#emotional shifting au

[lilywily143]

CUPID N'S ARE DONE

Emotional Shifting AU

N in this au would be giving a bunch of gifts to his partners and be in Love Mode (Koi) all day

StationaryN! He just wants to dress up in lovecore

First Workers N is gonna go to a dance for Valentines (also this is just my design drawing canon N as well: so two birds, one stone)

Offbrand AU. He's in some nice clothes (and offscreen, the kids are in matching clothes)

Operation Cheer-Up. This N help out making crafts with littler kids

(Also I already did scp 14 and she's already posted)

Outsiders AU. He's a super popular worker drone that gets a bunch of gifts for valwntines from classmates.

But he just gifts them to his secret partners.

Randomized swap au! He helps with the event of those cardnations and he hands them out. He's a bit sad he didn't get one.....yet

Sickly Stars N! Super sparkly and just hear to vibe

Mcsm(or minecraft alone, idk yet) xmd crossover!! My rare minecraft art style!!!

He is using a texture pack to make some items have hearts

And my new Magical Humans AU

He's planting a heart shapped tree for his little warlock

[radiant-fanon-maker]

Lee and Ler Animals

Uzi: Why are you in your old uniforms?

N: Nothing

V: Shut up

[Bared teeth, making noises with mouth, tapoing fingers, claw shaped gesture]

Obvious ler mood

[Squirming, poking herself]

Clear lee mood

N and V: Hey!

N: um M-May I-

V: Can you tickle me?!

N: I'd be happy too

V: ok ok ok ok

N: Coochie Coochie coo~

V: heeheehee n

(Dogs represent ler moods, mice represent lee moods)

[ask-the-lilywily-characters]

I need to think of some more question ideas afterwards, but heres the first one:

(emotional shift AU) do disassembly drones and solver host drones get anything when they are extremely happy?? Ive seen the ones for scared and angry already, sooo what about that emotion?

They do!!

Disassembly Drones have bluebird parts

While Solver Hosts are Goats

[angstylittleguy]

Broken

The first time Dalton shrinks in front of Bennett. The experience leaves him injured and mistrusting of Bennett, who doesn't quite understand what he's done wrong.

tw: anxiety, uncomfortable touching

character context: Dalton is a size-shifter whose height is affected by his emotions. Bennett frequently gets stuck in time loops and the only way to get the loop to end is for him to survive the day.

word count: 2.1k

-> In Which Everything Goes Wonderfully Wrong masterpost link: Here

-> character introductions and moodboards: Here

Dalton felt an itch begin to spread across his skin. It started on his chest and it felt like his heart was being squeezed. He took in a sharp breath, gaining the attention of Bennett. His eyes snapped over to him.

“You okay?”

The itch was spreading, moving down his arms and his legs. Not now, not now, Dalton thought, his heartbeat spiking. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath.

Bennett was staring at him with concern, briefly glancing around the library to see if anyone else had noticed his panic. Dalton’s hands were on both sides of his head and he was bent over the table. 

He had to focus. Swallow down the itch. This could not happen right now, not in a crowded place like this. Not in front of Bennett. 

Bennett reached a hand out to him. “Dude, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

The unexpected touch on Dalton’s arm pulled him out of his concentration, and he felt himself drop down a couple of inches. Once it started, there was no containing the shift in size. Without a word, Dalton stood from the table and rushed to the nearest aisle of bookshelves. 

It was just his luck, Dalton thought. The university library was a horrible place for him shrink down. What was worse, was that it was happening in front of Bennett. He had only just met the guy a couple days ago, and he was one of the only two people that knew about his abilities. Rory had left them alone for just a measly few minutes to go and find a book she needed, and now she wouldn’t be around while Dalton was small and unprotected.

He reached an isolated corner in the back of the library—just in time, too—and Dalton felt the world shift before his eyes as his stomach dropped. He fell to his knees in an attempt to lessen the temporary vertigo. With labored breaths, Dalton looked up, seeing the shelves tower high above his head. He was about half the height of a regular-sized novel right now, and he was out in the open for anyone to see. Anxiety gripped at his throat. 

Thundering footsteps caught his attention, and without a moment’s hesitation, he sprinted to the nearest bookshelf in an effort to conceal himself. 

Bennett slowly came down the aisle. “Dalton?” he called, “Where’d you go?”

Dalton shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t reveal his hiding space. He’d never been around Bennett small. He would be completely at his mercy. He had no idea how Bennett would react. 

Then again, Dalton was in the middle of a public library at his university. Anybody could find him, and when he was this vulnerable there would be nothing he could do if they decided to do anything to him.

His safest option would be with Bennett, no matter how unfamiliar that territory is.

Dalton peeked his head out from his hiding place. “I—I’m here,” he called. He hated how his voice trembled.

Bennett’s eyes shot down to the ground, and Dalton watched in anxiety-riddled silence as he waited for Bennett to spot him. 

He hated the fascination that took over Bennett’s features when their eyes locked. Dalton couldn’t help but to take a couple of steps back as Bennett lowered himself to the floor. 

“Holy shit!” A smile crept onto Bennett’s face. “You’re so little.”

Dalton flinched at the volume of his voice, stumbling back a couple more steps. He was nearly totally concealed by the shadows of the bookshelf, and frankly, he felt much safer in there. Even if Bennett hadn’t done anything, he couldn’t help that his flight instinct was screaming at him to run. 

“Keep your voice down,” Dalton told him, his own voice hushed. 

“What was that?” Bennett asked, leaning forwards. “I can hardly hear you.”

He was close. He was too close. “Step back,” Dalton said, voice brittle. He held out a hand as if that would do anything. 

Dalton couldn’t pinpoint the expression that painted Bennett’s face at his words, but he didn’t like the way his eyes softened. “Hey, man,” Bennett said, “it’s just me.”

Yeah, no shit. Dalton did not know Bennett. They had only just met. He had no idea how Bennett would act around him at this size. “I need you to go get Rory,” Dalton told him.

“Why? What’s she going to do that I can’t?”

She would know how Dalton was feeling. Her abilities made sure of that. And even though he would never wish this kind of anxiety on his worst enemy, having someone know exactly what was going through his mind would be better at handling him small compared to someone that Dalton only knew as… sporadic.

“No—nothing,” Dalton responded, too stressed to argue. “Just, we need to get out of here. Like, right now.”

“Okay,” Bennett nodded. “I can handle that.”

He reached out a hand and scooped Dalton into a fist. 

The claustrophobia was immediate. Dalton felt like he was being squeezed—no, he was being squeezed—and the air was quickly stolen from his lungs. His ribs felt like they were going to shatter. He was going to tell Bennett that he was holding him too tight, but his world was lurched forwards as they took a giant step forward. 

Dalton wanted to yell, wanted to demand that Bennett put him back down because he regretted his request to leave immediately, but the fear of being heard (or worse, seen) by others made him keep his mouth shut. 

“I’m gonna put you in my hoodie pocket,” Bennett said as they approached the table they had been working at. “So, I can grab our stuff.”

Without warning he was shoved into his front hoodie pocket. Dalton fought an unmanly yelp as he scrambled for purchase in the fabric.

It was hot, it was tight, it was moving, and there was nothing Dalton could do about it. Where was Bennett taking him? Was he going to tell Rory what was happening? Or would Dalton be stuck with Bennett alone until he was able to grow to his normal size?

The walk felt much too long, or much to short, Dalton couldn’t decide. Bennett’s calloused hands found their way around him again, and Dalton was forced back out into the open. His head spun as Bennett adjusted him right-side up, and Dalton was then—rather carelessly—dropped onto a hard surface. He hit hard, not prepared for the drop, and fell on his side, a hard ough! escaping his lips on impact. He propped himself up on one elbow as he took in his surroundings, afraid to find out where Bennett had taken him.

He was in a dorm room, and Dalton could only guess it was Bennett’s. It was messy—clothes scattered on the floor, loose papers sprawled across the surface of the desk—and as he looked around it seemed that Bennett caught on to what he was thinking.

“Uh, sorry about the mess.” He began to pick up his clothes and throw them into his wardrobe. “I wasn’t really expecting company.”

Dalton, finally free from his fabric prison, took this moment to catch his breath. Not being Bennett’s center of attention and being high off the floor was a lot better than what had happened to him so far.

He couldn’t bring himself to stand just yet. His stomach was still lurching from the jostling movements and his legs were weak with anxiety. Dalton watched Bennett shove his clothing into his wardrobe with enough force to snap Dalton in half at this size if Bennett felt like it. He needed to get up, needed to put himself somewhere he felt a little safer. 

Dalton sat up, the pain around his ribs almost immediate. They felt bruised—maybe worse—and Dalton knew instantly that coming here was a bad idea. He should have known that Bennett was just too curious about his abilities, and that nothing good could come from this little unwanted adventure. 

Bennett sat down at his desk, towering over Dalton’s pitiful form.

“So, now what?” Bennett asked, harshly propping his elbow up on the desk and cradling his chin in his hand. “How do we make you big again?”

Dalton swallowed thickly as he looked up at Bennett, unable to hold eye contact any longer before he forced his head to look back down. “Time,” he choked out. 

Bennett hummed, the fingers of his free hand appearing out of nowhere and grabbing hold of one of Dalton’s arms. His forearm was pinched between two fingers, squeezed just a little too tight. He was then forced to turn his arm over as Bennett examined his too-small limb. “What are you doing?” Dalton asked him, forcing his voice not to tremble.

“Just looking at you,” Bennett answered. “You’re just so small it’s actually insane.”

There was a lump in Dalton’s throat. “Please—please let go.”

“Relax, dude. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

It was too late for that, Dalton wanted to say. But he kept his mouth shut and let Bennett continue to gawk at him. He just prayed that he got bored soon. 

“Your hands are so tiny,” Bennett said. “They’re like the size of my fingertip.” 

His fingers moved down the length of Dalton’s arm, pinching his hand as he marveled at Dalton’s size. Bennett chuckled. “I can’t help but to laugh,” Bennett told him, “this is just so crazy.”

He then yanked on his arm and Dalton lurched forward. His ribs screamed with pain and without a hand to catch himself with, Dalton rolled sideways onto his shoulder. He hit the surface of the desk with an oof.

“Sorry, man.” Bennett was still chuckling, oblivious to Dalton’s discomfort. “I just…” His voice trailed off. “Wow.” 

With each prod and poke and unintentional careless action, Dalton felt more and more broken. Tears began to well in his eyes—tears that Bennett didn’t notice due to his curiosity that overpowered his sensitivity—and a sob caught in his throat. 

Dalton bit his lip, struggling with the internal conflict of wanting Bennett to understand and fearing his own vulnerability. Fear left him frozen where he fell, head and shoulder pressed against the hard surface of the desk. Bennett’s touch never relinquished.

As Bennett’s finger lingered on his side, Dalton’s breath hitched, the ache in his ribs intensifying. He wanted to speak up, to tell Bennett to be more careful, but fear held his tongue. 

A finger ran down the length of Dalton’s side with the intention to forcefully lift him from his spot on the desk. Finally, a single tear rolled down Dalton’s cheek. A choked sob escaped through his lips, and Bennett’s touch froze in its place. 

Dalton swallowed hard, his whole-body tensing as Bennett’s finger pressed against his bruised ribs again. “Bennett, please,” Dalton managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

Bennett paused, noticing the fear in Dalton’s eyes. “Oh,” he said quickly, withdrawing his hand. “Did I hurt you?”

Dalton nodded silently, his chest tight with anxiety. 

“I—I’m sorry.” Bennett was cupping his hands together, holding them close to his chest. “I didn’t realize.”

Dalton didn’t move for a few long moments. He allowed himself to cry. To grieve for a loss of normalcy that he hadn’t realized he lost. He waited for the stinging sensation in his ribs to mellow out enough for him to sit up, to look at Bennett with red, tear-stained eyes and demand that he go and get Rory so this nightmare can come to an end. 

Bennett was already crying. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I wasn’t thinking and—”

“That’s the problem,” Dalton replied bitterly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t think.”

A silence settled between them, thick and heavy with unspoken words. 

“I’m so sorry, Dalton,” Bennett finally said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ll try to do better. Next time—”

“There is no next time,” Dalton interrupted. “Please, just call Rory.”

Without a word, Bennett turned away from the desk. He dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. 

[malaismere]

idk if I actually want to write it, but I was thinking, ‘hm, baldurs gate three is a pretty good set up to have a character from something else be Tav’ and obviously how could I not immediately think of Jester. Mostly because Tav has big ‘everybody loves Jester Lavorre’ energy.

just. the crystal clear image of her getting upset that she’s back at level one, and yelling at the traveler about it, which everyone else goes ‘okay whatever so she’s maybe a bit crazy, we can deal with it’ and then like the first time they set up camp he just actually shows up to apologize, because this plane is making him do *paperwork*

I’m kind of tempted to restat her as a warlock for said paperwork reasons, which would mean Wyll getting to watch her make a very casual deal and having Emotions about that. And obviously Shadowheart and Gale have their own fun angst about the God angle.

[totes-tubulardude]

I was having some post Padawan Lost and Wookie Hunt feels so I decided to give a lil snippet from the after math in my au :)

—

Ahsoka felt Fives’ bright and ecstatic presence before she saw him. By the time he shoved through the blast doors to the hangar he already had to duck to avoid the ceiling. Upon laying eyes on her he let out a cheer and charged towards her.

With each step he seemed to grow taller until he was right in front of her. He crashed down to his knees to hug her, lifting her off the ground completely. 

She let out a breathless laugh as he squeezed her, she was grateful for the pain medication the Jedi healers had given her for her bruised ribs and claw marks.

“You scared the osik out of us commander.” He told her. “If you ever do that again I swear to the Maker.” 

Ahsoka huffed a laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I don’t plan on it any time soon.”

“Alright, Fives let her down so the rest of us can see her.” Jesse barked.

Fives lifted one hand to flip his brother off but gently set her back down onto the floor. She was quickly swept up into another embrace by the scout. Over Jesse’s shoulder she saw that Rex had taken up a place beside her master. He was standing formally but had a small smile on his face as he watched her. She also noted that he was currently a couple inches taller than Anakin. 

Fives hadn’t regained enough control to fully shrink back down to his regular size so he stayed seated on the floor as she recounted what had happened to her. 

-

Ahsoka followed Rex to his office and private bunk, occasionally stopping to greet a trooper as they went. The force rang with happiness and relief throughout the barracks, they really had missed her after she’d been taken. That knowledge made her warm inside. 

Rex palmed the door open, quickly shucking off his vambraces and chestplate as she leaned out to wave to Ridge. 

As soon as she stepped into the room and shut the door, she was swiftly swept up into another embrace. The sound of a desk sliding across the floor and the clang of something heavy hitting the durasteel wall filled the room as Rex’s oversized knees shoved furniture out of the way. One arm supported her while his other hand was wrapped around her middle as he clutched her to his chest. Only now did she see how tightly he’d been keeping his emotions under control seeing as he was large enough to completely fill the room now that they were alone. 

She flung her arms across his chest. 

“I’m alright Rex, I’m here.”

She felt his head shake next to her. 

“We looked for you for days vod’ika, but all we found were your kriffing lightsabers. We didn’t know where you were or what had happened or if you were even still…” his voice faltered and his hand around her clenched. 

She pushed back enough to see his face. 

“I survived. Thanks to Anakin and to you all, if you hadn’t trained with me as much as you all have, I don’t think I would have made it. But I did and I helped two other padawans make it home to.” Ahsoka attempted to keep her face straight as Kalifah’s face flashed to the front of her mind. “So thank you Rex, for all you’ve done for me.”

The captains force signature sang as he tucked her back against his shoulder.

Ahsoka let the the warmth around her seep into her mind and calm her, the part of her brain that had been on survival mode finally relaxed and a bone-deep tired took its place. 

“Are you going to let go anytime soon?” She asked around a yawn.

“No.” Rex answered. “Not after that karkshow.”

“Good because I think I’m too tired to stand.”

His chuckle rumbled through her whole body. 

Slowly the ache in her middle began to make itself present again. She winced when Rex’s thumb ran over her side, right over a couple of claw marks courtesy of the trandoshans. 

He must have felt her tense because his grip quickly loosened. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, pulling her back a little bit. 

“I’m fine, just a few parting gifts from the Trandoshians.” She told him with a sheepish smile. 

His Force signature flashed with rage as he carefully set her back down onto the floor. When she stumbled he was quick to fit his hand back around her middle to keep her upright. 

“What happened?” He asked.

-

Mando’a trans:

Vod’ika: little sibling

[laurapalmerz]

thinkin about bobby, donna and james being at the roadhouse the night maddy is killed. they're not aware of each other's presence but they're there for the same reason; to get away from it all. the mood starts upbeat, donna lip sync's a part of "rockin' back inside my heart" to james as julee cruise is performing it live. bobby is drinking at the bar, most likely lost in thought.

then the mood shifts after she dies.

"the world spins" is being performed now. donna starts to break down as julee sings, "love, don't go away / come back this way / come back and stay / forever and ever". it perfectly parallels her feelings toward james, how she wants him to stay when he's all she has left after laura's death. or even, how she felt about laura herself. that was her best friend, sudden taken away without a second thought. she's gone, forever and ever. james goes around the booth to her side and holds her, cradles her head to comfort her as best as he possibly can. bobby stops in place, listening to the lyrics as their meaning hits him. there's a melancholy to the way he looks out across the bar, almost like he's about to cry. does he think of laura? how he lost her, how she didn't stay when he asked her to.

they're united in that moment, whether they know they're within distance of each other or not.

[we-love-morioh-cho]

Imagine if Morioh had a pink sky instead of yellow to represent Reimi watching over the town and it’s people as a guardian angel, her presence felt before we or the characters even meet her 💖

[charmac]

throwing up at the sugar update i love you im so obsessed w it

Thanks! Glad you're enjoying... Hard at work on the next installment for ya, lots a good stuff... like more 2022 post-season baseball!!

[fowleyes]

@inlife : how does he (if he does) manage his symptoms come blank verse (me pretending he doesnt die becos itachi shouldnt have died x)!!! does he seek psychiatric n therapeutic help eventually! does he share this part of his life w the people around him/his close ones so theyre more informed !

thank u for having such a huge brain and asking abt the itachi survives au ;_;

I LOVE THIS QUESTION bc it puts a strong sense of reality on the topic and how people deal with this in modern day etc. so thank u <3 i DO like to think he does still experience episodes in which hallucinations and even delusions can morph into his sense of reality & times when he delves back into his sense of villainy and that becomes his reality for a time. i think that it might take some time for him to truly establish that these are indeed illnesses in which he can seek treatment tbh. like i think at first he believes he is condemned to experience this turmoil for all of the atrocities he's committed and that it's almost something he feels he deserves (which of course is not true) but at the same time, can feel resentful (at his life, the way things happened, the universe, mostly himself) though he would never allow anyone to see that type of resentment. he feels a lot of guilt surrounding that type of feeling since it contradicts a lot of his other beliefs.

ANYWAYS I THINK he does eventually seek help, but only when he starts rebuilding relationships & he can tell this part of him begins to not only affect himself, but the people he cares about. i want to develop more a journey with it for him through, where he goes from doing it for other people, to doing it for himself because he genuinely thinks he deserves a shot at life. it just... is definitely a journey and will take a long time for him to get to that point. that being said i think he'd be receptive to trying out medications and figuring out which ones work best for him (which is not always a journey of Ease, especially when it comes to psychotic disorders)

n i think in terms of proper therapy he'd feel very exposed and ashamed , so it would take awhile to find the right type of person to be able to fit with him in that regard? he's not very trusting and is generally pretty closed off and reserved, and that nature doesn't change much going into blank verse, as that has just always been his sort of personality. i think once he realizes how much he can say tho, and learns to trust the right person, he'll realize how much they/other people can truly help him in his journey to recovery.

IN REGARDS TO HIM SHARING IT W THE PPL IN HIS LIFE... that. is rlly hard for him :) haha but i wanna say he does eventually, probably with the help of therapy, after he's attended for some time, and after learning more about it himself. after all, it's very hard to describe what goes on in your head to people when you can hardly understand it yourself. i'm sure therapy would be very mind opening for him when it comes to learning about himself and even others.

neways i was gonna write like a paragraph bUT UHHH... :')

[lilywily143]

Emotionally Transparent

An AU where Murder Drones have different apperances dependent on their feelings or actions

V: Wanna do an autopsy to find out?

[Foxes represent cunning]

[Anglerfish represent deception]

[Bears represent family] (familial love)

[Tigers represent protectiveness]

[Wolves represent empathy and loyalty]

[Ladybugs represent love] (crushes)

[Koi fish represent love] (within relationships)

Tw: Robot gore and another animal with a suggestive joke

[Ravens represent death]

Uzi: What.. are you things?

[And pain]

V: N?

[Black dogs represent sadness]

[Bunnies represent-]

-[redacted]

[radiant-fanon-maker]

Intense Lee Mood

J: Gentle or rough tickles?

Uzi (shy): G-gentle

Heehee heeheehee

[ask-the-lilywily-characters]

is there an emotional shift for hunger/hangry? or other feelings like that??

Well Murder Drones have hyena parts when they start overheating and need to drink oil.

But well, they get kaprosuchus tails when they are mad.

N: Let's do this calmly...

[angstylittleguy]

Dalton's Drawings

An important bonding opportunity for Bennett and Dalton, though neither leave feeling any better.

tw: mentions of suicide

character context: Dalton is a size-shifter whose height is affected by his emotions. Bennett frequently gets stuck in time loops and the only way to get the loop to end is for him to survive the day.

word count: 2.5k

-> In Which Everything Goes Wonderfully Wrong masterpost link: Here

-> character introductions and moodboards: Here

Bennett stalked down the hallway, humming lightly to himself as he pulled his Air Pods from his ears and shoved them in his hoodie pocket, the music ceasing suddenly. He knocked on Dalton's closed door. "Yo, Dalton. You ready to go, man?"

When no response came, Bennett creaked open the door, peeking his head in. "Hey man, are you in here?"

The silence lingered as Bennett scanned the room. Dalton's bed was unmade, something that he never allowed to happen. The guy was a neat freak, never wanting anything in his space to be out of place. It made Bennett quirk a brow for sure. The second red flag was that Dalton's phone was laying on the floor, screen faced up and still playing music from the earbuds that were attached by a thin white cord. Next to it, a fancy crayon that had been snapped in half from the impact of it hitting the hardwood floor.

Bennett stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Dalton?" He called, his voice much lower now. He picked up the phone and paused the music, placing it on Dalton's desk. 

"Are you...?" Bennett got on his knees and peered under the bed. "Ah."

In the far corner of the room, pressed against the wall and almost totally concealed by the shadows of the bed, was Dalton, about the size of Bennett's hand. 

Dalton glanced up miserably at Bennett, his heart pounding in his chest because of the massive eyes watching his pitiful form. He buried his head in his knees. 

"Hey," Bennett murmured, trying to keep his voice low because he knew how much loud sounds affected him at this size. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, you know." The brunette dryly laughed, his voice betraying the humor he was attempting. "The usual."

Dalton tried to make a joke to lighten the mood, to make the fact that his friend found him sulking under his bed the size of a bug less pathetic, but it didn't help any. 

"You're pretty small, did something happen?"

Bennett was aware of Dalton's abilities, they all were. But they didn't see it often— not the extremes, anyway— Dalton would always hide away in his room until the size-changing spell ended. They all knew he hated his abilities, just as much as Bennett hated his. Dalton found it humiliating, and they all agreed to give him privacy when things like this happened. It always felt wrong to Bennett to leave him be when he was going through one of his spells, however. They occurred because of how he was feeling, and to leave him alone felt like Bennett was abandoning him. Maybe when he needed them most.

When Dalton was this small, it meant he had a lot on his mind. 

"Just thinking," Dalton said, his voice so small that Bennett had to strain to hear him. 

Bennett laid down on his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms as to not tower over Dalton as much as he could. It had to be frightening to just see a giant head watching him from a crack under the bed. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

He already knew the answer, but he figured he might as well ask anyway. 

Dalton shook his head. "Not really."

Bennett extended a careful hand, outstretching his arm across the length of the bed so that it almost brushed against Dalton's tiny form that seemed to shift deeper into the shadows. "Do you wanna come out? We can watch a movie or something until you're feeling better?" 

He looked at Bennett's hand, it larger than life itself and he so impossibly small. Dalton was on high alert, worried that with one twitch of Bennett’s fingers he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from scurrying down the length of the wall and disappearing into the darkness. 

"Listen, dude." Bennett interrupted his inner monologue with a frown. "It's totally okay to be scared right now. Hell, I would be freaking the fuck out if I were you. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can stay in here and hang out, or I can go, you just say the word."

Dalton wiped frustratingly at his eyes, tearing his gaze away from Bennett's hand to look at him. "You don't have to go," he said numbly. "Can we just... stay like this?"

"Of course, man. I don't wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable."

He pulled his hand back to rest under his chin, causing Dalton to flinch with the unexpected movement. Bennett tilted his head to the side with a sad smile, watching his tiny friend wipe at his eyes as his ears flushed red.

"Ugh, this is so embarrassing." Dalton pulled down the beanie he wore so it covered his ears and nearly his eyes. "I hate this so much."

Bennett chose not to speak, and so Dalton continued. "I'm not scared of you, for the record. Just... uneasy, is all."

"That's totally fair, bro. It would we weird if you weren't." 

Bennett tried to shift again, adjusting his position on the floor as Dalton watched him with a careful gaze. Finally, he pressed himself up into a sitting position with his hands, Dalton's vision no longer filled with Bennett's face, but rather his legs. He felt his heartbeat increase as the wooden floor creaked beneath the shift in weight. 

"Sorry," Bennett chuckled, his voice now coming from high up and out of sight. "Uncomfortable on your hard ass floor." 

He sat with his back against the bed now, his legs outstretched on the floor and facing the closed door. Dalton swallowed the lump in his throat as he forced himself to a stand, his entire body trembling as he walked out of the shadows on shaky legs. 

(It’s fine. This is Bennett. You trust Bennett. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.)

Dalton bit the inside of his cheek. 

(Not on purpose, at least.)

He paused just at the edge of Bennett's line of vision, staring up at his friend's mop of messy blond hair from his position on the floor. He was fidgeting with his hands, opening his mouth to say something but being unable to find the words. 

From Dalton's perspective, Bennett was colossal. He was a massive force that could do with him as he pleased and there would be nothing Dalton could do until he managed to shift back to his normal size. And even with this major power imbalance, Bennett was patient and trying his best to look out for Dalton, never doing something that he wouldn't want him to. 

Dalton walked out from under the bed, doing his best to mask his uneasiness. "Tell me about it," he said, voice slightly wavering. "I've been stuck down here for the past two hours." 

Bennett's eyes widened and he quickly snapped his gaze down to Dalton, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin from the movement. "You've been like this for two hours?" 

Dalton nodded sheepishly, craning his neck to meet his eyes.

"Dude, I'm so sorry. If I had known I would have come to check on you sooner."

"Ah, no it's okay." Dalton waved his hands in front of him awkwardly as if he were swatting away the idea. "It's better this way, anyway." 

Bennett's frown never shifted from his expression, but his eyes softened just enough for Dalton to notice. 

Dalton looked down at his feet.

"So," Bennett said, but his voice trailed off and he never finished his thought aloud. His gaze shifted to Dalton's desk, and he was able to see whatever he was working on from his spot on the floor. 

"May I?" He asked Dalton, finger pointed at the desk. 

Dalton shrugged, and Bennett shifted a little to grab the unfinished drawing. 

It was of Meiling, her smiling complexion colored with oil pastels that showed off her warm skin tone. Half of her shoulder-length black hair was colored as well, but the color abruptly ends and a single black line trails to the edge of the paper, even staining the desk as it was dragged towards the floor. 

"This is really good, dude," Bennett told Dalton, looking down at his small form that watched him examine the drawing with cautious eyes.

"But," Bennett said, "I don't think she's into guys."

Dalton flushed red. "Ah! No! That's not why I was drawing her!"

"Dude, it's okay. I'm not judging. I just wanted to tell you you probably don't have a chance with her before you get your hopes up."

Dalton buried his face in his hands and threw his head back. "Noooooo, it's not like that! I just— inspiration struck, okay?"

"Yeah, man. I get it, she's pretty—"

"Oh my god, Bennett. No. Okay, look in my sketchbook at one of the last few pages."

Bennett stood, his height making Dalton dizzy. He stepped closer to the desk, running a finger along the rows of sketchbooks that lined the shelf. "Which one is it?" 

"The black one."

"Like, ninety percent of them are black."

Dalton groaned. "Just— put me on the desk."

Bennett's head whipped downwards to stare at Dalton who stood uncomfortably close to his socked feet. "What?"

"Put me on the desk."

"You want me to put you...?"

"On the desk, yes."

"You want me to pick you up and—?"

"And put me on the desk."

"You want me to—?"

"OhmygodBennettjustdoitalready."

Bennett awkwardly squatted, laying his hand flat on the floor next to where Dalton stood. The brunette stared at it for a moment, before glancing up at Bennett's lingering gaze, and climbing on. 

The moment Bennett's hand was in motion, Dalton fell to his knees, the uncomfortable feeling of skin surrounding him. He held on to Bennett's thumb for balance, knowing that a fall from this height would surely kill him. 

Dalton was deposited on the desk in a matter of seconds, but his legs were weak as he struggled to force himself to a stand. 

He trekked across the wooden surface, stopping when he reached the markings from the oil pastel that he was using when he shrunk. He rubbed at it, staining his hands black as he tried to wipe away the marking. Dalton pointed up at the shelf with a newly black finger. "It's that one." 

Bennett grabbed the sketchbook, laying it down next to Dalton as he wiped his hands on his pants. 

He flipped through the pages, finally landing on a self-portrait in the same oil pastels. 

"What do you notice about mine compared to hers?"

Bennett hummed as he stared at the two drawings. "Well, one is obviously of you…" 

"Yes, that's true. But what about our faces?"

"You have pale, pasty skin?"

Dalton pressed a hand to his cheek. "No, dumbass. She's smiling."

Bennett looked back to the drawings, seeing the one of Dalton expressing a deep frown, with the most defeated eyes Bennett had ever seen on a person. His face was somewhat red, especially around the eyes and the tip of his nose as if he had been crying just moments before. Compared to the drawing of Meiling, whose eyes were bright and full of life, her smile brighter than lightning, Dalton's self-portrait was depressing. 

"Why... why did you draw them like this?"

The brunette blew air out of his nose, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at Bennett's massive form. "I'm sure you've noticed it too," he said, peeking over his shoulder to the drawing of Meiling that laid idly on the desk. Her smile seemed just as big as he was right now. "She's always so... happy."

Bennett cocked his head sideways. "And you're not?"

"How can I be?" 

Dalton threw his hands up miserably, gesturing to himself. "I mean, just look at me. I am four inches tall right now. And for what? Because I'm a little sad? I'm a little sad all the time, so this is just my life now! And Meiling? She didn't get stuck with some shitty superpower that affects her everyday life. She's never been happier, and I'm—"

"Jealous?" Bennett finished for him. 

"Yeah. I'm jealous."

Dalton sat down on the desk, propping his chin up in his hand. "I used to draw as a way to express how I'm feeling. It normally helps— or it used to— didn't matter if I was sad or angry or happy or whatever. But I can't do that anymore, because, well..." 

He gestured half-heartedly to himself again, frown coating his lips. "I guess you wouldn't get it, though. You got pretty lucky—”

"Lucky?" Bennett almost laughed, shifting his position so he stood on his knees and rested his folded arms on top of the desk next to Dalton. "I would not describe my situation as lucky."

Dalton's expression seemed to say, 'then what?' so Bennett continued. "I would describe it as 'The Fucking Worst.' Do you understand how many times I've died? Like, actually, physically died? More than I would have wanted, which means more than once."

Bennett talked with his hands, and with each wild gesture thrown in Dalton's direction, he flinched, debating standing up and moving back further on the desk. If Bennett noticed, he didn't do anything to show it. 

"And yeah, it could be useful if I needed a do-over or something, but like, to get that do-over I'd literally have to die. And that's so scary, dude. Like, I can't—"

His words fell short as he wasn't sure what to say next. He glanced down at Dalton who stared at him with big eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Dalton said. "That does suck." 

"I feel like it happens to me more often than others. Like, normal people only die once." Bennett paused for a moment. "Well, yes, duh, of course people only die once. That's not what I meant. I'm saying, if a guy somehow survives a terrible accident, what are the odds he's going to get into another one a week later? And then in another one two weeks later? Probably not likely, you know?”

Dalton nodded silently. 

"But for me, it is likely. I'm like… cursed to die. I think it's the universe's way of forcing me to use my ability. I mean, Rory uses hers all the time. Josiah ends up invisible almost once a week. You use yours pretty often. When do I have a chance to use mine? Dying doesn't happen to someone that often, but the universe needs me to use my ability. So, things happen that force me to use it." 

Dalton wasn't quite sure what to say, and Bennett dryly chuckled. "Didn't mean to ramble," he said. "Can we just agree that both of our abilities suck?" 

"Yeah," Dalton nodded. "Our abilities suck."

[elminsters]

i won't lie i am nervous about what they're going to do with chloe in double exposure

[rafecameronssl4t]

Attention || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: literally tit obsessed!rafe fawning over readers boobs

Warnings: mention of birth control, swearing, slightly suggestive?

Word count: 851

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“He’s just so infuriating!” you vent, your voice sharp as you pull your hair into a messy bun, the motion jerky with irritation. You couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth across the deck, your mind racing. Rafe was lounging in one of the chairs, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to your bubbling frustration.

His eyes followed you with quiet intensity, but he wasn’t as focused on your words as you wanted him to be. “He knew I was going to tell Mom and Dad about it,” you continue, voice rising. “But no, he just had to stick his nose in my business and tell them first!” You were fuming, your hands gesturing wildly as you ranted about your brother’s constant meddling.

Rafe barely responded, his gaze more intent on your figure than the content of your words. He watched the way your shoulders tensed, how your movements betrayed just how worked up you were, but he wasn’t truly listening. His mind was elsewhere, his lips twitching up into that familiar lazy smile as his eyes drifted over you.

“Rafe, baby, are you even listening?” you snap, suddenly stopping in your tracks, hands on your hips. You glared at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Rafe blinked, seemingly dragged out of his own head, and lazily looked up at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am,” he replied, his voice casual, as though you hadn’t just been spilling your frustrations.

“You want me to, uh, talk to Top? Tell me what you want me to do.” You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive move. The action, while innocent on your end, drew Rafe’s attention immediately. His eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back with his lips pursed. He watched the way you folded your arms, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“I dunno,” you mutter, your anger deflating. “I’m just so mad at him. I don’t even want to speak to him right now.” Your voice softens, frustration fading into weariness as you finally give up on pacing and drop down onto the lounge chair beside Rafe. You set your eyes on the water in front of you, trying to focus on its calm surface, wishing it would somehow mirror in your emotions.

Without a word, Rafe slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. His lips brushed the top of your head, a quiet kiss that melted some of your remaining tension. The silent comfort of his touch was enough to ease the knot of frustration in your chest. For a moment, everything felt still, his warmth grounding you.

But then, Rafe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a little too amused. “By the way,” he murmured, his voice low, “when did your tits get so big?” His hand reaching down to squeeze. Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock. “Rafe Cameron!” you shouted, your playful outrage breaking through the calm as you shoved him away. His laughter rang out in response, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he doubled over in amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk plays at the corner of your lips as his laughter fills the air. “It’s because of birth control, Rafe,” you retort, voice laced with playful sarcasm. His laughter slows, and he looks at you with raised eyebrows, the smirk fading into curiosity. “Birth control?” he echoes, clearly intrigued by where this was going.

You lean in closer, your eyes locking with his, a teasing glint in your gaze. “Yeah, because you can’t seem to pull out in time,” you say, your voice dripping with mock exasperation. Rafe’s smirk instantly returns, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans back into the chair, draping an arm behind his head.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he asks, his tone teasing but his grin growing wider. “Yes, Rafe,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a laugh as you nudge his leg with your foot. “I swear, every time—” Before you can finish, Rafe cuts you off with a low chuckle, his hand slipping behind your neck, gently pulling you closer. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine.

He tilts your chin up to look at him, his thumb brushing across your jaw, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Or maybe I just like the idea of keeping you on birth control a little while longer.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he was looking at you. “You're impossible,” you mutter, though the softness in your voice betrays any real frustration.

Rafe only grins wider, kissing the top of your head again, this time lingering a little longer, clearly pleased with himself. “You love me for it,” he whispers against your hair, his tone teasing, but the way he holds you feels more tender, a quiet comfort that you didn’t realise you needed.