#I shouldn't be afraid

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

[grotesque-butler]

for anyone who stumbles across my blog because i interacted with you, i need you to understand that i like whatever posts i like. i don't have time to click on every single profile to see if i'm "allowed" to interact or not. and expecting that of me, or anyone else, is frankly ridiculous.

if you don't want certain people interacting with your posts (and let's be real, liking a post is barely an interaction to begin with), then the internet is not for you. people are going to engage with the content they want to engage with. you cannot control who sees your posts, unless it's a private account that you only let certain people see.

[coquelicoq]

it's about...longevity? stability? it's about natsume believing he'll be somewhere long enough to plant flowers and see them bloom. it's about him taking touko seriously when she asks him to tell her what flowers he wants to plant. it's about making something with his own hands, building a future with the fujiwaras. it's about him repairing a rundown home for someone else, restoring it because it's beloved to them, because it's the home of someone they love. it's about him seeing touko's joy and thinking about the youkai saying we'd like to look upon her happy face forever. it's about the box garden making him think of the fujiwaras' garden and his parents' garden, about the flowers being both the memory of flowers that bloomed there before, and the flowers that he and the youkai planted earlier that day. it's about him waking up in both worlds with sensei. it's about touko finding the petal in his hair. it's about him feeling how he falls short and the youkai saying, but you have such gentle hands...

[little-pondhead]

Danny moved to Gotham.

Freakshow is touring in Gotham.

Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.

Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.

Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.

Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.

Danny turns to the Joker for help.

The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.

Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.

Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.

[bloodfreak-boyking]

"you wanna take another swing, go ahead, if it'll make you feel better." -> "dean you only touch me when we're dying or fighting so please dear god punch me if it means i get to feel your hands on me again"

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm having incoherent thoughts about clone danny again from the clone/clone^2 au (when am I not?) but more specifically I'm thinking about his reaction to finding out he's a clone. The standalone clone au digs into that a little more than clone^2, which is more focused on Danny and Damian's relationship. But neither (so far) really get into Danny's issues about finding out he's a clone after 15 years of thinking he wasn't.

Because he resents his parents for not telling him for so long. He resents the way he found out; through a trivial school project rather than a sit-down talk. He resents the fact that, apparently, they had meant to tell him sooner. But forgot. He resents the fact that they never told him because finding out feels like something was stolen from him when it had the chance to not be.

Danny Fenton, just fifteen, cloned not even half a year ago, knows what that personal violation of autonomy feels like. He knows what it's like to be cloned and while he loves Ellie, he does, she's his sister, and in this au his twin. But he is still left with that feeling of unsafety after realizing he'd been cloned. Being cloned is violating. The onset realization that it's so easy to get DNA without the other party noticing, and that what was stopping someone from trying to clone him again?

Followed only after with the rest of the inexplainable mix of feelings of being cloned, the rest of that inner conflict and panic that's an ugly mocktail of emotions that range from horror to fear. Trying to imagine what it's like to be cloned from the cloned party, and I imagine that it leaves you with the feeling of needing to crawl out of your own skin with discomfort.

And then he gets put on the other side of it. Danny Fenton, only fifteen, was cloned not even half a year ago, finding out he is a clone. And reactions, I imagine, can vary from person to person. But to him, it feels like something got stolen from him, like someone took a hole puncher and stuck it right into his chest and stole a chunk of himself from him.

It changes nothing about him and yet it changes everything. It's a betrayal on it's own to just find out he was a clone and they didn't tell him for fifteen years -- it shouldn't mean anything, because he's still Danny, and yet it means everything. It's him, it's him, it's about him. It's his personhood. It's about the fact that a load-bearing rock in his identity just crumbled beneath his feet and now there's a rockslide.

Because then he finds out that they used the wrong DNA. Its like pouring salt in an open wound. He's not even related to his parents or his sister, when for years he thought he was. It's the fact that pieces of his identity that he's been so secure in for so long just got ripped away from him in an instant. Then they tell him -- only through his own horrified prompting -- that the person whose DNA they used -- Bruce Wayne -- didn't even know he existed. That they accidentally used the wrong DNA, then didn't tell the person whose DNA they used.

The betrayal of being lied to for years turns really quickly into horror at his own existence. Something very similar to the horror he felt at being cloned and the skin-crawling discomfort that made him feel like his own skin wasn't really his. And then its not. It's actually not. Nothing but his own name feels like it belongs to him anymore -- not his hair, not his eyes, not his heart or his lungs, nothing feels like his anymore and he didn't know what that felt like until it was gone.

It's a question of Nature Vs. Nurture -- where does the line of "nature" begin and where does the line of "nurture" end? What of him is actually his? What of him is Bruce Wayne's? It's not logical, it's not supposed to be. It's a load-bearing wall on the house of his identity being destroyed and now everything else is caving down in on him. What belongs to Danny, what belongs to Bruce Wayne?

[neon-ufo]

October 2023

I turned 30 on October 13th

I've felt like my recent art has been lacking something personal, and I feel a strange distance from most of my works, it's something that's been bringing me down a lot lately.

I feel like I hit a wall, and I need to break a hole through it so that I can emerge as something new on the other side.

Big Challenges

Album of the month: - Song of the month: Moon River by Audrey Hepburn

[emstargazer]

The temptation... its strength unimaginable.

[zivazivc]

sneak peek of this comic thing I'm finishing. Floyd is contemplating doing something very bad

[angelpuns]

Deep deep fear that one day all my friends are gonna decide they just don't wanna talk to me anymore for whatever reason and unfortunately, I won't get the memo and will keep trying and that'll just make them hate me more :(

[clockwayswrites]

Alright darlings. I can't believe that I'm having to write this, but even if you're joking, even if you say you're joking or end it with /j, please don't threaten writers.

Joking about grabbing a pitchfork or torches is fine, cliche angry mob and all! Joking about the writer hurting reader, jail for 1000 years is fine! There's lots of okay joking ways to express things. But as soon as it crosses into actual jokes of physical harm, you've crossed a line.

Do not threaten to actually harm people. Not to punch them or slap them or stab them. Do not threaten to break into their homes or stalk them or follow them.

Not only should you just not do this to the general person, but you also don't know if who you're telling this two has a history with abuse or home invasion or stalking. You could really mess someone up.

Even if you're joking saying 'I'm going to punch you for this (/j)' is not okay. Joking to break into someone's home while they're asleep for a 'prank' is not okay. Especially when your tone comes across as less than joking. Even if that's how you joke with your friends it is not okay to say to a stranger.

Please remember there is a difference between being friendly and being friends. And writers are not your friends just because they're posting work on ao3 or social media, even if you and them are friendly with each other. You're still strangers to each other and you do not know what jokes they are okay with.

So just don't.

It can really hurt people and even if you can only be selfish about it, it is a good way to make someone not write anymore.

[brw]

I think calling relationships that are not intended to be abusive such is already kind of frustrating a lot of the time, because I think adopting that language of power dynamics often flattens very nuanced and complex relationships, but doing it with comic books that thrive off exaggerated, soap-opera, intense relationship drama that has been a core part of their inception since almost the beginning is especially stupid and ridiculous.

[un-ionizetheradlab]

"Would you still like me if you knew I am Jewish?"

I hate the fact that this thought crosses my mind every single time I meet a new person at my job. It's sickening. This sort of paranoia is not healthy for a person.

[meatsound]

i am enjoying veilguard enough but the game really does piss me off with how stupid it thinks you are

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 14)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

I stare at my deskmate's hand, dumbfounded. What is he expecting me to do, exactly?

"Well, come on!" Derrick says with a smile. "What are you waiting for?"

"Well, I, um..." I cock my head to the side, as if that would help me have a better understanding of the sight in front of me. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do."

"What do you mean?" My deskmate chuckles. "Haven't you ever walked onto someone's hand before?"

I slowly lift my head to peek up at my deskmate, and rub my arm as I shift my gaze back to the balcony floor. He really expects me to have done this?

Derrick frowns. "You haven't, have you?"

I shake my head. "No, I haven't. In fact... you're the only perthean who's ever held me before."

Derrick slowly retracts his hand from the balcony, his brows shifting upward. He blinks.

"What?" I ask.

"I... I don't know, it's just..." my deskmate says, looking down as he twiddles his thumbs. "I'm honored that you'd let me be the first perthean to hold you."

"It's not like I really had a choice, being forced to come to this school and all," I sigh. "You just happened to be the first that I couldn't avoid."

"You were forced to come to this school?" Derrick asks, his eyes widening.

"Yeah," I say with a shrug as Dad's lies about the move come to mind. "It's a long story."

"Well, whether you were forced to interact with me or not," Derrick says, tucking his arms by his sides and clenching his fists excitedly, "I'll do my best to live up to the honor of being the first perthean to hold you!"

I let out a nervous laugh. I didn't realize he'd be so excited to find this out.

"But anyway, once again returning to the matter at hand—my hand, that is," Derrick says.

My heart rate picks up again as Derrick moves his hand back towards the balcony. I don't stumble backwards this time, but I'm surprised that my insides are still churning at the sight of his nearing hand—especially since I was expecting it to approach.

The enormous leathery surface settles down before me, with each of its attached digits curling inward ever so slightly. I approach my deskmate's hand cautiously, as if it were a venus flytrap ready to snatch me up at a moment's notice.

"Now, you said you weren't sure what you were supposed to do?" Derrick asks.

I raise my foot and dangle it over my deskmate's hand, only to nearly lose my balance and stumble back onto the balcony. Do I really not know how to do this?

"I haven't the slightest clue. And besides, isn't this..." I sigh, biting down on my lip and rubbing the back of my neck. "You know, a little too casual?"

"Too casual?" Derrick blinks a few times and raises an eyebrow. "Kaylin, we are friends, right?"

"Of course!" I blurt out, quickly waving my hands. "I didn't mean to say we weren't! It's just that we've only used a formal form of handling etiquette up until this point, and... well..."

"Yes? What is it?"

"I... well... I don't really know how you expect me to get onto your hand. I guess that makes me pretty stupid, huh?" I say, hanging my head.

"You're not stupid. You just need a little guidance, that's all," Derrick says with a smile. "Now, there's something I want you to know. Because we're friends, I don't care how it is you manage to get onto my hand. You can run, crawl, jump, or fall into my hand and I wouldn't mind it in the slightest."

I look up at my deskmate, astounded. I thought any perthean would be particular about how a human gets onto their hand. He really doesn't care how I approach this?

"Generally speaking, though," Derrick says, "when a perthean offers you their hand this way, you're expected to respond like this."

Derrick lifts his other hand and moves it towards me, causing my muscles to immediately tense up. What's he doing now?! Is he going to grab me?!

I quickly back away from his hands until I'm flat against the wall. My heart, beating faster and faster, sinks deep in my chest. As my knees buckle beneath me, I find myself slumping against the wall, it being the only thing left holding me up. Derrick's eyes widen, and he immediately retracts both of his hands.

"Hey," he whispers. "Kaylin, are you—"

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the balcony floor. I hide my head behind my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. I shut my eyes tightly as they begin to tingle and glaze over, but hot tears manage to leak from them anyway.

"I can't do this, Derrick!" I sniffle. "I can't keep myself from fearing for my life whenever you reach for me! All I think about is...! Is...!"

With my head buried into my knees, my vision is completely black. My mind's eye, however, is painting pictures of the man from my nightmares. A tall, slim figure with a bit of a tan. Slightly muscular. Clean shaven with a small scar on his left cheek. He has dark brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. He wears a white t-shirt with a few dirt stains, and wrapping around his dark blue jeans at the hips is a black belt with a silver chain. Beneath him is a pair of dirty, beaten up white sneakers.

He seemed so unassuming when I first peered at him from the corner of that alleyway. I was so naive! I had no idea what he—no, what pertheans were capable of until—

"Kaylin," Derrick whispers. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I know you're not ready to tell me what started your fear, and I want you to know that's okay with me."

I sniffle again, and with shaking hands, I wipe the tears from my eyes before reluctantly looking up at my deskmate. His blue eyes are soft with compassion, and his brows are upturned in sympathy.

"Since you were forced to come to this school, you didn't get to choose whether or not you wanted to trust me. So now, I want to ask you..." his voice trails off, and he shifts his gaze to the ground. He takes a deep breath in and out before looking back at me. "Will you make the choice now?"

My lip trembles as I sit up in my spot against the wall. "Make... the choice?" I manage, my voice cracking.

Derrick keeps his eyes fixated on me and slowly lifts his left hand towards me. His index finger is bent to the side, as if to initiate balcony etiquette. His hand passes the balcony railing, but doesn't come any closer to me. I stare at it, confused. What's he getting at?

"Kaylin, will you make the choice to trust me?"

My heart rocks against my chest and my legs begin to go numb. "How can I do that when I'm filled with so much fear?" I ask.

"Trust is an action. It's not something you feel, but rather something you choose to do in spite of your feelings." Derrick smiles softly, tilting his head to the side. "Will you trust me?"

I blink, slowly rising to my feet with trembling legs. The breeze picks up, blowing through my hair and giving me goose bumps from the chill. I hug myself tightly, partly because of the cold and partly because of the burning anxiety deep in my core. My pulse quickens, warning me to stay away from this perthean lest I get hurt—yet I find myself, for whatever reason, approaching the hand in front of me.

Derrick remains silent. I look back up at him, his smile still stretched from ear to ear. All at once, his eyes narrow, turning brown, and a scar appears over his left cheek. I slam my eyes shut, quickly sucking in a breath and blowing it out, before opening one eye to peek up at my deskmate. His blue eyes have returned to normal, and there's no scar on his cheek. I look back at his hand, cautiously tiptoeing towards it as my insides convulse and the world around me begins to spin.

Once I'm close enough, I reach a hand out towards my deskmate's index finger, only to pull it back towards myself out of uncertainty. Can I really do this? Can I really trust a perthean?

I place one hand on my deskmate's finger, and then another. I stand in place, breathless and at a loss for words. It takes all the strength I have left to look Derrick in the eyes.

"I will," I manage to say at last.

My deskmate sighs joyfully, and his eyes soften as if smiling themselves.

"Okay," he whispers.

Seeing the glee on Derrick's face gives me the courage to smile back at him. Now that I've made the choice to trust him, I can't help but wonder what comes next.

"Do you want to try walking onto my hand again?" he asks.

I recall the moment Derrick's hand approached me without warning, shivers running down my spine.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll alert you before I reach for you from now on."

I nod, and Derrick lays his hand down palm side up on the balcony. I bite the inside of my cheek as my legs squirm beneath me, begging me to run away. I made the choice to trust Derrick, I'm not running away!

"Now, I was going to show you how humans are generally expected to react in response to an open palm. May I see your hand?" Derrick asks.

My heart skips a beat. What does he want my hand for? Still shaking where I stand, I gulp, and reluctantly offer up my right hand. I become lightheaded when Derrick takes my hand in between his fingertips. Closing my eyes, I attempt to steady my breathing. I've made my decision. I'm going to trust my deskmate.

Derrick leads me toward his open palm with a gentle tug, and places my hand on his thumb.

"There," he says, letting go of me. "Use my thumb as a support to get onto my hand."

My eyes widen as I gaze at the intricacies of his thumbprint—each curve and crevice forming a uniquely detailed pattern. I spread out my fingers. My hand doesn't even cover a fraction of the print, it's so... little. I stand there in awe, completely mesmerized by the sight in front of me as my cheeks become warmer and warmer.

"Is something wrong?" Derrick asks.

"N-no! Nothing's wrong!" I sputter, embarrassed that I'd been staring at my deskmate's thumbprint for so long.

I press down on Derrick's thumb with nearly all of my strength. It doesn't move an inch. I look toward the palm of his hand, and, using his thumb for support, I manage to lift one leg and plant it on the fleshy surface in front of me. I push off from Derrick's thumb and leap forward into his hand, only to trip on the squishy surface beneath my feet and fall flat on my face!

Derrick gasps. "Are you okay?"

I push against the skin beneath me and manage to get up onto my knees. I nod, my face completely red.

"We'll work on this," my deskmate says, lifting his hand from the balcony and closer to his chest.

"So, um..." I start, my gaze fixed on the palm I'm in. I'm interrupted, however, by a large finger lifting my head until my eyes meet Derrick's.

"Lesson two," Derrick says, "you should always try to look a perthean in the eyes when you speak to them. This makes it easier for us to hear you and perceive your emotions."

"O-oh, okay," I murmur, shivering.

Derrick smiles. "Now, what were you going to say?"

"Oh, I was just about to ask what happens now."

Derrick gazes off into the distance, his brows furrowed in thought. Did he not think he'd get this far?

"I was thinking we could just sit and talk for a while," he says, looking back at me.

"Talk?" I ask. "About what?"

"Anything," Derrick says, moving beside the balcony.

I sway from side to side in my deskmate's hand as he walks. I've gotten more accustomed to this with each passing school day, so I don't have to steady myself as much anymore. But when Derrick lowers himself to sit on the ground, I let out a yelp as the quick motion catches me completely off guard! My insides flip upside down, and I try my hardest to keep from losing my lunch.

"Sorry! Was that too quick?" Derrick asks.

"A little," I squeak, wondering what I've really gotten myself into by agreeing to meet back here with this guy.

"Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle," he says. "So... what do you want to talk about?"

"You're the one who wanted to meet back here in the first place. Shouldn't you be coming up with the ideas?" I ask.

I pick at my nails, keeping my gaze away from Derrick's. Once again, a large finger lifts my head until my eyes are locked with my deskmate's. I can't help but shudder as we glance at each other. Will I ever get used to the weight of his stare?

Derrick smiles reassuringly. "Alright," he says. "Let's talk about you."

My heart skips a beat as blood rushes to my cheeks. "What?! Why me?!" I ask.

"Hey, you said I should be the one coming up with the ideas!" Derrick laughs. "And besides... ever since we became deskmates, I've been curious to learn more about you."

I cross my arms and hang my head low to hide that I'm now blushing even harder. I've always hated talking about myself, it's so embarrassing! I'm not even that interesting!

"Come on," Derrick says, lifting me up to be eye level with him. "Can't you at least tell me a little bit about yourself?"

"I-I—" I stutter, trying to come up with any way to get myself out of this, only to sigh in defeat. "Okay."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once Derrick and I got to talking, the time flew by. I told him a bit about the move, and he was surprised to hear that Dad and I traveled nearly 900 roams from Maedri to Chancelor. That's about 15,000 miles, which would feel like around 18,000 roams for a perthean. He asked why we would move that far, and I filled him in on how Dad really wanted me to go to his old high school. Thinking through it all again, it really doesn't make much sense. But, then again, neither does my dad.

Derrick told me a little bit about himself, too. He told me he lives with both of his parents, and that he has an identical twin brother who is away for university on Erimathea. I asked why they weren't in the same stage for school if they were the same age, and he mentioned something about his brother being able to graduate early. He seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic, though, so I didn't push it much.

Before we knew it, we'd been talking behind the school for well over an hour. The funny thing is, the longer I spent in Derrick's hands, the easier it became to talk to him. I found myself trembling less and less over time, and I was able to maintain eye contact for most of our conversation.

"With exposure and with time," I recall Dad saying, "things can get better."

I shake the memory away. Sure, this meet up with Derrick is helping, but it wasn't Dad's idea!

"Uh-oh," Derrick says, glancing at his phone. "It's nearly 5 o'clock."

I let out a gasp as my eyes widen with realization. Dad's going to be expecting me home any minute now! I don't want him wondering where I've been! How in the world would I explain Derrick trying to help me with my fear? I can already see the smile on Dad's face. I can already hear him telling me how he knew sending me to this school would be a good decision. I can't just let him win, can I?

"Do you have somewhere to be?" Derrick asks.

"I... well," I stammer, not sure how to explain my situation. "My dad's going to be expecting me any minute now, and it usually takes me over an hour to walk home from here!"

"Really? Do you live far from here?"

"I think it's a bit far from here," I say, trying to mentally calculate the distance based on how long my walk home usually is. "I live at the human apartment building on Seren Avenue."

Derrick blinks. "Are you serious?"

"W-what?" I ask, a shudder running down my spine.

"That's right around the corner from here! That's not far at all," Derrick chuckles.

"Well, for you it might not be, but—!"

"I know, I know," Derrick says. "It's twenty times the distance for you."

I rub my arm. "I just don't know how I'm going to explain this to my dad," I mutter. "If he finds out we met up because of my fear, or that we hung out at all... I feel like he's going to hold that over my head."

My deskmate hums, leaning back against the wall. "I might have an idea," he says with a smile, lifting me to his eyes.

"Y-you do?" I stutter, still not used to when he holds me close to his face like this.

"Are you ready for your next assignment?" he asks.

"That depends," I say, scooting back a little in his palm. "what is it?"

"Will you let me walk you home?" He asks. "In favor of taking another step towards overcoming your fear?"

"I-I don't know..."

"Come on! What do you have to lose?"

I look into my deskmate's round blue eyes. I can't tell if he's encouraging me or pleading with me at this point, but does my answer even matter? He already knows where I live, so he can take me home whether I want him to or not. I guess it's good that he's asking, but... is this really a good idea? What will people think of a boy walking a girl home? What if the perthean lobby receptionist at the apartment sees us and tries to strike up another conversation? What if she tells Dad a perthean boy walked his daughter home? What will Dad think of Derrick walking me home? Ugh, he'd probably be ecstatic to see me getting along with my deskmate...

I take a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," I say. What could really go wrong?

"Alright!" Derrick says cheerfully, leaning forward to stand up.

"P-please be careful!" I plead in fear of being knocked about.

"I will," he says, being surprisingly gentle as he rises to his feet. "Now, Seren... Seren... that would be this way."

I sway around in my deskmate's hand with each step he takes. I keep my head down to prevent myself from getting nauseous, but I can tell when Derrick rounds a few corners and ends up on the sidewalk beyond the school grounds.

"We're almost there," he says.

"What? We just left!"

"It's that white building, right? About three blocks down?" Derrick asks, pointing to a small building far off in the distance.

I remember seeing pictures of the outside of the apartment online, and I guess it sort of looks like the building my deskmate is pointing to, but I can't really tell from this distance.

"Even if that's the right place, it's still going to take you at least a half hour to get there from here," I assert.

"Watch me," Derrick says.

"You're not going to try running it, are you?!" I exclaim, a sudden panic taking over.

"What? No, of course not! I'm going to take it nice and steady. Just don't be surprised when we get there in about..." my deskmate says, squinting at the white building in the distance. "Five minutes."

"Ha! Right!" I roll my eyes at his ridiculous estimate. There's no way what would take me an hour and a half is going to take him any less than thirty minutes.

As Derrick begins to walk again, I peek up from his hand every once in a while to see how far we are from our destination. To my surprise, we're approaching it much faster than I first anticipated.

I keep to myself for the most part, until something strange lands in Derrick's palm. I blink a few times, uncertain of what it is I'm seeing. It's long, a bit rounded, and a lovely shade of light pink. I reach out and poke it first, to make sure it's not some kind of bug. When it doesn't fly away, I lean over and take it in my hands. It's soft to the touch, though a bit wrinkly. It almost feels like some kind of plant.

"Hey," I say, my focus shifting back to my deskmate. "Do you know what this is?"

Derrick stops for a moment and looks down at the pink object in my hands. He tilts his head to the side, inquisitively.

"I think it's a petal," he says.

"A petal? From what?" I ask, excitedly scanning the ground beneath me for any flowers. To my disappointment, I don't see any.

"From that tree," my deskmate answers, pointing above and behind me to a massive heap of pink blossoms swinging in the wind, connected together by dark, twisting branches to a thick trunk.

My eyes immediately widen when it comes into view. The big blossoms float about in the sky high above us, and little petals rain down all around like snowflakes. This is a sight I've only ever dreamt about or seen in movies before. I never thought I'd get to see something like this for myself! The sky lights in Maedri's undercity always depicted cherry blossoms around spring every year, and I thought that was a sight to behold! But now I'm seeing the real thing? Am I really awake right now?

As Derrick begins to walk again, I try peeking around him to continue looking at the tree. Given his size, however, this proves fruitless. I slump in his palm, saddened that I only got a few moments with such a beautiful part of nature.

Derrick stops again, looking down at my slouching figure. He backs up a bit, and, reaching up to the tree, tears off a tiny section of a branch covered in flowers. He examines it between his fingertips for a moment, and then hands it to me.

My cheeks redden, and I can't help but let a smile creep across my face. Although I quiver at the sight of Derrick's nearing hand, I take the branch.

"For me?" I ask, my voice trembling.

"Mhm," Derrick hums. "A souvenir."

My breathing picks up speed with my heart rate. "Th-thanks," I manage.

Now I really can't let Dad find out about all this. What would he think of a boy giving me flowers?! I'd throw them right out if not for how mesmerized I still am by the sight of that tree.

After a few more moments of walking, Derrick stops again.

"The Apartments at Seren," he says.

I look up from the flowers in my lap. "No way!" I exclaim, dumbfounded.

"Well," Derrick says, pointing, "that's what it says on the sign."

Sure enough, the sign reads the name of my apartment building. Derrick reaches for the door to enter the perthean lobby.

"Wait!" I shout, only to bite my lip at the realization that I was a little too loud. "Um... is it okay if you just drop me off outside? There's an undercity entrance on the side of the building."

"Wouldn't it be faster to just drop you off inside?" Derrick asks.

"Well, it's just that... my dad likes to talk to the receptionist in there, and I don't know how he'd react if he saw a guy walking me home. And giving me flowers."

"Oh! Don't worry, I understand," he says. "I'll just set you down right here, then."

Derrick gently lowers himself to the ground, and places the hand I'm in down on the sidewalk. I rise from my place in his palm, wobbling a little at first as I struggle to stand. Bookbag and blossoms secured, I carefully inch toward the edge of my deskmate's hand, one step at a time, and then leap off onto the sidewalk.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Derrick asks.

"On Firsday," I say.

"Oh, right," he says. "I'll see you on Firsday."

"Alright. Bye!" I say, sheepishly waving as I make my way toward the undercity entrance on the side of the apartment building.

As I'm walking, I have a sudden realization— I completely forgot to thank Derrick! I turn around, only to see him walking away from the apartment building.

"Hey!" I yell, but Derrick doesn't seem to hear me.

I huff. I don't want to seem rude! I run after Derrick, as fast as I can, until I'm right beside him on the ground.

"Hey! Derrick! Wait!" I shout, hoping he'll hear me.

"Huh?" Derrick looks down.

The glass that veiled my fear for only a moment shatters as I stand face to face with a tall, tall perthean. From the ground. My eyes widen. My insides contort into a knot, and the world begins to spin around me. My heart slams against my ribcage and my legs tremble beneath me, again begging me to run away. Just what do I think I'm doing?

"Kaylin? Is everything okay?" Derrick asks.

"I-I— I w... I wanted..." I stutter and stutter, fumbling over every word as I rack my brain for whatever it was I wanted to say.

Derrick must realize I'm struggling, so he kneels down closer to the ground. "Yes?" He asks.

"I-I... I wanted t-to... I wanted to thank you!" I say, crossing my arm over my chest and leaning forward. "For helping me, and walking me home."

"Oh!" Derrick smiles. "Don't mention it."

"O-okay! S-see you on Firsday," I stammer, all at once giving in to my quaking legs' pleas and running as fast as I can away from Derrick and toward the undercity entrance without looking back.

This fear just isn't going to quit, is it?

[frogsare-friends]

it's so funny how bi women in relationships with men are considered basically straight but bi women in relationships with women aren't considered basically lesbians. omg it's almost like biphobia and misogyny are connected