement, Reginald fought to not cry. "He won't dare leave your side" 

***

They've been close friends, considering one another as family for years Carol could tell something was up. When she entered his office she saw the man, exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes, and laying his head, messy hair askew, down on the dark oak desk. 

"He's going to be alright, Reginald" She said in a low, calming tone as if she read his mind.  

"I know he will, Carol... He's in stable enough condition after the surgery" As she moves to sit next to him, he shrugs his shoulders. "But I worry" 

"You're allowed to. We didn't think he'll make it but the doctor did her work well" 

Reginald sat up in his seat, nowhere close to reassured, thin fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "She did. Forever grateful for her work. Nonetheless I regret my choice"

"Why though? He's alive. Doing better then he's done before"

"I know, Carol, dear, I know. What will he say when he wakes up and sees how much he'd changed. I can't bear the idea. Everything will be different" 

"Do you think he would be mad at you? For me, I think he'll be more than grateful" 

They sat in silence together where Reginald balls then unclenched his fists on his lap. "I really hope so. I only want to do what's best for him" 

"You are. He's going to be fine" 

#Requested Fic #Ask me Anything #Send Me Asks #Thsc Fic #Thsc Au #CopperRight #Reginald Copperbottom #Right Hand Man #Carol Cross #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Blood Mention Tw #Minor Character Injury Tw #Thsc Reginald Copperbottom #Thac Carol Cross #Mentioned Right Hand Man #Henry Stickmin Collection #The Henry Stickmin Collection #Emotional Turmoil #Anxiety Attack Tw #Platonic Relationships

[mcrcki]

they were going to be fucking sick-- their heart was still pounding in her ears, hands shaking as she finally escaped into the crowd, she didn't care who she found first, but she needed to find someone. the crowd luckily parted as they saw the panic in her face, the frantic 'excuse me', 'move', 'please move' helping get her away from everyone faster. by the time omega was near the exit to the museum, she'd finally found hunter on the edge of the crowd, and the moment her eyes landed on her brother, it all boiled over. panic and fear bubbled over at the sob ripping through her throat as she ran, closing the distance between them, breathing heavily through all of it, colliding with hunter with an impact that might have thrown anyone else off balance. "cad bane--" she barely manages to even get the name out, fighting through the fear.

@mischiefxmuses for hunter

#mischiefxmuses #o. interactions #omega || hunter #o. event #hwminievent6 #event | valentine's ball #panic mention tw #anxiety attack tw

[slytherinlesbians]

Whumtober 2023, Day 8: Outnumbered

fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid, luke alvez, emily prentiss | ship: luke alvez/spencer reid | trigger warnings: anxiety attack | content: spencer is anxious, luke is there for him, post prison spencer, austistic spencer | word count: 1k.

“Spence?” 

Spencer looks up from where he’s crammed himself into the corner of Rossi’s office, between the wall and the filing cabinet. Even from a distance, he can see the anxiety coming off of Spencer in waves. He’s trembling and his breaths are coming out in shallow, uneven gasps. Luke shuts the door gently behind him and moves slowly towards Spencer. He hovers nearby for a moment, and Spencer just looks at him blankly, before eventually he makes a decision and crouches down in front of Spencer. 

“Hey. Rossi said you wanted to see me?” Luke keeps his tone even, trying not to let any of his concern bleed into his words too much. Spencer stares at Luke for a moment, then blinks back sudden hot tears that press against his eyes. He looks away, chin against his shoulder, trying to draw in a deep breath but failing miserably. His shaking hands are wrapped around his knees which are drawn to his chest, and he occasionally stops and starts rocking back and forth to no real rhythm. 

“What’s up?” Luke asks gently. “What can I do for you?” 

Spencer shrugs. “Don’t - don’t know,” he says eventually, his words stilted by his shallow breathing. “Don’t know - what’s wrong with me.”

“You seem anxious,” Luke says carefully. “You haven’t been sleeping well. That might not be helping whatever’s going on.” 

“Maybe,” Spencer says quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and trying, and failing, again, to take another deeper breath. 

“Okay,” Luke says slowly, “okay, listen. You don’t need to know what’s wrong right now, okay? For now, we’re just gonna focus on breathing. Breathe with me, yeah? Can I take your hand?” 

Spencer nods quickly, keeping his eyes closed, and Luke takes one of his hands gently. He shuffles forward, coming to sit in front of Spencer cross legged. He gently guides Spencer’s hand up to his chest, and begins to breathe deeply. Spencer does his best to follow, his breathing labored and stilted, but eventually starting to slow and deepen. 

They sit like that for almost fifteen minutes before Spencer’s breathing slows completely back to normal, and after a moment, Luke places Spencer’s hand back with his other one, still tucked around his knees. Spencer’s eyes stay shut for another few minutes, and Luke waits patiently in front of him. He’s concerned with just how long it took Spencer’s anxiety to abate; he’s been tense and on edge all week, with no trigger apparent to any of his teammates. He knows the others are worried about Spencer - hell, so is he. But Spencer doesn’t seem to know anymore than anyone else about why he’s been so anxious. It’s been a few months since his reinstatement, and it’s certainly not been a smooth ride, but the last month or so Spencer seems to have been doing remarkably well - up until now. 

He shakes himself from his thoughts as Spencer opens his eyes and looks tiredly over at Luke. 

“Alright?” 

Spencer shrugs again. “M’ okay. Bit better, I guess.” He doesn’t sound convinced, and his voice is laced with exhaustion. This close to him, Luke can see the dark bags beneath his eyes. 

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you back to your place,” Luke says kindly, but Spencer flinches away, like Luke has yelled. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head and looking down. “I’m fine. We’re just doing paperwork, I can - I want to stay. Here.” 

“You’re doing the thing again,” Luke says, making sure to keep his voice low and gentle. “You’re overcompensating.” 

“No, I’m not. I just have work to do,” Spencer snaps. His face immediately falls, and Luke can tell he regrets the sharp tone that gave away how tightly wound he is. 

Luke sighs. “Listen. I know that maybe staying here and continuing working on your case files and whatever else you’re doing might make you feel better for a short time - make you feel like you’re doing just fine, because I know you hate it when you feel like you’re behind everyone else, or like your needs are slowing you down. But in the long run, it’s just gonna make things worse. You’re gonna burn out, Spencer, and I’m not just gonna sit by and let it happen.” 

Spencer’s silent for a moment, and Luke can see the gears turning in his head as his quick mind processes the pros and cons of this scenario. 

“I’ll have to ask Emily,” he mumbles eventually, looking up at Luke, who nods. 

“I’ll flick her a message,” Luke says, pulling out his phone. “You know, she mentioned to me this morning that maybe you could consider taking some time off? At the very least, time out of the field. You could stay here with Garcia.” 

“No,” Spencer says. “I’m fine.” 

There’s a short silence while Luke fires off a message to Emily, and then he looks back at Spencer. 

“Are you?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s why you’re sitting down here, like this?” 

“It’s comfortable.” 

“Okay. Remember when Hotch used to give you two days off, non negotiable, when you weren’t doing so hot?” Luke says, playing his final card. Spencer makes a face at him. 

“Yes. Is that what you’re doing to me?” 

“I’m not going to force you,” Luke says, “but Emily and I both think it would be for the best. You’re kind of outnumbered here.” 

Spencer’s quiet again for a moment, thinking hard, and Emily texts back. 

No stress, get home safe and let me know the plan later.

“Okay,” Spencer says, so quietly that Luke almost misses it. He jerks his head up from his phone screen and looks at him in surprise. Spencer so rarely allows himself time off that when he does, Luke knows it must be bad. Though this doesn’t make him feel a whole lot better about the situation, he’s glad, at the very least, Spencer is listening to what he needs. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re coming with me, right?” 

“‘Course.”

“Okay,” he says, and gives Luke a weak smile. “I can deal with that.”

#whumtober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #criminal minds #fanfiction #anxiety attack tw #ralvez #spencer reid #luke alvez #the bau

[kailali]

Toji x Reader (Reader Having a Panic Attack)

WARNINGS: gn!reader, panic attack, anxiety

NOTE: I feel like Toji would be intimately familiar with panic attacks, but would have had to deal with them entirely alone growing up, and also is hyper-aware of the fight-or-flight instinct that some people have, and the way he supports reader in this is based off that. I know panic attacks are a very personal experience and different things work for different people. This is just one interpretation of assistance that may or may not work for someone having a panic attack.

requested by: anon

Toji sits on the floor directly in front of you, angling his head so that he can see your face. Your eyes are unfocused, your breath shuddering and catching desperately, caught in a self-perpetuating cycle that feels hopelessly endless and alone.

“I’m gonna touch you, but I won’t hurt you.” His voice is low and calm, but clear. Taking a second to gauge your response before making his move, he gently but firmly removes your hands from where they’re grasping your own arms, nails digging little crescent moons into the skin.

Your fingers grasp desperately at his hands, and he squeezes reassuringly in return.

“We’re gonna breathe,” he instructs you, “just try to follow me.”

He begins to breathe slowly and deeply, keeping his focus on your face, watching you carefully. You try to follow his breathing, but with each inhale your chest tightens and your breath catches, causing your anxiety to shoot even higher.

“Shh, s’okay. It takes some time. I’m here.” Toji’s thumb rubs gently back and forth on the back of your hand before he presses your palm flat against his chest, holding it there.

You can feel his heart beating under your palm, can feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes. With that single thread of salvation to grasp, the fog enveloping your brain clears the tiniest bit, and your eyes lock with Toji’s, focusing on the vivid green.

You don’t know if it takes two minutes or twenty, but his gaze never wavers, and his breathing never changes. His heartbeat is steady and reassuring under your palm, and slowly but surely your breath slows and steadies to match his.

He observes your pupils, your pulse, and your breathing – making sure that the panic attack has truly passed, before pulling you in closer to him. Your head aches and you’re exhausted both mentally and physically, but Toji’s embrace feels strong – safe – as you relax into his chest.

“S’okay… I’m here.”

#Toji #Fushiguro Toji #Toji Fushiguro #Toji x Reader #soft!Toji #panic attack tw #anxiety attack tw #anxiety tw #Jujutsu Kaisen #JJK

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Heeellloooo darling! Welcome back!

Can you do modern Agni x reader, where the reader is having a massive anxiety attack because of home and work stress and Agni is helping them through it? Sorry I'm projecting...🙃

aaaaaaa I hope you're doing better now sweetie!!! <3

wishing you all the best! I hope this is a comfort for you =)

AGNI finds you curled up on the sofa when he comes home.

You’re pressed into the corner, appearing to have basically compressed yourself into a ball ball. You have both arms around yourself, knees to your chest, and he can hear that you’re not breathing quite normally. It doesn’t sound like you’re in danger of your breathing stopping, though, so he thinks it must be something else.

He sits down quickly, taking care not to make any big movements. “Jaan? Are you alright?”

When you shake your head, it’s a jerky motion, almost robotic. Sort of like you’re forcing yourself to do something to answer him. “N… no… I feel… I don’t feel right.”

“No?” God, he hates seeing you like this. Then again, surely no one likes seeing anybody they love suffering. Sometimes there isn’t much he can do, but he doesn’t have enough information yet to know whether or not he can do anything this time. “What doesn’t feel right, my love? Can you talk to me?”

There’s an audible swallow from you. “I… I don’t know. My heart’s racing… I-I’m… my breathing is… I feel shaky. It just hit me… everything… everything feels like so much… I-I can’t… I feel like I’m drowning in everything.”

Ah. He has an idea of what’s going on. Of course, that doesn’t mean he thinks he can help. He can certainly try, however. “Mh… everything? Work?”

You nod. “Work, and… and everything else going on. Not ― like, not you or ― I just…” You shake your head, hugging yourself tighter. “Everything else. It just… I feel like I can’t calm down, like I just… I can’t…”

Sensing your frustration to express your feelings, Agni pushes himself a bit closer to you on the sofa. “Is it alright if I touch you, jaan? Can I hold you, or do you think that will make you feel worse?”

“No,” you murmur, “you could never make things worse. I… I don’t know, try it and I’ll see?”

He scoots himself over, and gently wraps his arms around you. Even if he didn’t know you by now, to you it seems like he could never be anything but careful with anyone. Almost immediately, you melt into him, doing your absolute best to relax. It’s not easy. Everything still feels like an inescapable mountain trying to crush you.

The pressure of Agni’s arms around you doesn’t feel like pressure. It doesn’t feel like an added stress; it feels like he’s trying to take some of the weight off you. As much as you both know he can’t fix everything, you feel comforted that you don’t have to go through this alone.

“I’ve got you, jaan.” He keeps his voice soft, warm around you. “You can worry about things if you want, but the second that worry starts to hurt you, I want you to try to give some of that worry to me. You know I’m always here to make things easier for you if there’s any way I can, right?”

You nod, mostly because you can’t find your words. Anything you want to say is fluttering around in your stomach, barely a thought aside from the simple, I’m grateful for him, repeating on an endless loop. Tears are starting to form in your eyes now, but you think you’ll feel better after you’ve cried in his arms for a while.

“Good. All you need to do is tell me what you need, or talk to me about your feelings. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it. If not, I’ll just listen.” Agni rests his chin atop your head, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “For now, you’re overwhelmed. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Follow how I’m breathing. It might not help all your problems, and it might be hard at first, but it will help you in this moment once you do it a few times. Okay?”

You nod again. True to his word, it does take a couple of tries to mirror the pattern of his breathing ― finally, you manage to do it. And he’s right, that it doesn’t fix anything that you’re anxious about. Money problems, trouble at work, your friends and family and whatever else is going on.

Every breath seems to tell your mind to loosen your grip, though. Let go just a little. The more you match this pattern, the more your brain’s fingers slip off the thoughts.

Agni gives a small rub to your shoulder. “That’s it, jaan. You’ve got it. I want you to try to remember something, okay? When you feel overwhelmed by things like you are now. You can’t control the fact that you feel things, can you? But you do have some control. Those feelings exist inside of you. They are your feelings. You get to have the final say on how you respond to your feelings. You own them, they don’t own you.”

His hands move down, to gingerly set atop yours. “I’ll always be here for you. But if you feel things that overwhelm you when we’re apart, I want you to remember your own power. Think of your feelings as a monster that is small enough to hold in your hands. You hold that tiny monster, and you look at it, and you say, ‘You have no power over me. I have power over you, and I choose to use it.’ You tell that tiny monster, ‘You don’t get to control me.’”

In between all this, you keep breathing, and the thought of your feelings being a palm-sized monster makes you laugh a little. As bizarre as it is, maybe it will work next time. For now, this is enough.

All your problems and all your stress still exist. There’s no debating that.

Suddenly, though, Agni has reminded you how strong you really are. Even if you’re incredibly overwhelmed right now, you aren’t powerless.

You sink in against him, and you’ve started to cry, and that’s fine. It’s what you need in this moment.

“There, jaan, there. Try to rest.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Next time, you’ll be more prepared to fight the tiny monster on your own. But right now, let me chase it off. You’re going to be okay, my love.”

And, somehow, you think you will be.

#anxiety attack tw #Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Agni #reader insert #romantic #hurt/comfort #domestic #ughhhhhh I love him so much he's such a good boy!!!!! #one hell of a queue

[memorieskept]

"Neff," he chokes out the words, like his voice was a struggle to reobtain. he chokes out the words as if they were not his own, stumbling into her shop, her cafe, her life's work, and barely making it past the first few steps in before the jingle of the front door signaling its closed status causes his legs to give out on him. "Neff, I can't do this anymore," he warbles with fear thick in his voice.

he looks like he'd seen more war in one day, maybe two, than veterans had seen in decades. he looks like he'd barely taken a shower, didn't bother with his hair, and threw on some clothes and bolted out the door, to a job meeting where he got fired by a boss he loved but didn't love him. he looks bedraggled, a right mess, and he's shuddering past every breath as if he's afraid that he might not have the next.

"Neff, please." he pleads with no other words.

please ( don't go ) please ( stay with me ) please ( don't blame me ) please please please please please ( end this, save me )

@cosmicdreamt perish actually

#panic attack tw #anxiety tw #ptsd tw #anxiety attack tw #suicidal ideation tw #depression tw #cosmicdreamt #♡. orlain.v01 ( main ) ⁄ ⁄ just a ghost of a man pretending to live . #♡. orlain.ic ⁄ ⁄ the soldier who isn’t . #ORLAIN&NEFF THREAD 003.

[movedto-bunny-lovers]

Imagine your f/o holds you close to them and tells you take a deep breath when you’re having an anxiety attack

#f/o imagines #f/o imagine #imagine your fictional other #imagine your f/o #self shipping #selfshipping #selfship community #self shipping community #self ship community #selfshipping community #self ship imagine #anxiety attack tw #tw anxiety attack #anxiety attack mention

[moonsonnet]

62: in my mind

previous / beginning / next

#⚸ #britechester #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #s4 #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #s4 edit #sims 4 story #ts4 screenshots #s4 story #sims story #*sloane #*apollo #*julian #panic attack tw #anxiety attack tw #mental health tw #abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #b2

[withoutatrace-pkmn]

every time someone posts Hole I take psychic damage

#maybe I should just stop getting so involved in crater debates #I’ll just end up having an anxiety attack or smth #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #anxiety attack tw #(mentioned)

[pokemonveterinarian]

\\mod feels like he's about to have an anxiety attack but his mom will say she can't get him bc of work so he doesn't know what to do

\\hes already using his evil powers

#ooc post #anxiety attack tw

[fe11schurch]

jeremy , vicki , & parties , a drabble . two times jeremy went to the falls and the one time he went home . alternatively called ' jeremy's great gatsby arc . '

it's been four hours without her and you feel like any longer will be the death of both of you . you don't want to admit you were wrong , so instead of calling and saying that you're sorry , you put your headphones on and make your music loud enough to ignore the tapping on the window . she's crying , mascara dripping down her now hollowed cheeks from the amount of weight she's been losing , and she's begging for you to open the window and let her in . you don't . instead , you close your eyes , and turn the other way .

you get news that she's gone missing and didn't go home the next day and you feel slightly responsible . vicki's brother puts up missing posters and calls everyone in town , but you know that she'd show up wherever there was dope and bad tasting beer . so you arrive at the falls , cigarette between your fingers and tapping anxiously on your knees until you were certain there was bruise there . you move from your knees to scratching at your hands , they're calloused and beaten , but now you're biting them until you break skin. it's after three in the morning , and you're still waiting until she comes twirling in through the trees . you end up waiting until the sun comes up before your sister is honking the horn of your ( now dead ) parents' car with the windows still broken . you get into the passenger seat and stare out the window, hoping that maybe you're just over looking it . you're not , and your sister won't stop telling you how broken you are from the passenger seat .

a week goes by and you're high more than you're sober . your sister is too busy helping her friends to notice that the life is being sucked out of your cheeks and you have blown your savings from working at the grill on cheap weed and jewelry to apologize to your girl when she comes back home . there's another party at the falls and you show up on time with the drugs and her jacket that you took from her house . she must be cold , she must be hungry , she must be scared -- but you know that she could never miss a party especially at tyler lockwood's where she always did look at him with a sparkle in her eye that she never gave you . you try not to be bitter when tyler has other girls on his arm , but you're still looking for her . you're always going to look for her .

you get into a fist fight with tyler lockwood because of how he writes off vicki's disappearance . you know that vicki is more than the trailer park druggie that tyler keeps referring to her as . you punch and punch until you're unsure of who's blood is stained on your knuckles . if vicki were to see you now , she'd be unhappy , but at least she'd know that you were there waiting for her while tyler was busy bending over aimee bradley and not thinking twice about her . vicki can handle her own, but you want to handle vicki , even around her roughest edges .

she still doesn't show up and you're down six beers . her jacket is placed over your beat up knees and you're starting to give up . elena doesn't come honking this time , this time it's your aunt jenna who looked just as tired as you do . she doesn't say anything , just revs up the engine and takes you home . you start to cry and pick at the skin on your hands again . this becomes an ongoing habit .

you think you saw her in a dream . your bright green light at the end of the tunnel . her face is beat up and bloody, but you touch her cheeks and they're still familiar . shes still vicki even when she looks like she's about to topple over , and she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen . she's turning purple under your touch , so you put her jacket over her shoulders so she can get warm . she doesn't , still icy to the tips of your fingers . jere , i'm going to kill you . her voice sounds like a warning , and you think to yourself that maybe she already has . jeremy , get away from me . you don't , you just hug her tightly until she disappears like a gust of wind through your arms .

you've been showing up to every party with no vicki in sight . you've shown her picture that was printed on the missing poster . you've called her phone , stayed perched outside of her home for hours , and checked every hospital within a 50 mile radius . you begin to lose hope , as well as your motivation to do anything but yearn for her return . your studies that you paid for out of pocket are put on the back burner . everything seems so pointless . but you sit around the campfire and hum to the sound of duke from duke university singing some song out of key and you wish that vicki could be there to hear it and laugh . you laugh instead . you laugh and you laugh until you start to cry . the tears are uncontrollable as you're still laughing , hand flinging up to wipe at the tears that don't stop falling . everyone's looking at you like you've got a third eye , and you're quick to your feet as you wander back towards the falls and perch yourself on a tree to try to regain your breath .

the water is quick to fall down the rocks , and you try to ground yourself by falling to your knees and splashing water on your face . you can't . instead you're splashing yourself so much that any more water would make you drown. not that it would matter anyway, it's how you lost your parents. it's how you almost lost your sister until she was saved by some kind of miracle. you're ugly sobbing at a party and tyler lockwood has his tongue down a random girl's throat not too far away from your heaving body when the girl you were both trying to impress is probably dead in a ditch somewhere .

everything feels so fucking heavy . it's heavy, and it's out of your hands which makes it weigh more on your chest . you could've saved vicki , just like you could've saved your parents , and you could've saved yourself the trouble of feeling like the world was on your shoulders by not coming to this party at all . you pound at your chest to try to get the pain to stop swirling , twisting the material of your jacket thinking that will help but it doesn't . there's ringing in your ears that sounds like screaming , and for a second you think you see her before you dunk your head fully into the river , letting a loud scream out just as you did in your bathtub the night before . you let yourself struggle under the water under you're being pulled out by some random who watches you gasp for breath and storm your way down the street instead of saying anything .

you don't wait for your sister or your aunt jenna , you just take off running . instead of finding yourself at abandoned houses or climbing up a tree , you arrive at the doorstep to the home you've been living in all your life . you forgot your house key, so you're banging on the front door to be let in. elena opens the door and you fall into your twin sister's arms, sobbing uncontrollably until your aunt jenna had to help carry you to bed where both of them had to hold your shaking body until you calmed down .

you don't show up to the next party . or the one after that . but you think you see her in trees on your walk home from the movies , and you know that you'll love her even if it is just the wind .

#this is really dark #also tried my hand at second person and it's kinda a flop but i finished it to have it #he also talks very negatively about tyler here #addiction tw #drugs tw #alcohol mention tw #anxiety attack tw #drowning tw #parental death mention tw #altered reality tw #attempted drowning tw #? #house in nebraska . ⋆· ˚ ༘ * ( dynamic : ft. vicki donovan . ) #envy . ⋆· ˚ ༘ * ( dynamic : ft. tyler lockwood . )

[hatchetsfield]

@beaniestm ➽ “ can you hear me? hey… alice, can you hear my voice? “

𐃈 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞,  𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲  𝐡𝐚𝐬  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝  𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞  𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞  𝐚  𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭  𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐚  𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥  𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝  𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩.  it  held  onto  alice  tightly,  its  hand  always  in  her  own  to  keep  her  close,  to  make  sure  she  didn’t  stray  too  far  away.  it  was  a  strict  guardian,  never  letting  her  hand  fully  leave  its  own,  always  calling  her  back  home  to  its  side  far  before  the  streetlights  turned  on.  

alice  did  not  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  anxiety  as  merely  a  concept  or  an  idea.  𝙞𝙩  𝙬𝙖𝙨  𝙖𝙨  𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡  𝙩𝙤  𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙚  𝙖𝙨  𝙖𝙣𝙮  𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣,  and  it  bore  the  same  resemblance.  

anxiety  had  hands,  in  which  it  used  to  cover  her  ears  from  reason  and  shield  her  eyes  from  fact.  anxiety  had  lips,  in  which  it  used  to  whisper  false  narratives  and  broken  promises  into  her  ears.  anxiety  had  eyes,  in  which  it  used  to  scour  out  every  possibility  of  imminent  danger,  even  if  the  margin  of  possibility  was  less  than  nothing.  anxiety  had  legs  and  feet,  which  it  used  to  lead  alice  to  the  worst  possible  scenarios  into  the  arms  of  panic,  away  from  the  open  arms  of  logic,  away  from  those  who  wanted  to  help  her.

away  from  those  like  emma.

alice  would  be  lying  if  she  said  she  didn’t  admire  emma.  she  was  like  the  cool  aunt  everyone  wished  they  had,  or  the  favorite  cousin  that  the  younger  kids  awed  over.  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝘄𝗮𝘆  𝘀𝗵𝗲  𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁  𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲  𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁  𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺  𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝗿𝘂𝗱𝗲  𝗮𝗻𝗱  𝗼𝗯𝗻𝗼𝘅𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀  𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘀  𝗼𝗳  𝗯𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲’𝘀  𝘄𝗮𝘀  𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴  𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁  𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗲,  𝘄𝗵𝗼  𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱  𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻  𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲  𝗯𝘂𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗱  𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼  𝗵𝗲𝗿,  𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿��𝗱  𝘁𝗼  𝗯𝗲  𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲.  she  started  to  become  a  more  frequent  patron  of  the  terrible  coffee  shop  in  order  to  hang  around  emma.  a  rapport  between  the  two  built  quickly,  and  with  it  a  bond  of  sorts.  

(  at  least,  alice  thinks  there  is  …  hopes  there  is.  as  an  only  child,  emma  had  quickly  and  perfectly  filled  the  shoes  of  the  cool  big  sister  alice  always  wanted  )  

alice  had  a  hard  time  standing  up  for  herself  —  𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙙  𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨  𝙚𝙖𝙩  𝙝𝙚𝙧  𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙧  𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜  𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨  𝙖𝙣𝙙  𝙝𝙚𝙧  𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙠  𝙖𝙩  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜  𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚  𝙩𝙤  𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙙  𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧  𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬  𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩  𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚  𝙝𝙖𝙙  𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙  𝙪𝙥.  but  there  was  something  in  seeing  the  way  that  emma’s  bosses,  nora  and  zoey,  treated  her,  that  had  the  words  leaving  her  lips  before  she  could  clench  her  teeth  to  stop  them;  

❝  hey,  lay  off  and  leave  emma  alone!  can’t  you  see  she’s  doing  what  the both  of  you  should  be  doing  combined?  ❞  

she  feels  her  anxiety  take  hold  of  her  wrists,  shaking  her  as  it  spews  vitriol.  what  have  you  done?!  it  hisses.  you’re  going  to  get  emma  fired!  they’ll  fire  her  and  she’ll  hate  you  and  it  will  all  be  your  fault!  

alice’s  chest  heaved  as  she  tried  to  remember  how  breathing  worked.  her  eyes  widen,  and  she  shoots  out  of  her  seat,  knocking  the  plastic chair  over  as  she  stumbles  back  from  the  table  near  the  check-stand  and  towards  the  little  entryway  for  the  one-stall  bathroom.  

panic  shouts  in  her  ears  as  it  shakes  the  ground  beneath  her  feet,  𝚊  𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜  𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝  𝚊𝚝  𝚊  𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎  𝚊𝚜  𝚒𝚝  𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚜  𝚘𝚞𝚝  𝚑𝚘𝚠  𝚜𝚑𝚎  𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍  𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚑𝚘𝚠  𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊  𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍  𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎  𝚑𝚎𝚛,  when  suddenly,  a  voice  sounds  above  it,

❛  .  .  . .alice?  can  you  hear  my  voice?  ❜

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙  𝙩𝙤  𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘  𝙖𝙣𝙙  𝙖𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮,  𝙞𝙩  𝙞𝙨  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚,  𝙗𝙪𝙩  𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙚  𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨  𝙞𝙩  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩.  alice’s  eyes  dart  towards  the  source,  and  are  surprised  to  find  emma’s  own.  ❝  emma  i—i’m  so  sorry.  i  just  -  they  were  being  so  shitty  to  you  and  you  didn’t  deserve  it  and  it  made  me  so  mad  and  so  i  —  it  just  came  out.  i’m  so  sorry,  i  promise  i  wasn’t  trying  to  embarrass  you  or  get  you  into  trouble  or  anything  .  .  .  please  don’t  hate  me.  ❞  she  begs  through  labored  breaths.

#alice?? thinking emma is so cool?? and wanting to hang around her??? more likely than you think #she gives cool aunt / big sis vibes and so alice is like ':o cool surrogate family figure?? mine now' asdsjh #anxiety attack tw #panic attack tw #♫ ► 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖? ( ✷ ᵃˡⁱᶜᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈʷᵃʳᵈ : ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ )

[nevaehdavis5675]

( Vent)

i am stressed the fuck out I just want to cry I don't know what to do anymore I can't do this shit anymore I'm ready to give up I'm just shaking and trying so hard not to cry

#tw vent post #stressed #i want to cry but i can't #i'm not okay #I'm scared #tw anxiety #anxiety attack tw #💔😭

[cripplecore]

am i shaking because i'm having an anxiety attack or because i haven't eaten in a while: a book by me (spoiler: the answer is probably both)

#both are side effects of my new meds :/ hopefully it'll go away soon #started focalin a few days ago & it's been very helpful for both adhd and anxiety. but i have no appetite at all and can't have caffeine #made the mistake of taking my meds with a caffeinated drink & it gave me a severe anxiety attack 😭 (crying emoji) #anxiety attacks are far from unusual for me but i hadn't had one in a few days (thanks to my meds) so it was worse than usual #tw medication #medication tw #tw medicine #medicine tw #tw anxiety #anxiety tw #tw anxiety attack #anxiety attack tw #tw disordered eating #disordered eating tw #<- just in case #actually disabled #disabled #disability #neurodivergent #actually neurodivergent #neurodiversity #neurodivergence #neuropunk #ask to tag #adhd #actually adhd

[lotusthewriter]

Papercut

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Steven & Lars; MINOR - Steven & The Cool Kids, Steven & Sadie, Lars/Sadie

Characters: Steven Quartz Universe, Lars Barriga, The Cool Kids, Sadie Miller; MENTIONED - The Crystal Gems, Connie Maheswaran

Summary: Steven has been feeling anxious and he realizes it gets worse when he's alone. So, he tries not to be.

Word count: 3.965

AO3

A/N: Originally published online last week, I just didn't get to post here. This is mainly me venting my anxiety attacks as of late.

I also personally see Steven having BPD, just throwing this here if anyone finds it relevant.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - anxiety and/or panic attacks, hallucination, emotional neglect, abandonment issues, self-hatred, and brief mention of suicidal thoughts.

DO NOT SHIP LARS AND STEVEN.

P/roship DNI.

--

���Anxiety”.

A word Connie has mentioned. It’s a medical term that she taught Steven after what happened to them as Stevonnie. Connie, with her mother’s knowledge, took Garnet’s advice to heart and she gets to manage her anxiety whenever it hits.

Two years later, Steven still hasn’t been able to feel better.

Flexibility, love, and trust.

Flexibility, love, and trust.

Flexibility,

Love,

And

TRUST.

Steven glows pink instead.

Thus, he goes to Garnet to ask for more tips, to know if she could try to help… but the gem tells Steven that he’s the only one who knows the answers. That he should seek them himself. Pearl and Amethyst, who wait for Garnet to head out to Little Homeschool for yet another fieldtrip, agreed indifferently.

Steven can’t even say anything before the three of them are gone in the light of the warp pad, so bright that he feels like it’s going to attack him.

Then, everything is empty.

He only stares at the void like he’s fourteen again.

Just that worsens the ache in his chest, his pink fists clutching his shirt.

Steven rushes back to his safe place, his room, before things get ugly and he goes ballistic, and he grabs his phone to do some research on anxiety. He finds quite a lot of resources.

Since then, he’s trying.

With the gems away to who knows where, and his father also out of town, Steven tries to get by on his own.

(As usual.)

…

But nothing works.

Steven does everything correctly. List five things you can sense. Distract yourself with things you like – watch a movie or a series or funny videos, read a book, listen to music or even podcasts. Breathe. Hug your pillow. Hang out with your friends–

Oh.

He… hasn’t done that in a while.

Steven can’t, though. Everyone is busy and it’s not like they should stop what they’re doing to be with him, right? Right.

Distract yourself.

Distract yourself.

Distract yourself…

Suddenly, a notification.

New texts… from Lars? How long has it been since they last talked? Maybe he needs help with something?

Anyway.

Lars: hey steven, it’s been a while right?

Lars: idk if your busy, but sadie and the cool kids are back in town and we thought of making a lil party

Lars: i know it’s kinda in the last hour so it’s ok if you can’t make it or if you don’t wanna go, but it’d be rlly cool if you came

Lars: but it’s your call of course

Steven looks at the above, wondering if this was predestined. It feels too perfect.

He hasn’t seen his friends in forever.

He types quickly:

Steven: omg I’d love to!!

Steven: I miss you guys sooo much

(Why does it feel like a lie, somehow?)

Lars: aw, we miss ya too buddy

Lars: i miss you coming to the BD to bug me every morning (followed by a pleading emoji)

Steven: Gee, Captain Lars, didn’t know you loved me that much (eyes emoji)

Lars: i was joking.

Steven: Were you really? :3

Lars: ok now your making me regret inviting you

Steven: Noooooo, come on!!

Lars: lmao

Lars: srsly now. 8 at my place, ok?

Steven: Perfect! I’ll see you there! ^^

Lars: (finger gun emojis)

Steven sighs, feeling so… light all of a sudden. Just this one interaction with Lars seems to have calmed him down a little.

The half-gem feels relieved. So relieved.

He can actually get out there and have fun with his friends, catch up with their lives, laugh together, share something tasty to eat…

(And he gets to distract himself from his rising dread.)

(To finally not be reminded how painfully alone he is.)

Well, it’s still 2 PM. From what Dad told him, Sadie and the Cool Kids are going to arrive at 6 PM… so Steven still needs to do something else to keep his mind busy. Maybe cook or bake something for the party. He doesn’t remember Lars mentioning a potluck, but Steven wants to do something nice for his friends nonetheless.

What is he going to cook or bake, then?

…

Or maybe…

--

“... don’t tell me I inspired you with my nostalgia.”

“You could say that,” Steven smirks at Lars’ statement, while holding two huge boxes of donuts with all the flavors he could remember his friends enjoying. As well as…

“You brought salad, too?” Sadie notices, almost wanting to laugh.

“Yeah, like Buck ordered once.”

“Heh, I appreciate your dedication, Steven.” Buck pats his back proudly.

“We miss our favorite roadie,” Sour Cream says, ruffling the younger boy’s curly hair.

Steven’s heart, instead of anguish, is filled with warmth.

“Awe, you guys are going to make me cry,” he jokes.

“Us too! This was so sweet of you, Steven,” Jenny compliments. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“I know every friend says this and it doesn’t always happen… but we should really hang out more,” Buck says, in his same stoic expression. “I love you guys.”

“Yeah, same,” Steven grins affectionately.

It’s a much more casual party this time, which is the best kind of party after such busy times. Lars’ backyard is lit by those small, spherical yellow lights, and everyone sits by the huge picnic table that replaces Lars’ trampoline. Besides the donuts, you can see Lars’ pastries, and apparently snacks that Sadie and the Cool Kids brought from their last tour.

They sing and play some songs together, they laugh at the stories from concerts, outer space, and Little Homeworld… Steven gets to hear more about their lives and how happy they are.

But most importantly, they’re very happy to share it with him.

Which is such an honor.

Steven is genuinely having a good time.

Perhaps the first time in so long…

He’s so happy to be a part of this.

…

The boy’s phone vibrates in his pocket.

He casually checks it, not bothered by it interrupting his immersion in the party. He’s not expecting much, when…

He sees that it’s the gems.

Steven and his family have countless groups for Little Homeschool, and then they have their own private group, just the four of them.

Pearl has sent him a rather quick and dry text informing him of their absence for the next…

Two months.

…

Two months.

Two.

Months.

And no, Steven can’t do anything to stop it.

Because he tries to text them. He sends a million desperate texts.

And his pleads are never answered. And they will never be, because the messages aren’t even sent .

He goes to all their private numbers, and nothing.

Steven calls them, to no avail. There’s not even the option for voicemail.

Bismuth, Lapis, and Peridot are on their own separate fieldtrips as well, so it’s useless to try to call them.

No one is reachable.

No one.

No one.

“... Steven. Steven?”

The half-gem only gets a little startled at Lars standing next to him, and bearing the most concerned expression Steven has seen him with. He also realizes everyone else has stopped talking.

“O-Oh, sorry,” he laughs nervously, quickly putting away his phone. “It was nothing.”

“Is everything okay?” Jenny asks.

“You looked like someone died,” Sour Cream observes, also worried.

“No, no, nobody died.” Well, except Lars , Steven would’ve darkly added. “It’s– It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Sadie questions.

“Yeah.” Steven’s dread returns to his chest, his hands beginning to shake. He hides them in his pockets, which doesn’t help since he feels his cell phone and it’s the thing that ruined everything. He’s doing everything not to turn pink. “I’m sure,” he mumbles.

Everyone looks at one another, unsure. Steven wants to scream.

“Hey,” Lars whispers, putting a hand on Steven’s back. “Do you want to go inside a bit?”

The latter hates that he likes the soothing touch, yet he’s also afraid the former is going to notice Steven is shaking, so he dodges it much to his own dismay.

“It’s okay, Lars,” Steven mumbles, wanting to cry.

He avoids everyone’s eyes, his hand almost crushing his phone into pieces inside his pocket. He’d love to throw this darned thing into the depths of the ocean.

“Sorry, I ruined the moment, didn’t I?” Steven laughs darkly.

“No, Steven, it’s okay,” Sadie reassures him. “You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to, okay?”

“Yeah, man, no worries,” Sour Cream agrees.

Despite that, the party does grow a little quieter. It feels like the emptiness of his house.

Of course. He screwed everything up. Again.

Now they don’t want anything to do with him.

(Like the gems. Like everyone else.)

Steven at least gets to resume his laugh and his smiles, because he’s always been so good at them.

Time goes by…

And they start leaving.

Because obviously, nothing lasts forever.

Jenny is the first one who leaves, and she gives Steven the biggest hug. It doesn’t smell like pizza anymore, instead it’s a sweet scent. It’s different but nice. But too quick.

Sour Cream and Buck leave together. The former sidehugs Steven, while the latter gently tells him to take care of himself, and to always count on them whenever he needs. Steven smiles and nods, without any honesty.

Lastly, Sadie, Lars, and Steven… the original trio. It’s been so long, Sadie and Lars are a lot more comfortable around each other nowadays, holding hands under the table. Steven would’ve fanboyed at another time when he sees Sadie casually kissing Lars’ cheek, causing her boyfriend to go pinkier than what should be possible.

Sadie’s hug, though, is longer than everyone else’s goodbyes.

“It was nice seeing you, Steven,” she grins with some melancholy. “Don’t forget we love you, okay?”

Steven doesn’t believe her, but he plasters a smile on his face just to please her.

“Okay,” he replies simply.

Sadie is convinced, and walks away.

Finally, it’s just him.

The only one left.

Lars is quiet.

Steven knows what he’s going to say.

And before Lars does, the sixteen-year-old puts his distraction in action.

“Oh, do you need help cleaning?” He asks.

“Uh, there’s… not a lot to do.”

“Yeah, but like, I could help with the trash.”

“Steven, it’s fine.”

“No, really, I–”

“Why don’t you go home and rest?” Lars isn’t even being rude, he’s genuinely suggesting it because he can tell Steven isn’t fine.

But going home is not going to help.

It’s the last thing Steven needs.

“Don’t worry, Lars, I can do this!” Steven grins widely and already moves to the table to take the remains of food and plastic, as well as the donut boxes.

He can hear Lars sighing in the back.

(Steven hates himself. Obviously Lars doesn’t want him here.)

(But Steven can’t go back.)

(He can’t go back.)

Indeed, there’s not a lot of work to do. Lars washes whatever dishes he needed for the baking part, while Steven takes care of the trash. There are huge trash bins in the yard, so he easily finishes the job.

… it’s over.

He does more.

Steven seeks out any trash he can find to fill the larger bin, both in the kitchen and the restroom.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Lars asks from afar.

“I’m helping!”

“But you’re done taking out the stuff from the party, aren’t you? Why are you taking out the trash from my house?”

“Because I want to help!”

Before Steven can go back outside, Lars stops him with a frowning face.

“Steven, you’re not okay,” the latter states seriously. “You need to go home.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I think you do. I don’t know what happened that you saw earlier, but you need to rest.”

“I don’t need rest.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Lars sounds sarcastic. “Like you’re not obsessively looking for stuff to do?”

“I’m not doing that!” Steven defends.

“Yeah, and I bet you’re not going to clean all the restrooms next. Or the windows. Or my entire bedroom–”

“Oh, haha , you are SO hilarious,” Steven rolls his eyes and tries to go outside again, only for Lars to step forward to make him go back. “Lars, let me go,” Steven warns.

“Will you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Alright, then go home.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me throw you inside my head myself.”

Steven boils. “Just let me do this for you, Lars!”

“I’m telling you you don’t have to!” Lars raises his voice.

“But I want to!”

“And I want you to be okay!”

“But I AM OKAY!”

“You wouldn’t be YELLING at me if you were!”

Steven growls in frustration, “Just let me go outside!”

“NO!”

He has had it.

The half-gem pushes Lars aside harshly, to the point of knocking the latter over, and Steven is too distraught to apologize for it. He rushes outside in the peaceful night.

“STEVEN!” Lars yells from inside the kitchen.

He just needs to do this.

He needs to distract himself, distract, distract, distract–

Steven opens the bin–

Noise.

Light.

Too much.

A swarm of white butterflies comes out of the trash bin, flying so loudly and so close that Steven falls backwards.

No.

Not them.

Not them again.

No. No. NO. NO. NO.

He thought he had it under control. He thought he would be okay. He thought…

Steven hides.

That’s all he can do.

He’s alone, alone, alone, alone.

(And he deserves it.)

…

“... can you hear me? Steven! Steven !”

He’s panting furiously, violently.

“Make it go away!” Steven cries.

“Make what go away?”

“EVERYTHING!”

He half regrets yelling, but Steven knows the butterflies are there, and no one else does.

“Steven…”

“Too much,” Steven speaks in between gasps, “too much, it’s too much, I-I can’t take this anymore!”

At this point, he’s aware that he’s pink and he can’t repress it any longer. It’s consuming his every thought, every part of his body.

“I can’t… I can’t…” Steven heaves.

Whoever is there must have left, right?

Steven is helpless. Hopeless.

…

“Steven, can I touch you?”

Oh… they’re still there.

“Is that okay?” They ask.

Steven doesn’t want to look back. He doesn’t want to see it all.

But…

“... y-yeah,” he hiccups, “okay.”

“Okay. I’m just- gonna help you sit, alright? Are you hurt?”

Steven shakes his head, unsure if it was meant to answer the question.

Either way, he feels hands on him, at first trying to remind Steven that they’re real. The hands are gentle. Scarred, rough, but gentle and slow. Their long fingers are a history of cooking cuts. Steven doesn’t know how he can tell all these details, but he does.

“Easy…” the sixteen-year-old is gradually being moved to sit.

But he knows that he’ll be closer to the butterflies.

“WAIT!” Steven yells in panic.

“What?” The other person stops immediately, but still gets a hold on him.

“I-I don’t want… I don’t…” Steven can’t even say the right words, so they come out as, “I don’t wanna die…”

Well, they’re still kind of true.

“Hey, you’re not going to die.”

“I don’t want to…”

“You’re not. I’m here,” Lars – Lars Barriga, perhaps the best person to deal with someone in this situation – promises. “I’m here, Steven.”

You’ve got nothing to fear

I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

…

Whimpering.

“I don’t wanna go home.”

He gets silence.

“I d-don’t wanna go h-home,” Steven cries like a little kid after a nightmare. “I-It’s so… empty… so…”

“Lonely?”

Steven nods painfully.

“You’re not going to be alone, okay? I won’t let that happen.”

Lars sounds so sure, and the way he’s rubbing Steven’s shoulders… it brings the latter shivers. The good kind of shivers.

And tears. So many of them. All the tears that he has swallowed and never released them.

Steven clings to his friend, who squeezes him in return, the hug as rough and tender as his mere touch.

“I’ve got you, buddy,” Lars reassures him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It only makes Steven sob harder, purely out of relief. It’s so ironic, but so true.

He cries for a good couple of minutes or hours, smelling vanilla and butter in Lars’ clothes, not minding the dirty apron the baker is wearing at all. Steven wants to absorb that smell and make it his home, because it feels so safe that he doesn’t want it to go away. He doesn’t want the hands to let him go ever again.

And it feels like Lars wants to protect him from the world, from whatever horrible thing that made Steven like this. Even if he can’t see the butterflies, Lars still seems to shield Steven from them.

Just that has the half-gem finally face reality, finding the butterflies roaming there, endlessly coming out of the trash bin. As Steven expected.

However, with Lars holding him right now, Steven doesn’t feel so overwhelmed anymore.

So… this is what he needed.

He gets now.

Thus, the butterflies finally end and they fly to the sky above, replacing the stars. They will never disappear, as he already knew.

Steven relaxes significantly, like he’s going to pass out in the hug. He lets out a shaky breath while Lars hugs him tightly in response, knowing that it’s the perfect kind of tightness for Steven.

Lars also breathes in and out deeply, squeezing the boy some more.

“Come on,” he whispers, “let’s go inside.”

This time, Steven accepts it, glowing pink and everything.

--

“... I’m sorry,” he sniffs. “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.”

Lars sighs, but in regret. “I’m sorry, too. For being a jerk to you.”

Neither of them give excuses.

Steven contemplates the night sky from the skyscrapers, aware he can see the butterflies from there. In the meantime, Lars holds him as Steven has no energy left to cling.

“I hate feeling like this,” the younger teen vents, “it just keeps getting worse with time.”

“So you’ve had this before?”

Steven nods. “I-I’ve tried everything to make it better. Garnet taught me and Connie how to deal with our problems, and it worked for Connie… but not for me. And I asked Garnet for help, but instead she just gave me a life lesson and Pearl and Amethyst didn’t even care, and they LEFT ME without ANYTHING!” Steven snaps, only for him to cover his mouth and freeze, scared he might have startled Lars.

Lars, however, doesn’t look scared of him at all.

Instead, sad. Maybe angry, but not at Steven.

“So yeah, I’m expected to do everything on my own, I’m used to it!” Steven continues, more furious. “I looked it up online, since Connie told me about ‘anxiety’, and I did everything they taught me to manage it, but nothing soothes my chest, nothing calms me down… I think I only felt good when you invited me, and I got to see you guys again. I haven’t felt this happy in so long, a-and then OBVIOUSLY, something always has to RUIN it for me.”

He tears up again, his eyes burning pink and red.

“I-I… I got a text from the gems that they’re going to be gone for two months , a-and I couldn’t reach them. Because they’d already left. EVERYONE left. T-They all left me .”

Lars doesn’t say anything, choosing to hug Steven closer, nuzzling his black curls, doing everything to make sure Steven feels loved and cared for.

“Why does everyone leave me?” The half-gem asks.

Except Steven knows why.

He’s selfish. Useless. Clingy.

He doesn’t say any of these things, yet Lars pulls away just slightly with a stern look.

“Steven,” the older teen begins seriously, “listen to me, you don’t deserve to be abandoned, okay? No kid in the world deserves to be abandoned or neglected; they deserve to be reminded every single day that they’re loved in all the ways possible. You didn’t fail anyone by existing. I know everyone out there”– Lars gestures at the above –“made you believe that, but they’re WRONG.”

There’s some kind of ferocity in Lars’ words, the same one Steven heard back when the boys were abducted to Homeworld – firstly when Lars refused to leave the ship without Steven, and then when he convinced Steven to return home instead of sticking with Lars and the Off Colors.

A sense of protection, perhaps.

Steven feels warm inside, which he feels ashamed of for some reason, and at the same time it hurts. Which makes no sense, because it’s the good kind of hurt. What kind of hurt is good?

Still, the glowing boy’s eyes are only filled with more water.

Noticing that, Lars gently wipes some of it for him.

“You don’t have to be useful, Steve,” he says tenderly. “You don’t have to be self-sufficient, you don’t have to be strong all the time. You deserve to have someone, and you deserve to have someone when you feel the whole weight of the galaxy crushing you.”

Steven sniffs, contemplative.

Lars’ words are believable. Steven has always trusted him, and has always thought the world of him. Steven loved Lars from the beginning, embracing every little part of him, the weight that he also carried.

Still… one question keeps haunting Steven every single day, every single night.

“... do you think they would treat my mom like this if I weren’t here?”

Lars immediately tenses, immobile like a doll. Not a corpse, but a doll.

Steven, admittedly, asked that to himself. He knows Lars won’t have the answers. He can’t speak for the gems. It feels cruel to Lars, who’s just trying his best to help a friend in need.

The silence this time is not comforting. Steven fears he ruined everything again.

“Steven?” Lars suddenly sounds… fragile.

When the younger boy looks up, he sees a teary Lars already staring back.

“I love you,” the latter tells him.

The broken way he says it…

“Whenever you feel unloved, whenever you feel alone or whenever the gems fuck off to wherever they go without a trace,”– Steven’s eyes widen at the word choice –“I want you to remember that I love you, and that you’re always welcome here. There’s always food and life here, no emptiness at all. And you can always go see me at Spacetries and we can have a coffee and chat like the old days, or if we can’t see each other in person for any reason, you can call me. I can always teleport, too. I can do literally anything to help you, Steven, and I want to help you, because I love you , okay?”

Lars is cupping his cheeks like they’re precious, wiping Steven’s tears and crying his own. Like Lars is the one crying for him now, feeling his pain for him.

“I’m here for you. I’ll always be here, no matter how, no matter what,” he insists.

Steven is too speechless to react.

He realizes, though…

He stops glowing pink.

And he forgets everything else, with how genuine Lars’ love is.

Steven merely lies down against his friend, who covers him properly with his blanket. Lars caresses the boy’s black hair, in the same way that Steven has always craved for, even if it reminded him of bad memories.

It’s perfect just the way it is. Perfect in every way, just like you.

He doesn’t want Lars to ever stop.

He doesn’t want this to ever be gone.

But Lars won’t leave him. He will make sure Steven never feels anxious or useless on his own again.

And Steven…

“... I love you, too,” he whispers.

Lars tightens his arms around him, this time sniffing. If he cries on Steven’s head, neither of them talk about it.

It stays between them.

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven quartz universe #lars barriga #the cool kids #sadie miller #anxiety attack tw #panic attack tw #hallucination tw #suicide mention tw #suicidal thoughts tw #neglect tw #vent fic #long post #fanfiction #hurt/comfort