#(hopefully this is alright!)

[cjsarchive]

Can you write Sam comforting Mika when she's having a panic attack, please?

Yes I can, I hope you enjoy!

I’ll Always Be Here for You-Sam x Mika

Tw: Depictions of a panic attack

Mika stared down at her pile of textbooks and notebooks filled up with notes all over her bed. She sat in the midst of all of them, sighing. It was 11:34pm and she was rushing to complete all of her notes. Sam knew she needed to study, so he left her alone for the time being. Mika was used to pushing herself and working nonstop, even to the point of anxiety. She had made the decision to prioritize her mental health for a few days and try not to focus on her work. But it turns out, mental health days don’t actually benefit your mental health, or at least Mika thought so. She was now studying late trying to catch up on the work she didn’t do. She was stressed out and exhausted, trying to keep herself awake and working despite the headache she had trying to tell her to stop and go to bed

There was so much work to do and all she wanted to do was sleep, but she couldn’t sleep, her body wouldn’t let her. She had to get this work done. Mika sighed as her eyes started to water from the amount of stress she felt in that moment. She felt like she was wrong for not working, like her whole life was thrown off balance. ‘There’s so much I need to do. You have responsibilities, you have to get this degree.’ She told herself repeatedly. ‘Why did I take days off? That was so stupid of me.’ She thought to herself, ‘The world never stops, it nevers goes on hold for you.’ Suddenly, she felt a sudden surge in her chest, almost feeling like someone kicked her in the chest. She gripped her chest at the sudden pain. She began to shiver as she suddenly began to have difficulty breathing. Her heartbeat quickened, her hands felt cold, and her breathing fastened as she began to sweat. Her vision started to blur, not only from the tears, but also from the dizzying that quickly grew in her mind. She felt a sinking in her stomach and her stomach suddenly dropped, like she was falling rapidly and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Everything was whirling around in her head, she felt like she was rushing away from her bed, like she wasn’t in reality anymore. She couldn’t feel her body, she felt very lightheaded. Almost felt like her brain was trying to escape from her mind.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, and in walked Sam, yawning, “Hey, doofus, are you still studyi-“ he immediately froze when he saw Mika and sensed her extreme level of intensity in the aura around her body, “Woah! Are you okay?! What’s wrong?” He quickly rushed over and looked over her. She was sweating profusely as she gripped her chest, breathing heavily.

“I-I,” Mika tried to say, but her words kept escaping her. She felt outside of her mind, barely being able to make out that it was Sam standing there talking to her. Sam stood there panicked, he had no idea what to do. His mind felt empty as he tried to figure out what’s going on, and how to help her. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’ He panicked to himself. She was clearly in distress, but she wasn’t speaking to him. He couldn’t think of anything but try to enthral her. His eyes glowed a golden color as he altered her mind to bring it to a calm and relaxed state. Mika felt her mind suddenly go blank. She then felt a warm, fuzzy feeling flow throughout her body. Her heartbeat softed and she felt herself slow as her mind slowly came back down to earth. She began to gain feeling in her body again and her dizziness calmed.

Sam moved aside her books on the bed before he sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her, leaning her head against his chest. “Sorry about enthralling you and stuff, I just had no idea what to do,” he said, sounding almost guilty. Mika took deep breaths and wrapped her arms around Sam. She listened to his heartbeat, “It’s okay, I’m just glad it’s over.” She sighed, settling in his chest. Sam simply held her, he rubbed gentle circles on her back, waiting for her to calm down for real as the help of his enthrallment slowly faded away.

After a while, he finally asked, “What happened?” He asked softly, hoping he wouldn’t trigger her again.

Mika sighed, “I’m so stressed. I have all this work I have to catch up on and…I panicked.” She said, putting it briefly.

“Hey, it’s okay, alright? It’ll be fine. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Mika nodded, “Alright,” her mind finally drifted to a calm pace as he held her. Sam wanted to talk more about this, but he knew that what she needed right now was comfort, and he was more than happy to provide it. Mika didn’t know if it was his enthrallment, or simply Sam’s presence, but she completely relaxed in his arms. She nuzzled his chest as she got comfortable with him. “Thank you, Sam,” she said softly.

Sam left a kiss on her head as he continued to hold her close, not wanting to let her go, “I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”

[mantlehold]

starter for: @wildestdrcam based on this ! / for esther.

looks like her relationship didn't work out as long as she expected it to. but regina expected that: somehow relationships on her end seemed to falter and fall apart easily akin to crumpled leaves on an autumn morning. she was unfortunately incredibly used to that routine.

she and esther had been best friends for a couple of years now and had been through thick and thin. regina was just concerned she was arriving at such an inconceivable time.

the athlete was tossing rocks up at esther's window, a small smile breaking across a freckle dotted visage once she spies the window opening. "hey, uh. . . my ex girlfriend dumped me. you don't mind if i hung out here with you, right?"

she simply needed a distract from her woes.

[hvneymelons]

Closed Starter: @fromharbor

Finding himself at the park once more that week, Dante walked over to his now regular spot with his guitar where he would spend hours each week simply trying to get back into his element. Music hadn’t come easy since his old lady passed, and while he knew that it was nothing but a momentary lapse in muse, he couldn’t help but worry he'd never feel the euphoria of piecing together new music. It wasn’t a reality that he’d welcome easily and for that very reason he forced himself to put time aside to merely stroke a couple strings. Let the music speak to him as it’s always done and not force himself too much.  After a couple minutes of string testing, he glanced up to find a familiar face sitting not too far away. Smiling when he did catch her eye, Dante slid his guitar to his back and headed Elspeth’s way. “Lovely afternoon we’re having.” he said grinning at her before taking the seat beside her. “Been a hot minute since I’ve seen you ‘round. Where have you been hiding, sweet mortician?” While they had only truly met one time and exchanged numbers, the two hadn’t exactly planned to meet just yet. He liked the simplicity of running into her out of the blue. “Chosen by God.” he commented, remembering her name, “I took the liberty of looking it up. That’s a tall order right there.” 

[bessmrvin]

@hatesdogs asked: “ i belong to no man, and no one. ”  

"See, I actually do believe that." Bess commented, pointing at the other in agreement. She felt like she was on shaky ground, licking away her pink lip gloss. The taste of false strawberry made her only more nervous. Bess wasn't dumb; she knew this person was powerful. His aura screamed 'I-do-what-I-like'. God, why did Nancy ask her to investigate this lead?

"You seem like someone who does what they want when they want. So-so that's what's stumping me," she continued. "Why take orders from those men?"

[pomegrnate]

close starter for @cheongyang <3

amidst the swirling vortex of bodies and beats, the demon moves with the grace of a shadow, his form blending seamlessly into the frenetic dance of the crowd. but beneath the facade of anonymity, a primal instinct courses through his veins, urging him to flee, to escape the probing gaze of the human girl who hunts him like prey.

with each passing moment, her presence looms larger in his mind, a relentless specter that threatens to unravel the fragile threads of his carefully constructed disguise. and so, with a desperation born of necessity, he seeks refuge in the arms of a stranger, a solitary figure lost amidst the throng of revelers.

'be my companion for the night,' he murmurs, his voice a seductive whisper that hangs in the air like a siren's song. and in the depths of the stranger's eyes, he tries to see a glimmer of understanding.

[primalady]

@cannotfly liked for a starter.

Marie was used to this. Paparazzi with their flashing lights, shoving people, and yelling. One of her earliest memories was this. But it didn't get any easier when they consumed her normal life. All because her world-famous opera singer mom was here at the university. To talk to the dean about her.

It made her feel like a pinned-down butterfly specimen - trapped between a pin and a harsh backing. Examined by the public and private people of her life. Confined to be caught in between, sitting like a scolded child in the large atrium of the university hall.

"I wouldn't go out that way," Marie warned the passing woman. "Its pretty full of paparazzi; they won't be leaving for an hour probably." Even if her mom went out the back door.

[phantomansion]

@maidensdeath liked for a starter!

"I wanted nothing more than to be free of that mansion." Elizabeth revealed with a secrecy to her tone. As if speaking such heresy would bring down the fist of the curse she was under. "Alive. . . and dead."

Despite death, Elizabeth had a glow about her, literally and figuratively. She glowed faintly, almost purely; the light clinging to her chest as if coming from her heart. And she still had life in her dark eyes like galaxies of hope. "I wanted to be a teacher, out west. With him." Love and care painted the singular pronoun. Him. Her beating heart - Edward.

"What did you want once?"

[inkedstone]

closed starter for @scorpionfear

The man who is currently digging around a used book bin is very unimpressive. In fact, most people probably look over him. And that's the point, Crede chose his human form with mundanity in mind, short, small, unimposing. His features are just as unremarkable, with his dark hair and eyes.

The one thing that does stand out, though, is his clothing. But that doesn't seem to bother him much. He's busy digging through a bin of nonfiction, setting aside ancient old copies (at least ancient to him, he finds it hard to understand how humans are still using paper) with almost no clear sign of how he's organizing them.

He's keeping to himself, completely oblivious to the world around him.

[spacingbachelorette]

A voice can help people express. Whenever it is to say anything, or to fake some part of it for an impression.

Ricky- Well, just Potts just looks ahead at the audience. Do… Does this…

With only a voice they don’t have, they look at the rest, not having much feelings about their situation. They already knew their time would be up, maybe getting used to being a ghost so fast.

“Well… hey there.” They say, with that voice to the rest. They can’t help but stare beyond the rest, however.

@democracyrockzz @astral--horrorshow @krowsselfindulgy @ratsvoid @savannahwiththegreeneteyes @spacingbachelorette @badeggyt @affinity-play-real

Main Tws: death, unreality, body horror, implied gore, yelling, trauma, loss of identity, internalized queerphobia, horny teens being horny teens

(Pay mind to the timestamps)

We pick up where we left off:

At the end of Ride The Cyclone. (Check pinned post for those visiting)

And that's it. On September 14th, 2016, all of the kids died, none able to escape their fate. Years pass, and the fair rots like their corpses.

Except it's not the end. For they now haunt the abandoned fair.

Welcome to:

The Circus of Life

We begin at the entrance of the cyclone. It is night. (See Chance theatre's set. Note: Just so you know I do not support M*C*rter, as I'm pretty sure Chance is associated with them.)

A headless silhouette appears from behind a sheet, slowly revealed by a backlight.

Jane Doe, singing:

I know this dream of life is never ending

It goes around and round and round again

At times we fall and soon we are ascending

I know beginning comes with every end

2:13-2:44

As she sings, she puts on her doll's head and adjusts it. (See Station Theatre's Jane Entrance.)

Lights fade out.

The stage is lit by a blue light.

You Drop! Begins.

0:17-2:20

Each character enters from opposite sides as they sing, walking in beat with the music before turning towards the audience. They act like lamenting ghosts.

The song ends and the characters snap out of their trance.

Synopsis: The choir processes the fact they are now ghosts as well as observes the ruined state of the fair.

(Remember that in order to makes sure nobody feels rushed to answer whenever you want to speak you should put in the comments that you are going next!)

[ahhrenata]

Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie hears him. He keeps his eyes closed and just listens- to Steve grumbling to himself when his hair doesn’t sit quite right, who starts to hum and whisper some catchy song. Eddie turns his sleepy gaze onto Steve as he shuffles around their room- watching quietly as he slips on his clothes, his shoes, a simple chain with Eddie’s ring around his neck. A warm, affectionate smile breaks across his face. Before he leaves, Steve glances at what he expects to be a sleeping Eddie, but instead, he’s met with a rasped, ‘Hey.’ Eddie sits himself up, stretches his arm across Steve’s side of the bed, and reaches, fingers wiggling. Steve crosses the room to cradle his face.

Their foreheads press, noses bump, and Steve brushes his fingers across scars and dimples.

He breathes a quiet,

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Eddie huffs a tired laugh,

‘You know I never mind.’

Because, yeah.

Every morning Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie always hears him.

( another one from the poll | WIP )

[samwise1548]

I was reading a lot of "Jon turns into a cat" fics recently and realized that no one has given Martin the opportunity to take feline form yet! So I'm granting him the privilege myself :)

Next

[ID: Four sequential drawings of Martin Blackwood from the Magnus Archives. Martin is a fat white man with short ginger hair, round glasses, and wearing a sweater.

Image 1) Martin reaches for a purple book sat on a surface in front of him. Curiously, he says "What's this?"

Image 2) The book cover is visible to the viewer now, where it was cut off from the frame in the previous drawing. On it is some text that reads "Nine Miserable Lives" where the first word is written in blocky text, and the last word is written in a white, cursive font. There is also an image of a cat in the cover. It is tall and glaring at the viewer. Martin, offscreen comments "Cute cat."

Image 3) A full landscape shot showing a bit of the archives stacks in the background. Up front, Martin stands next to a desk and has the cat book now open in his hands. He exclaims "Oh, wait. This has Leitner's name in it!"

Image 4) The same image, except where Martin was once standing there is now a fluffy, orange cat revealed behind a puff of smoke. The cat seems shocked.

\End ID]

[rozugold]

Prev || Next

Wrong target

[mari-lair]

Isaaaaaa

[katsu2ji]

kitchen lights — s. todoroki

a/n: per request of one of my dear mutuals, @1234-emyyy, here's some short and sweet fluff for my pretty boy shoto <33 inspired by my own humming while writing this lol (I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!)

shoto did not think it was possible to love a person more than he loved you right now.

after a long day of patrol he finally returned home, tired and aching in places he didn't know he could ache. and there you were, singing softly along to the song that was playing throughout the house, unaware of his presence as you cleaned up the kitchen. he stopped where he was, quietly closing the door behind him before you noticed he had come in. you looked like an angel under the kitchen lights; he stood there, admiring you, as though this were the first time you'd two had ever crossed paths—with the look he had in his eyes, any unknowing onlooker wouldn't have thought otherwise.

it was always the little moments like this, when shoto fell harder than he thought he ever could. he felt like a schoolboy as his heart exploded in his chest; he wanted to frame this moment forever, watching you somehow manage to seep magic into a task so seemingly mundane. it was something only you could do, a power that he adored with everything in him.

as you looked up and smiled, closing the distance between the two of you to engulf him in a hug, he was reminded of what he was fighting for—a chance to come home to you everyday and be greeted with a smile. it was the promise he'd made to himself at the beginning, and one he intended to keep until the very end.

no one would stop him from returning to you when it was all said and done, no matter how much they attempted to. hell, he'd like to see them try.

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[pomegrnate]

close starter for: @inferrnos inspired by this.

everything buzzed with a chaos and flickering lights, amplified murmurs, a clandestine labyrinth pulsating with anticipation. amidst the flurry of makeup artists, stylists, and entourages, she navigated the maze, hunting for her elusive presence. as she traced the corridors, fragments of her essence appear —a lingering scent of her perfume, the echo of her laughter reverberating against the concrete walls. a specter of opulence in this realm of orchestrated chaos, a femme fatale draped in sequins and stardust. haein found the correct door with some effort, hoping she was still inside, after time and time of conflicted schedules, she had found the time to surprise her. wanting nothing more than to embrace her amidst the whirlwind of fame and adulation, seeking solace in the arms of the enigmatic muse.

[primalady]

@dunkdazed liked for a starter.

"This is why I don't do sports," Marie mumbled, pressing the ice pack to her sore forehead where the basketball bonked her. Did it hurt thatttt bad? No. But to have hot, tall, athletic guys fawning over her, Marie was maybe playing it up.

"Is it bruising?" she removed the ice pack pressing it to her cheek as she tilted her head up towards him, pouting.