#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?

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[playedwright]

is it cool that i said all that? buddie, 846 words

“i’m gay,” eddie tells him, in the bunk across from him when buck can barely make out his features in the dark. they’re supposed to be sleeping—they still have the other half of their forty-eight on ahead of them, and they’ve had enough rough calls. still, they’re the only ones in the bunk room. buck wonders if that’s the only reason eddie says it.

“oh,” says buck. he curls his fingers underneath his head and wills his eyes to adjust so he can better see eddie’s face. “eddie, that’s—that’s great.”

eddie lets out a soft chuckle. if their bunks were any closer, buck thinks he’d be able to feel the puff of air against his mouth. “is it?” he asks self-deprecatingly, and buck inhales sharply, always ready to defend him. “i’m kidding. it’s just… i’m thirty-five. i feel like i should have had an inkling by now, you know?”

“eddie,” buck whispers. “i had my gay awakening eight months ago.”

“it’s different,” says eddie immediately. there’s a ferocity in his voice that almost astounds buck—almost, until he realizes that same intensity was mirrored in his own blood only seconds ago. the devotion to defend, ingrained in them both. “it’s you.”

and there—the sincerity in those two words, simple as they seem but carrying the weight of something much bigger. buck’s mouth goes dry with something akin to hope.

“what does that mean?” he asks. outside of the bunkroom, something clatters to the floor and hen’s amused laughter peals through the station. buck thinks, not for the first time, that it’s no wonder this house is his happy place.

“buck…” eddie whispers. hesitant. and in that moment, buck knows.

“i want you,” buck says in a rush. there’s another word there, on the tip of his tongue, but he’s too afraid to say it. things get ruined when he says it, too soon or too intensely or too often. “i want to be with you, i think i’ve wanted to since we first met but i—i just didn’t realize it. it’s you, and it’s chris, and you’re it for me. you’re my family, and i want it. i want you.”

he’s so familiar with the lines of eddie’s face, the way it changes when eddie breathes or laughs or cries. and he can’t see it, not really, but he knows anyway that eddie is beaming at him, a small but hopeful thing. he thinks he’d know eddie’s face so familiarly even if he never got to see it again.

“buck,” eddie whispers again. there’s the sound of the bunk shifting and then, through the dark, eddie’s hand reaching for him. buck twines their fingers together like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before.

“did i say too much?” buck asks, suddenly terrified. it’s always been a delicate thing, him and eddie. and eddie just came out, buck thinks, so maybe it’s too soon, too quick too much too bad—

“evan,” eddie says reverently. just one word, buck’s name, and from eddie’s mouth it sounds better than it ever has before. it sounds rare, when eddie uses it. special. important. “i love you.”

oh, thinks buck.

“oh,” he says aloud. all of the static in his brain quiets, until there’s nothing to hear but the soft sounds of eddie breathing, and the suspended reality that exists outside of the bunkroom. “that’s good.”

“yeah?” eddie says, breathless and laughing and the most beautiful buck’s ever seen him even if the only thing buck can really see is the shine of eddie’s eyes.

“yeah,” buck mimics. he wants to kiss eddie—he wants to climb into eddie’s bunk with him and press their bodies together, for no purpose except for to feel the closeness and the warmth of eddie’s body heat, and he wants to kiss every inch of eddie’s face from his lips to the freckle underneath his left eye. but they’re at work, and the rest of their family is barely outside of this bubble they’ve created, and when buck kisses eddie for the first time he wants to do it right. so instead of crowding himself into eddie’s space, buck tells him, “because i love you, too.”

eddie laughs again. it’s beautiful. he’s always beautiful. buck loves him. “that’s good,” eddie repeats. “it’d kind of suck if you didn’t.”

“yeah,” buck agrees. he’s only just gotten a hint of this, of them, and he already knows he’s ruined for anyone else ever again.

“when the shift ends,” eddie begins, and buck’s fingers tighten around his, “come home with me. stay with me.”

buck huffs out a laugh. “you askin’ me to move in before you’ve even kissed me, diaz?”

“i’m asking you to move in so i can kiss you all the time,” eddie corrects. buck is powerless to stop the grin that spreads across his face.

“well, with an offer like that,” buck says, and eddie squeezes his fingers again and buck dreams of kissing those fingers one by one. buck loves him. they’re in love.

and for a moment, it’s the only thing that matters.

[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.

[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

[danieyells]

Acimo unscrambles into Camio, and Camio is depicted as standing on burning coals when answering questions, which I assume is the aspect of it that grants Ritsu his pseudo-invulnerability

And I imagined that when Ritsu made his wish it was something like to be unshakeable and impenetrable. He mostly meant it figuratively but as @ritsu-shinjo puts it, being immune to being punched in the face makes Ritsu very smug.

And I imagined that Camio gave him a trial. Just a little one. Maybe even before he made the wish--Leo said the demons chose them after all, so I can imagine that Camio tested Ritsu before he was ever in a situation where he would be desperate enough to sell his soul for a wish.

Ritsu found himself in some vast void or pit in hell or something. But the only thing of note between him and the bird-demon watching him was a little road of burning coals. And all Camio asked him to do was walk to where he stood across the coals. If it hurt too much or he was too frightened the path was narrow enough that he could go off the side. But if he truly believed himself worthy of the change he desired--if he really wanted to be able to help his father--he need only walk through the coals, for the trials ahead of him in life would be equally difficult, if not moreso. His soul was the only cost. But he would live normally. Should Camio need more of him, such as to use his soul while his body lived on or some such, he would know.

Ritsu, of course, requested this contract in writing. It was provided and signed(Camio 'signed' with one of his little clawed bird feet in red. . .'ink'--unsettling but not all that different from a hanko stamp Ritsu supposed) and Ritsu looked at this coal path and his bare feet(this was definitely a dream because his pajamas had mysteriously disappeared and he felt unbothered by his own nudity) and. He walked. And it burned but he was determined. He was worthy. He wasn't going to back down.

And the coals started to give way and sink a bit. They sank his ankles and they burned the whole of his feet. But he kept walking through them, trying to lift his feet up further to unsink himself. But he sank further, down to his calves. It wasn't too late to turn back and escape--but he refused to show weakness or doubt in himself. He wasn't going to show weakness to some nightmare. He kept walking and sank further--knees thighs hips and finally one step just dropped him wholly into a pit where the coals swallowed him completely.

At first he was terrified--but he realized it. Didn't hurt? It was a little hard to breathe, the fire was swallowing his oxygen, but he wasn't in pain. And if he moved his arms or legs the coals moved out of the way. He felt extremely warm, like burning, but not pain and feom what little he could see of his own hands through the coals he wasn't. Burning at all. His body was fine.

He kept walking in the direction he'd been facing. He felt a wall in front of him and when he pressed his hand against it he felt the coals covering him fall away to the ground around him and he was back in his room, pajamas back where they ought to be, no hellish void and his skin cooling down, the only coal left burning in his own hand with the little demon bird stood atop it.

It sang and for a moment he understood. Congratulatory. "Well done, Coalwalker."

The bird flapped its wings and the coal in his hand turned to the contract they had signed, Camio itself becoming a thick smoke he inhaled with a sharp gasp but didn't feel any need to cough from his lungs.

"Should you need the agreed upon strength again, you need only recite the incantation: Acimo."

"Acimo. . . ." He felt stiff, but not tense. Heavy, but not weighed down by his body. Sliding, and tilting, and-- "aah!"

His mattress slid and tilted sideways off of his bed, depositing him onto the floor with a thump much louder than he was sure was truly necessary, his bedside table sliding along the floor some from his head thumping against it. It didn't hurt despite that he felt his elbow collide with the floor--and when he squinted into the dark, hearing his mother running down the hall towards his room in response to the noise, he was certain he saw a divot in the wood where he'd cracked it on impact. None on the rest of the floor at least, but it seemed the desire to be 'unshakeable' had manifested in an increased density.

"Ritsu! Are you alright!?" His mother called into his room. "I'm coming in, okay?"

"Yes, that's fine--I'm alright. . . ." He wasn't in any pain at all. Not from his elbow in the floor or his head hitting the corner of the table. No pain, no blood, no disorientation beyond what was expected from sliding down suddenly--and the sudden lights from the hall and his room light turning on once his mother had opened the door and run over. She reached out to examine him, worried for his wellbeing. Noted his tension--the stiffness that hardened his body when he recited that incantation--and he reassured her that he was simply tense from suddenly waking up falling down. Something guided him to how he could disable the power and he 'relaxed' with a few deep breaths before his mother could worry over him further, although she still insisted on a quick trip to the emergency room to make sure he hadn't had some sort of seizure or fractured anything in his fall.

They replaced his bedframe and had the floor repaired in the coming weeks.

On the way home from the emergency room with his clean bill of health, his mother pointed out to him how rare and odd it was to see a thrush so far into the city. It tweeted at him, and he knew it was for him though he no longer understood its song, and flew away.

It would be a long time before he found use for the physical power he'd been given, but knowing that he was practically immune to physical pain bolstered his mind. Unshakeable. Impenetrable.

He need only become a fully fledged lawyer--the best lawyer in Japan--and he would absolve his father of the mounting accusations against him. This wish was only a piece in his true wish.

Nothing would get in his way, now that he had walked the coals.

[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)

[atlabeth]

ppl asking for second and third parts without commenting, reblogging, or even liking is always so funny bc. you haven’t supported me or my writing and here you are asking for more? and then you’re not gonna rb or comment if i do write a sequel you’re just gonna ask for even more?? oh okay lol

it’s like yeah no i’m not a person just a writing machine 😍

[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