#anyway enjoy this tiny thing

[egophiliac]

here's the Meleanor chibi speedrun! upfront warning for some flickering and/or flashing throughout from all the sped-up zooming/layer changes.

it turns out I only really recorded up to when I exported the PSD for the first time, so I went back and recorded a bit more to at least show a little of the reworked cape breakdown and background. and then bounced her rig around so you can see a bit of it too! the parts I'm not too embarrassed to show, anyway

even sped up it's still like 47 minutes (s-she took a really long time to make okay), so there are timestamps/chapters in the description if you click through! I certainly don't expect anyone to sit and watch it through, but maybe it'll be interesting to skip around in?

[pocketgalaxies]

crazy how in c2 they'll have three extensive convos checking in with each other while traveling like an hour in-game meanwhile in c3 they've been on the moon for days and still haven't discussed the following:

laudna fucking ate a guy

imogen's mom is a mythical legend amongst the enemy

orym vs. laudna's response to imogen giving into predathos

how did chetney suddenly learn to make hypnotizing toys

delilah briarwood

"some of us are expendable, we should get captured"

anything and everything they said during the trust exercise, including but not limited to:

laudna not being able to distinguish her thoughts from delilah's

imogen's disgust at delilah's inevitable presence

chetney's fear that his new family will leave him

orym's feelings about dorian

fcg relieving stress through murder

fearne's insecurities about their chances of success

ashton's guilt about the shard

and more!

[ropasart]

[explodingstarlight]

EEPY EEPY EEPY EEPY >:(((

andddd the cropped version 🤙

[vanweezer]

sketchbook dump

[honeyhotteok]

hii may i ask for a gun x reader fic, where we just utterly despite our delinquent gun as a normal student, yet he loves us? like, he never makes it obvious but we just hate him, his attitude, his behavior etc, since he always interfere in bloody stuff which we r scared of.. love ya<3

hi anon! thank u for sending in this ask!! tbh writing for gun is a struggle for me but i tried lol also hope u don't mind i went in a slightly different direction with your idea🥹🫶

strawberry milk & cigarettes (gun park x reader)

summary: gun meets gian high school's #1 student.

--

"Yamazaki Yuzuru, to the principal's office. Now."

The class erupts into hushed whispers about the summoned new kid - a delinquent rumored to be making his way throughout Japan in order to study different martial arts, a fighting prodigy of sorts.

Gun stands up and makes his way to the classroom door. A turn of his head paired with a cold glare shuts everyone up, leaving a few of your classmates shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Meanwhile, you're sat there tuning all of this out, head buried in your notebook. Devoting 100% of your concentration to rewriting your notes from the previous class.

Gun is on his way to walking past your desk, but stops in front of it when something catches his attention.

He looks down at your notebook, the pages inscribed with perfectly straight lines of neat handwriting coupled with color-coordinated evenly highlighted blocks. The layers of organization, the penmanship - it's impressive, really.

You feel a pair of eyes on you and notice an inked forearm in front of you peeking through the rolled up black sleeve of his gakuran jacket. Ugh. Great. Another disruptive thug attending this institution, another potential obstacle to your simple goal of pursuing an education.

You finally slowly raise your head to look up at him, unsure why this weirdo is staring at you.

"Can I help y-"

Gun smirks and turns around before your eyes even meet his, walking off before you can finish your sentence.

Leaving you appalled at his complete lack of manners, but with nothing to do but return to your meticulous notes task.

-

"Okay, everyone, pass your homework up to the front."

You turn to the seat behind you to take Gun's paper and you catch a glimpse of the bottom of his sleeve, still bloodied from the fight he just had before class. Your face scrunches up in disgust.

You glance down at his paper and the absolutely illegible chicken scratch scrawled onto it. You can't help but grimace. "What's wrong with your handwriting?"

"Why is it any of your business?"

You scoff at his reply. "Rude bastard," you mutter under your breath.

He leans forward in his seat, a strand of his slicked back black hair falling in front of his face. "What did you just say?"

You're not sure what it is - maybe it's the irritability from lack of sleep, or the academic stress you've been experiencing tenfold this week, or the fact that this new punk's mere existence in your space is starting to get on your nerves. Maybe it's all of the above.

You whip your head back around to face him. "I called you a rude bastard."

He gives you an unreadable stare. The class suddenly falls silent. Shit, maybe you said that a little bit louder than you had intended.

You turn back around in your seat and pass the stack of papers up, both annoyance and embarrassment coursing through you.

Gun's lips curl into an amused smile at the first words anyone at this school has dared utter to his face while looking him in the eye.

-

You walk over to the vending machine down the hall during break time, already fishing for your wallet in anticipation.

Your friend catches up to you and nudges you with her elbow.

"What was that?! You just insulted an actual member of the Yamazaki family!" She says in a hushed voice.

You stare blankly at your friend. "The who?"

"Yamazaki family, of the Yakuza."

You pause. "Wait, he's an actual kid of a Yakuza family? I thought he was just a random pathetic teenage thug nobody..." you mumble. Huh. Maybe it would've served you to not have insulted someone with the ties to actually kill you and get away with it.

You glance at your watch with a wave of your hand. "You know what, I don't have time for this. I'm gonna get my strawberry milk and go study."

You frown as your eyes settle on the empty spiral behind the vending machine window before you. "Aw, they're all out."

Your friend suggests you just buy one of the other drinks instead, but you sigh and tell her to forget it.

Gun, who totally hasn't been trailing a few steps behind you or anything, turns on his heel and beckons one of his new lackeys over.

He opens his mouth, then pauses. "Nevermind, I'll do it myself."

...

Gun's eyes flit between the similar looking white and pink cans of Sangaria Strawberry Milk and Suntory Strawberry Milk sitting on the convenience store refrigerator shelf.

"Dammit, why are there so many strawberry milk brands," he mutters to himself.

He quickly snatches both of them and walks over to the register to pay.

He jogs across the street back to school. He tries to discreetly leave both cans on your desk before the rest of the class trickles back in as break time comes to an end.

You cautiously pick up one of the cans of strawberry milk sitting on your desk, glancing around the room. Uh, what the... Did someone leave these for you?

You lift and inspect the can. "Do you think this could be poisoned?"

Your friend rolls her eyes. "It's a sealed can. Maybe you just have a secret admirer," she says with a grin and nudge.

It's your turn to roll your eyes at her. You shrug and pop open the can. Your spirits instantly lift after your first sip of the creamy fruity beverage.

Gun watches from his desk with his cheek resting in his palm. A faint, extremely weird unfamiliar feeling beginning to stir in his chest.

-

Gun rests his arms on the railing of the upper section of the roof. He takes a long drag of his cigarette.

The door to the lower level of the roof swings open, and to his surprise, it's you walking in. You don't notice him since he remains out of your line of sight unless you look up.

It's been a long, long school day. After pulling another all-nighter studying last night, you're stressed out and sleep-deprived.

You know you should kick this bad habit, maybe after this exam season ends. Which is also what you told yourself last exam season, but whatever. You fumble your cardigan pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and begin to light one.

Gun raises his eyebrows then chuckles at the sight of Gian High School's perfect and pristine #1 student of all people smoking, and smoking on school grounds to top it off.

You whip your head around at the noise.

Gun immediately ducks his head under the wall thanks to his lightning-quick reflexes.

Nothing but a blank wall behind you. Huh. Maybe the sleep deprivation has you hearing shit now, too.

After enough moments pass, he slowly lifts his head and peeks over the ledge at the back of your silhouette.

He smiles and puts out his own cig, beginning to make his way back in through the stairway door. Your little secret safe with him.

[1driedpersimmon]

Scus the //blood I was having feeling and decided the best solution was to dump Sesame in blood

And also Hauchie sweeping him off his feet because oh no

(And Sesame charm for myself hehe, maybe)

[gayofthefae]

Mike and Will - WILDFLOWER by Billie Eilish, Mike POV

@throne-of-crows @urchindog @imatotallynormalteengirlok lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list

[cerealmonster15]

[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet

[hypervoxel]

Oh, so, like, the entire first season's establishment of the characters and their interactions don't actually matter in Helluva Boss. Okay, cool.

Like, I get that characterization develops over time and the writers come up with new ideas and places they want to take the story, but. So much of the Stolas/Blitzø stuff recently isn't character development: it's retconning.

[raymoo--hackery]

I drew a thing for a fic oomf wrote because it was so hot I started ovulating <3

vvv -Here's a link to the fic btw- vvv

[maraschinotopped]

undertale yellow. clutches head in anguish.

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 12)

Links:

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

The past few days at Pacific Deskmate High School have been more or less an improvement over the first two. But despite somehow becoming friends with a perthean, I've been struggling more than ever to hide my fear.

On Secandday, Derrick dropped his Biology textbook right beside me on his desk! All I could do was stand there, adrenaline flooding through my system as I ruminated on how easily I could have been crushed. Would he have even noticed if the book landed right on top of me? Was he trying to kill me? Honestly, it wouldn't be hard at all for him to drop a book like that on me and make my death look like an accident...

On Sirdday, he poked me in the middle of Algebra to ask if I had written down a certain formula before the teacher cleared the whiteboard. I'm not sure whether or not he was trying to be gentle, but the force of that unexpected poke was enough to send me into a spiral about how he could easily pin me down with nothing more than a single finger if he wanted to.

And on Forsday, after our English lesson on Greek and Latin root words, I was glad to watch him happily ramble away on the subject. It was only when he lifted me up off the desk that I guess he somehow managed to forget he was dealing with a human! He snatched me up so fast, so effortlessly, as if I didn't even weigh a thing! I thought for sure I would be flung across the room! He apologized, so I know he could tell I was scared, and that's not good.

If I were to slip up and reveal to Derrick that I have a fear, it'd ruin our friendship for sure! We'd be worse off than we were at square one! I need to make sure I'm doing whatever it takes to keep this fear hidden from him. I've never let a perthean find out about my fear before, and I don't plan on letting one find out now! Who knows how Derrick would react after finding out about my fear?

Ever since Derrick and I became friends, I've felt guilty for having this fear. I don't want him to think I see him as some kind of monster! But standing here on the balcony, watching him approach me, all I can think about is how much I want to get out of here before it's too late!

I tighten my grip on the balcony railing until my knuckles turn white to keep myself from running away, but that doesn't stop my legs from restlessly fidgeting beneath me. My heart pulsates as I'm covered by Derrick's shadow, and my lungs gasp for more air than I can take in with each shallow, shuddering breath. I need to get away from him!

"Hey, Kaylin!" Derrick says, smiling down at me.

My heart skips a beat as I stare into his big blue eyes, nothing short of terrified at the sight of my perthean friend. I try in vain to back up, my grip on the railing stopping me. I know I can't just run away— that would reveal that I'm afraid. As slowly and as steadily as I can, I take a deep breath and hold the cold surface air in for a moment before setting it free.

"Hi, D-Derrick!" I say, kicking myself for stuttering.

"How are you this morning?" Derrick asks, holding out his index finger for me.

I know I can do this, I've done it before. I release my hands from the balcony railing and carefully wrap my arms around Derrick's finger. It twitches in response to my touch, catching me by surprise. It still blows my mind how something as minute as a twitch to a perthean can translate into a harsh jolt for a human like me!

"I'm good!" I manage to squeak as Derrick lifts me from the balcony. "And you?"

"I'm doing well," he responds with a slight chuckle that I'm almost certain I can feel through his hand as he sets me down in his palm.

Once I'm settled in his hand, Derrick turns and starts heading to our first class. As we're moving along, I find myself staring at the fingers that surround me. They're a bit... close. Too close. Each long, curled digit is about the same length as I am, and about as wide as a tree trunk. A trunk of a human-scaled tree, that is— like we have in the undercity. I don't even want to consider the thought of a being with fingers that would match the width of a perthean-scaled tree! Such a being could easily hold a perthean in their hand the way my deskmate is holding me now...

I watch Derrick's fingers as they curl inward, every second inching closer and closer to where I sit in the center of his palm. My core tightens and my racing heart sinks in my chest. Does he realize what he's doing?

Without warning, each massive extremity begins to slowly wrap around me. I let out a gasp. What's he doing?! I look up at Derrick as his grip on me tightens. He's... smiling?!

My insides churn upon seeing a twisted smile plastered across my deskmate's face, and narrowed brown eyes that show no signs of mercy. My heartbeat rings in my ears as I squirm between the fingers fastened around me in a pathetic attempt to escape from Derrick's unyielding grip on me.

"W-what are you doing?!" I stammer, trembling in my deskmate's clutches.

"What I should have done the moment I first laid eyes on you," he says, letting out a loud, deranged cackle as he tightens his grip on my figure.

As I'm gasping, fighting for air, a sob rises in my throat.

"I-I thought we were friends!" I cry.

My deskmate lifts me close to his eyes. Those narrowed brown eyes... there's something off about them.

"No real perthean would be caught dead befriending a pathetic little weakling like you!"

"P-please!" I beg, tears streaming down my face as I struggle with all my might to escape this perthean's grasp. "D-Don't hurt me!"

"Huh?"

I open my eyes and look up at my deskmate. He's stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at me. His big, blue eyes look to be searching mine for some kind of explanation to what must have sounded like quite a perplexing remark.

Blue...! I knew his eyes were blue!

I look at my surroundings. I'm in Derrick's open palm, and his fingers are only bended toward me slightly. I look at myself. One of my legs is curled inward, and the other is stretched out as if I tried to scoot backwards. Oh no. What happened here?

"Kaylin?" Derrick says as he lifts me closer to his face, his eyes filled with concern. "Don't what?"

"I-I—" I stutter.

I stare into Derrick's eyes, my heart sinking further in my chest with each rapid beat. I can't think of anything to say! He's bound to realize I have a fear now!

"Don't... don't forget there's an English quiz today!" I blurt out.

Really?! That's all I could think to say?!

"Oh, is that all?" Derrick says with a chuckle. "I could have sworn..."

I resist the urge to curl up into a ball with all my might as I quake in my deskmate's hand. Is he about to call me out?

"Nah, it's nothing. Nevermind," he says, continuing the walk to our first class.

That was close. Too close.

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

Brittney huffs and puffs down the hall with the neon pink and orange lunchbox she retrieved from her locker after gym. Even after cool-down, showering, and changing back into our regular uniforms, I'm surprised to see her still struggling to catch her breath.

"Hey," I say, coming alongside her after we reach the cafeteria. "Good running today."

"Thanks!" She laughs. "Running always takes it out of me, but knowing lunch was coming was enough to keep me going!"

We sit down together at an empty table and take out our lunch. I unwrap what I'm decently sure is a turkey and swiss sandwich and take a bite. Brittney takes out a thermos and a grilled cheese.

"Grilled cheese again?" I ask.

"I guess so. What's the note of the day?" Brittney asks.

I'd completely forgotten to check for a note from Dad. I rummage around the brown paper bag in front of me and pull out a note. This one says:

What is a geode without its crystals, an oyster without its pearl?

So it is with a person's heart.

- Zenara

"Wow," Brittney says. "I didn't think your Dad was one to quote Zenara."

"He found one of my mom's old poetry books when we were moving and has been flipping through it over the past few days," I say, setting the scrap of paper down on the table. "I'll probably be getting more notes like this."

"So..." Brittney says, folding her hands together and propping her chin on top of them. "Speaking of looking into people's hearts, how are things going with Derrick?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, befuddled.

Brittney rolls her eyes. "You know, seeing him for how he is on the inside in spite of how he appears on the outside! Like the quote?"

"So that's what that means?" I say, looking back to the note. I've never really been one for poetry— it usually goes right over my head. I figured it was the same with Dad, and especially Brittney.

"Anyway, spill it! How are you two getting along?" Brittney asks, eyes wide with anticipation.

"You say that like we're dating or something!"

"You know what I mean, girl, now spill!"

"Well," I sigh, "things are going... well, they're going."

Brittney pouts. "Come on, you know I want more than that!"

"Okay, fine, fine!" I say, waving my hands. I stare at my sandwich in contemplation. "Ever since we became friends... I've felt guilty for having a fear. And not only that, it's been getting harder to hide it!"

"Go on," Brittney says, her brows turning upward.

"I guess it's only a matter of time before Derrick finds out about my fear. And after that, I'm not so sure he'll want to stay friends with me."

"Why not?" Brittney asks.

"I mean— who would want to be friends with someone who only thinks of them as some kind of monster that's out to get them?" I rest my cheek on my hand in defeat. "Maybe I should just tell him I have a fear and get it over with. That way, at least I'll know how he feels, and if he doesn't want to be friends anymore then it'll hurt less now than it would if he found out later on."

"I-I wouldn't do that!" Brittney blurts out.

"What?"

"I-I mean, normally I'd tell you to be honest, but Derrick..." Brittney trails off, looking down into her soup.

What's she going on about?

"Brittney, what about Derrick?" I ask.

Brittney shakes her head. "Nothing. It's nothing. What I mean to say is... I don't think telling him outright that you have a fear would be the best idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, some pertheans don't really know how to act around humans who are afraid of them. For some, it might get to them."

My insides twist. "Are you saying Derrick is like that? Would he really be hurt to find out about my fear?"

"Well..." Brittney says, averting her gaze. "All I'm saying is I wouldn't tell him if I were you. Derrick is... sensitive."

I know Brittney's known Derrick much longer than I have. If she says I shouldn't tell him about my fear, I'm inclined to trust her judgment. I just can't help but wonder... what isn't she saying?

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

"So, what are you up to this weekend?" Brittney asks as we approach the spot on the balcony where we've been meeting up with the boys.

"I don't know, I might try my hand at gardening. We found one of those indoor planters when we were going through our stuff before the move."

"Ooh!" Brittney says, clapping. "Gardening! I've always wanted to try! Especially since the undercity is so void of greenery compared to above ground."

"After that, Dad and I will probably watch Stranded together," I say, wondering how much we need to catch up on before Restday night's new episode.

Brittney's eyes get wide and she grabs onto both of my arms. "Did you say... did you say Stranded?!"

"Um... yeah?" I say as I look down at the hands gripping my arms, her grip a bit too tight for my liking.

"I. Love. Stranded. It's like, my favorite show ever!" She gasps. "Do you read fanfiction?! I'm working on this one story about Jack and Merlot— I should totally send it over to you!"

"Hey guys!" my deskmate says.

Dread fills the air, and a burning anxiety creeps up my spine. My legs quake, and I nearly trip over them as I leap behind Brittney to shield myself from this perthean boy. This perthean boy... who's supposed to be my friend. I realize I shouldn't be hiding from Derrick, especially since I don't want him to find out about my fear— but no matter what I do, I can't seem to stop myself from shaking uncontrollably like a cold, wet puppy!

"Kaylin? Are you—" Derrick starts.

Brittney laughs. "If you think this is bad, you should have seen her this morning when I snuck up on her with a hug!"

What? Brittney didn't do that! I didn't even see her today until it was time for gym! I look at Brittney, and she looks back at me. She winks.

"Ha, ha... yeah," I say, slowly coming out from behind my friend. I fold my hands together in front of me, all the while trying my hardest to suppress my unrelenting trembling.

I look up at Derrick, who stares right back at me with a blank expression. He hums flatly. Does he buy it?

"Well, I'm not sure where Kevin went, but Kaylin and I should probably be getting to Biology," Derrick says. "Are you okay waiting by yourself?"

"Yeah," Brittney says. "Kevin's a slacker. I'm used to it by now. You guys go on ahead!"

A knot forms in my throat as Derrick lifts his index finger and places it in front of me. With how many times we've had to do this so far, even today alone, shouldn't I be used to this by now? I try to be discreet about wiping my sweaty hands on my skirt, and then manage to wrap my arms around Derrick's finger in spite of the sinking, spiraling feeling in my gut.

"Have fun, you two!" Brittney calls out as Derrick lifts me from the balcony.

I expect Derrick to say something in turn, but he remains silent. He places me in his palm and turns to head to our Biology class. He remains silent the whole trip there.

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

Our Koronian class has nearly passed us by, and Derrick has barely spoken a word to me since the incident at the balcony before Biology. I try to focus on the lesson being taught, but the history of adjectives in the Koronian language fails to occupy my brain as much as my anxiety does.

Does he know I have a fear? Is he mad at me? Does he think I see him as a monster? Does he still want to be friends with me, or is he thinking about some way to go about telling me how inconsiderate it is to have a fear of pertheans? What if he hates me? What if we end up being stuck in an even more awkward relationship than what we had when we first met? What if he doesn't want to be deskmates anymore?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Derrick's notetaking. I know he loves languages, so I was sure he'd be taking as many notes about Koronian as possible during class. What I find odd, though, is that I haven't heard him write anything down until now. After a few seconds of pencil scratching, he goes silent again.

I try to take my focus off of Derrick and keep it on the teacher, but just as I tune back into the lesson, his notebook slides into my peripheral vision. Do I dare look? I pretend I don't see the notebook and shift my focus away from Derrick. After a moment, he slides the notebook closer to me. As worried as I am, I can't help but wonder what he wants to tell me. I hesitate, but take the bait and read the note presented to me.

Are you afraid of me?

Hot blood rushes to my cheeks, and my heart pounds against my ribcage. My whole frame trembles as I turn my head to the shaking hands in my lap. He knows.

I try to steady my quivering breaths. I can't let myself panic. Not now. Not in the middle of this class, not in front of all these pertheans... not in front of Derrick. We're so close to the end of the schoolday. All I have to do is sit through the rest of Koronian, get to the balcony, and go home! He'll forget all about this tomorrow, and I'll have a better chance to hide my fear then.

Derrick taps his notebook, drawing my attention back to it. Why is he so insistent? He underlines the question he wrote with his pencil. He's not going to be satisfied without an answer, is he?

I stare down at my own notebook laying atop my desk. What should I do? Should I answer? Should I try to continue ignoring him? How long can I keep this up?

As I'm lost in contemplation again, a large, warm surface presses against my back, poking me. That's it. I scrawl down a response in my notebook.

Why are you so insistent on me answering this question?

I can't keep from trembling as I push my notebook to the side of my desk. Derrick leans over in his seat. He's so close! I try to take deep breaths in and out, but my constant shuddering makes my breathing anything but smooth.

Derrick sits back in his seat. Silence. Maybe he'll finally leave me alone. Just as I begin to let my shoulders droop and my muscles relax, I hear it again: the scratching of Derrick's pencil against paper. A few seconds later, he pushes his notebook back into my view.

Why are you so insistent on not answering this question?

He just won't let it go! What should I say?! What should I do?!

Brittney said I shouldn't tell Derrick about my fear because he's 'sensitive.' But what was it she didn't tell me? What's going to happen if I'm honest with Derrick? Should I lie?

Derrick underlines the question again.

Are you afraid of me?

My heart sinks, weighing me down, and there's an aching unease deep in my inner core. Do I tell him? Can I tell him? I stare at my notebook as anxiety creeps up my back and threatens to choke me. Hands trembling and barely able to grip my pencil, I write my response and slide my notebook back into Derrick's view.

I'm sorry.

He's quick to scribble down a response.

You're sorry?

I don't think and simply let my pencil glide along my paper. I slide over my answer:

I'm sorry that I'm afraid of you.

I sit in my anxiety, nervously awaiting Derrick's inevitable reply. What will he say now? Will he call me a coward? A bigot? Would he call me... a tiny?

Silence. He must be satisfied with my answer. I just hope things aren't awkward for us after class. I rub my legs to keep them from jumping up and down under my desk, and return my focus to the teacher.

Scribbling. It's quiet at first, then harsh. There's the sound of an eraser rubbing the paper, followed by more harsh scribbling. I clench my fists as tears prick the edges of my eyes. He's really going to let me have it, isn't he? My heartbeat, oddly enough, slows down as I think through what must be in store for me. Deep down, he's no different than that man, is he? Merciless. Unforgiving. Cruel. No perthean could ever be understanding when someone thinks of them as a monster, could they?

Derrick slides his notebook back over. Blinking back tears, I brace for impact, breathing in and out, and turn to see what it is he's penned.

Let me help you.

What? What's he talking about? He's not going to let me have it? I hesitate before looking back at Derrick as apprehensively as ever. He's... smiling.

"What?" I whisper.

He points to what he wrote on the page, and looks back at me. I spin back around in my seat, my mind buzzing with questions. What does he mean? Is that even possible? Is he joking? I pull my notebook back towards myself and start writing. Once I'm finished writing, I push my notebook back into Derrick's view.

What are you talking about?

Again, he doesn't hesitate, but writes his response swiftly.

Are you free to meet behind the school after class?

An uneasiness creeps up from my gut and into my throat. I gulp. He wants to meet after school? What does this mean? Is he serious, or does he have something more sinister in mind? I stare at my hands in my lap. What should I do?

I turn around and look Derrick in the eyes. As he smiles at me, his wide blue eyes seem to smile, too. I have no idea what to say, and I can barely breathe! He looks at me with anticipation. Almost as if to ask, 'Well? What do you say?'

I nod. I have no idea what I'm supposed to expect, but at this point, what do I have left to lose? Derrick laughs softly as he continues smiling at me.

"Mr. Drake and Miss Finch!" the teacher says, raising her voice and catching Derrick and I by surprise. "Is there something the two of you would like to share with the rest of the class?"

I turn back around in my seat, my heart fluttering and my cheeks as hot as ever.

"No, m'am!" Derrick and I both exclaim.

I try to focus on the lesson again, but all that comes to mind is my deskmate. Really, what could he possibly mean by helping me? And what did I just sign up for?

[the-star-and-the-smols]

Feeling small

This is essentially just me writing g/t comfort for myself involving my sizeshifter s/i (Cass, she/they) and Sean because I'm a nerd who likes to be comforted by big Irish outlaw okay

Basically the first time he encounters me smal

(completely sfw! Just fearplay, a bit of angst, fluff and comfort :))

All it took was a few words, making my head feel thick, sending a chill through my veins. I found myself dwindling in the worst place I could possibly imagine: Van Der Linde camp. I ducked behind the tents as my stature escaped me, feet becoming inches within seconds, my little legs running as fast as they can carry me onto the shore of Flat Iron Lake. At that moment, I felt the desire to just bury myself under the dirt and hope for some quick and painless mercy.

"Cass! W-where'd ya go?"

I heard him calling out for me.

"Cass? Mary-Beth, have you seen Cassie?"

"I'm afraid not, Sean. Why?"

"We were just chattin', and she just... ran off!"

"I'm sure she'll come around, Sean. Just give her some space."

"But.." He sighed. "I'm real worried about her. I think she was cryin'. I just... wanna make sure she's okay."

My lungs ached. I heaved, panted, gasped as I collapsed onto the ground, a mixture of sand and dirt. I desperately tried to ground myself enough to stay conscious.

Steady. Steady. Breathe.

With no clue of what to do or where to go, I attempted to right myself long enough to get bearings on my situation, standing on wobbly knees. Luckily this part of camp was quiet in the evenings, less of a chance to get trampled.

Thump. Thump.

Oh no.

My knees buckled as I fell to the earth once again, trembling. Stop trembling. Stop it. You're making it worse.

My legs weren't working anymore; they'd long been tired out from sprinting and the panic that seeped through them.

Thump. Thump.

My vision doubled. I grabbed at my hair, clawed at my skin, anything to get me awake from this nightmare. My lungs felt like popped balloons, the ground quaking beneath me with each gargantuan step.

Thump. Thump.

"What the fuck?"

I dared to look up, his once unintimidating form now stretching far above me like a tower, growing smaller in the distance. I felt the world spin as I looked upon his face, etched with concern and awe, bent over above me, what felt like dozens of feet high.

"That you, Cass?"

His voice boomed all around me, the slight shuffling of his feet against the ground like tremors. I swallowed hard. God, what was he going to do? What was he going to say? What was he thinking? Horrific images flashed through my mind uncontrollably; I was completely at his mercy. Memories of being chased after, mishandled, dehumanized.

I nodded slightly, not daring to make eye contact.

He slowly lowered himself to his knees, the impact making me wobble.

"It's alright. I just wanted to check on ya. You okay?"

I shook my head, staring at his hands, watching their every movement. as his hands slowly reached out toward me, I flinched, stumbling back, getting a view of his face. How sympathetic he looked right now, mouth slightly agape, hands pulling back in surrendered position.

"I-I won't hurt ya, I promise! I just want a good look at ya, please. Make sure yer not hurt."

I couldn't break away from those eyes. His irises were magnificent pools of green, the whites of his eyes slightly reddened with emotion. I could almost detect tears pooling at the corners. I couldn't run from them forever.

"'Course, if-if ya don't want to-"

"Okay," I responded, sighing up at him. "Just... Just be gentle with me, please. I'm fragile right now..."

He pursed his lips.

"Of course I will."

He reached out again with one hand, this time more slowly, holding it in front of me with slightly curled fingers. I attempted to stand, pushing myself up with my hands, turning over onto hands and knees. Shoe making contact with dirt, I pushed against the ground, my leg wobbling, feeling my knee buckle under the pressure.

I couldn't do it.

"My legs are all worn out," I managed to choke out, trying to hide the desperate whimpers that come with my sobs.

"Tha-That's okay,"

he spoke in an almost whisper.

"Just- could I pick you up?"

Seeing no other choice, I nodded.

"Here, let me just..."

Fingers thick as logs reached around my small form, delicately gripping at the sides of my waist, firm but soft. I felt myself being lifted a few inches above the ground, and another hand came to lay flat below me as I was lowered onto it, my legs coming to rest in a cross shape as I sat down on the dip of his palm, the squishy flesh surrounding me comfortably. The hand cupped around me, fingers curling over me as I felt my platform rise.

Wind thrashed against me, whipping at my hair and coiling in my ears with a strange sound as he rose to his feet. I steadied myself with my hands on the soft of his palm, finding a certain comfort with the sensation. He cupped his other hand over me, shrouding me in darkness. The rays of the moon crept between his fingers, dancing across my miniscule form and the living floor and walls that embraced it. With each step he took, a soft boom and a small quake. I appreciated the security he offered me, though I wished I could see where he was taking me.

"You're goin' to be okay."

I was taken by surprise, noticing the gentle, deep rumble of his voice through his hand as he cooed softly. Knowing he couldn't see me, I gave his hand a gentle pat to let him know I appreciated the sentiment.

I sensed us nearing our destination as he turned around, and my platform shook one final time as he sat, gently lifting his hand away, exposing his face.

"There now, that ain't so bad, right? I need to get a good look at ya, make sure this ain't another one o' them weird dreams I keep havin'."

He cupped his other hand next to the one I occupied, lifting me up close to his face. Every detail was so massive, so all-encompassing, so.. beautiful. Piercing eyes with dilated pupils looked down upon me, studying with an intense curiosity.

"So tiny,"

he whispered, almost in disbelief, his whiskey breath washing over me.

I backed up slightly, trying to take everything in. Though he'd done well in trying to comfort me, the intensity of his gaze really didn't make me feel any better; I braced myself for crude remarks or rough mishandling.

"Why didn't ya tell me you could shrink, too?"

I hesitated to come up with a straightforward answer for him; instead I thumbed at his flesh, my eyes averted to the calm lake beyond, grounding myself with the sound of the water as it gently lapped against the shore.

"Please, talk to me,"

he almost whimpered.

"It-it's just something I can do, same with me being able to grow. I didn't tell you because I know what people can be like when they see a weak spot in someone."

He adjusted his elbows, brow furrowing.

"How do ya mean?"

"Well," I sighed. "Let me put it this way. People ain't always what they sell themselves to be. Or they're all friendly, they hide the part of them that's cruel and sadistic until they find your Achilles' heel. Then they change, and they aren't so friendly anymore, now they've got something they can wound you with, to use to keep you in line."

I try to keep eye contact with him as I tell him. He nods.

"I see what ya mean, Cass... Really, I do,"

he told me earnestly.

"But I swear on me life, I wouldn't dare hurt a hair on yer head, long as I live. I ain't that kinda person. And don't worry about none o' them folks in camp. I won't tell a soul,"

he reassured slowly, hushed. There was more than a tinge of vulnerability in his speech, that distinct Irish twang becoming more pronounced with his emotions.

"Thanks," I replied. "Please don't."

He shuffled his hand underneath me slightly, leaning his head further in to be closer to me.

"You're safe with me. Don't you worry. I'll take care of ya."

His hand cupped around me in a comforting gesture. Before I could think, I found myself instinctively leaning into the flesh, plush and warm. I felt his pulse through his palm against my back, grounding and somewhat intimate, in a way that felt pure and genuine.

"I got an inklin' you didn't make yerself so little on purpose,"

he admitted earnestly.

"Tell me, what happened?"

I felt the skin on my arms go cold as he asked me. I didn't want to tell him it was him that made me upset. Looking up at those huge puppy dog eyes, raw with emotion, I felt as though I just wouldn't be able to bear the utterance.

But lying direct to those eyes would only hurt worse.

"Truth is, Sean, just in the moment, somethin' you said... I guess... rubbed me the wrong way."

As the words escaped my lips, they hung on the air, imbuing it with a surreal thickness. I didn't know what to expect. In truth, I trusted Sean, but there was something deeper, more sinister inside me that taunted me with a chilling imagery of crushed bones, bruised skin and cruel laughter as I waited painfully for his response.

He sighed, warm breath meeting my skin.

"Ah, Cass, I'm so sorry. I was jus' jokin', tryin' to give you a laugh. I didn't think I was gonna hurt ya. If I had, I woulda said nothin' at all. "

"And I'm sorry... Sorry I ran away instead of just being honest about it."

"You can always be honest with me. I understand. I just... I like to make ya laugh and smile. I love it when ya smile. In the moment, makes me heart feel lighter, it does."

He chuckled quietly, a sudden thumb on my shoulder sending chills through me, making me jump. His thumb retreated as he studied my expression with worry. I couldn't help but smile up at him, hinting at him to continue with the gesture, to which he complied.

"I... I like it when you smile too. I like to see you happy. But you don't have to be happy all the time for my sake, y'know."

"I know."

I laughed half-heartedly, tracing the lines in his palm with my finger. "Bet it was quite a surprise, findin' me like this."

"I'd say so,"

he chuckled lightly.

"If I'd've known it, I would've watched me bloody step! Sorry if I scared ya there, by the way."

"'S okay. You're making up for it now, I think." I grinned, placing a hand on his thumb, taking notice of every groove in his thumbprint.

He froze, his eyes growing wider.

"Woah..."

He wiggled his thumb back and forth slightly, my hand still steady in place. We both giggled, my platform quaking slightly. It was surreal, being able to share a moment like this with him at this size. It felt a lot more... homey than I'd anticipated.

"So, when do ya think you'll be able to grow big again?"

"Don't know. I can't control my emotional shrinking that well, either. Might be a while before I get the strength to grow back again. I'll have to recuperate."

"Well then, in the meantime, what's say we go and get you some food, then, eh? Sound good?"

"Oh, that sounds divine. What sort of goodies are we talkin' here?"

"Fruits and cheeses and wines, only the finest for my lovely wee lassie Cassie!"

His tone got bolder and more playful, gesturing with his free arm.

"Oh, you!" I groaned with a grin, banging a fist against his palm playfully. I loved hearing my name come from his lips, especially in some stupid silly affectionate rhyme.

"Dunno where I'll put ya."

He scanned his clothes for a secure spot to place me.

"Don't have any pockets on me. Except..."

He turned to look at the back of his jeans.

"No," I sternly replied, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

"Fair enough,"

he laughed along.

"Wanna ride on me shoulder?"

"Sounds good!" I replied, the warm feeling of butterflies in my gut rising as he grinned at my response, familiar and intense. So long as it was with him, I didn't feel so small after all.

(might write more onto this l8r. No proofreading babey we suffer our mistakes like men)

[jiyaneru]

i don't know where to put my hands

[nonbinaryaubrey]

pinwheel locations - faraway town

pinwheel placements - memory lane