#sizeshifter AU

[alaskan-wallflower]

thinking a lot about the sizeshifting au if anyone wants to send in some asks…or even interact 😭😭

[kendsleyauthor]

A Touch of Warmth

Sizeshifter AU (Shot in the Dark)

~1000 words

Warning: Nudity (not descriptive), sensuality

Summary: Despite the dreary weather affecting her flight, Sylvia shows up for her and Jon's weekly movie night.

In this AU, Jon lives in a house near the edge of the woods. After a run-in with a witch, he gains sizeshifting abilities and meets Sylvia. Though his abilities don't come into play for this story, his and Sylv's budding romance is very present. 😘

@marydublinauthor 🌸

He couldn’t blame her for not showing up.

It had been raining all day, and a steady drizzle still pattered. Any other evening, Jon would have counted it as peaceful weather. Tonight, it ruined his plans. Even if the concept of fairies was still wildly new to him, he did know that they couldn’t hope to fly with wet wings.

He briefly considered trekking into the woods to give Sylvia a lift back to his place, but… that would be weird, wouldn’t it? If he had to question it, he guessed it was weird.

Despite everything, he cast a hopeful glance at the open living room window. Still painfully empty, other than the gloomy backdrop of a sky. He sighed and went over to close it. Just as he grabbed the edge to pull it down, a noise drifted over the rain.

“Jon!”

He froze for a second, then leaned his head out the window. “Sylvia?”

Squinting through the haze, he caught sight of something small moving through the grass a couple of yards away. It entered the tamer part of his yard. Sylvia stumbled into view and waved her arms over her head at him. He looked at her for only half a second before bolting to the door.

“I’m coming!” he called once he was outside.

“I’ve noticed!” she shouted back. There was laughter in her voice, but exhaustion too.

He watched his step until he locked his eyes on her. The moment she was within reach, he knelt on the grass and scooped her into his palms. As he stood, he waited for her to lecture him—I didn’t give you permission to pick me up! But she was shivering too much to dole out any complaints.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, tucking her against his chest. He hurried back into the house, shielding her from the rain.

After pushing the door shut behind him, he carefully pulled his hands away from himself, letting Sylvia fall gently into the curve of his palm. She caught her breath, pushing her hands back through her soaking hair.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“M-movie night.” She avoided his gaze. He couldn’t tell if her face was flushed from cold or embarrassment. “We haven’t missed one yet.”

He gaped at her. Water dripped off the ends of her hair. Her wings hung heavily off her back. And her clothes clung directly to the curves of her body. Blinking hard, he snapped out of it and took her into the bathroom to find something to dry her off with.

“Here.” He snatched a fluffy washcloth from beneath the sink and set it on the counter. He laid his hand flat beside it, allowing her to climb off.

Without hesitation, she started peeling off her shirt. He took a quick step back and turned the other way, cheeks flaming. Of course. She couldn’t stay in wet clothes. Still, a little warning would have been nice.

“You can look now,” she said after a moment.

He cautiously did, half-expecting her to still be fully exposed for the fun of making him blush harder. But no, she had wrapped herself in the folds of the washcloth and was peering up at him with an impish smile. Apparently, her own embarrassment was forgotten.

Jon busied himself by grabbing another washcloth to spread her wet clothes on.

“I don’t think these would survive the dryer,” he said. “Better let them sit a while.”

She cocked her head. “What’s a dryer?”

He smirked at her. “I’ll give you three guesses what it’s used for.”

“Ha-ha. So, are you just going to leave me here?”

With far more hesitance than when he’d found her outside, Jon picked her up, hugging the washcloth around her. Even with the thickness of the cloth, he could feel the shape of her through the fabric—especially when she shifted to make herself comfortable.

Heading for the kitchen, he looked anywhere but her. “What would you have done if I closed the window before I heard you?” he asked—partly for distraction, partly out of concern.

“That’s easy. I would’ve thrown ice at the window to get your attention.”

“And if I didn’t hear it?”

“Even easier. Break the window.” She smiled up at him sweety when he looked at her with alarm. “What? I came all this way. Would you rather I catch my death on the journey back home?”

“Depends on how many windows you’d be willing to break to get my attention.”

Clutching her with one hand to his chest, he got a kettle of hot water started. His hope was to get her a drink of tea, but chances were, she’d insist on bathing in the hot water instead. He braced himself for the possibility.

Settling in a chair to wait for the water to boil, he peered down at her. “For both our sakes, I hope the movie tonight is worth it.”

Sylvia seemed like she was about to make another quip, but she sneezed instead. The sound of it brought an instant smile to his face, and he had to bite back a laugh. 

She moaned dramatically and buried half her face in a fold of the washcloth. “Don’t laugh at me! If I’m sick, it’s because I couldn’t bear disappointing you.”

“Maybe you should hole up in another room. Wouldn’t want to get me sick with some fairy disease.”

“Don’t you dare.” She snuggled harder against his chest, clutching his thumb with one arm for good measure. The skin-to-skin contact made him swallow hard, but thankfully, she was too busy with her current teasing to notice. “If I get you sick, we’ll just have to suffer together.”

For all her playfulness, she was still shivering. His other hand came up, and his finger found its way to her hair. He stroked it down, his amused smile softening. She turned her head upward like a flower reaching for the sun. Her cheek brushed the pad of his fingertip.

It seemed miraculous that she would ever think him worthy of such vulnerability. Maybe she was just exhausted. Or maybe it was for the same reason she had trekked through the rain-soaked terrain for something as mundane as their movie night.

Whatever the case, he was more than happy to be her source of warmth for the evening.

[thatonemarveldude]

More pocket sized James!

Look at this absolutely flustered man losing control of his height when his heart beat spikes a bit too much

What a loser

You guys really liked the last pocket sized James drawing so I just HAD to deliver more :3

[cyncerity]

Any AU

Someone- "Tubbo where's Tommy?"

Tubbo who making Tommy rest- "No idea :D"

Tommy who is resting peacefully- "Zzz"

-Plant

HI PLANT TY

man it’s been a while since i posted anything about the Sizeshifter Tommy au, but i checked and I have literally no other aus where Tubbo can nom Tommy cause this is the only one where he’s not a tiny. Wild. Anyway-

i almost never draw big prey for how much i like the overstuffed pred trope, so here’s some big prey Tommy cause he’s got a bad habit of shifting in his sleep lol

[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. 

[smallcherri]

I decided to draw my favorite sizeshifter in my favorite starting armor in my favorite game!

Daren Grounded au story when-

[i-am-beckyu]

Just out of Reach, but Never out of Sight

So..... it's been *looks at last update* SHEESH A YEAR ?!?! Uhhhh I'm so sorry this took so long to update, but I am far from done with this au so let's go for getting another upload! I've shared my views on the whole William Gold thing so further explanation is here. But without further a do, enjoy!

Chapter 4

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 cw: panic, anxiety, fear of abandonment, mentions of child abuse/neglect and a whole lot of fluff :3 wc: 3938

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

 ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .* 

Wilbur sat at the dining room table, his plate of syrup-drowned waffles staring back at him.

He wanted to know what Phil and Tommy were talking about and why the boy had hid under the bed.

He thought they’d calmed him down last night? 

The second he’d given Tommy the little cow plushie, Wilbur noticed how the boy’s eyes had widened with wonder. It was the sweetest thing the blonde had done since he met him, and he’d had to hold himself back from cooing and wrapping the boy into a hug.

But doing that would definitely be overstepping some kind of boundary judging by Tommy’s reactions and that was the last thing the brunette wanted to do. All the evidence was right there when he’d thought about it as he drifted off to sleep the night before. The flinching, the withdrawnness and the fear of saying the wrong thing; it all just began to add up. 

Tommy had been abused.

No child would be dressed in poorly put together rags and react the way they had if they hadn’t thought they were going to be hurt. Hiding under the bed was the confirmation he needed that his assumptions were true and all he could think about was how he didn’t want anyone else hurting that sweet little boy ever again.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

“What’s got you in a tizzy?” 

Wilbur lifted his head to see his twin, Technoblade, leaned up against the kitchen counter with a freshly poured steaming cup of coffee.

“Morning Techno. Sorry, didn’t hear you enter.”

“It’s not like you to be up so early Wil.”  The pink-haired teen commented curiously. 

He couldn’t help but observe the way his brother kept their gaze trained towards the hallway as he joined them at the dining table. He could make out the muffled voice of Phil talking from the other room but not what was being said.

“Is it that kid Dad brought home?” Technoblade asked. “I heard you both calling for them this morning which woke me up.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Wilbur smiled apologetically as he faced his brother across the table. “We were, but Dad’s with him now under the bed.”

“He’s what?” Techno arched his brow perplexed. “Under the bed?”

“Yeah.” Wilbur sighed heavily. “I think I spooked him when I was going to come in about breakfast, and he panicked.” 

He couldn’t help but think about how closed off Tommy had been the night before. The way he seemed to carefully choose his movements and would shrink back if he felt like he overdid it. He wanted to see the Tommy with the spitfire attitude. Not the child that felt the need to tread carefully through every interaction.

“I think- I think wherever he came from he was abused, Tech.” 

“Well from how you and Dad described him in the messages, it certainly wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume it.” Techno sipped his coffee as Wilbur grabbed his knife to cut into his waffles and sighed.

“Well whatever happened to Tommy, I’m hoping we can get him to open up and talk to us.” 

For his sake.

 ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .* 

Leaving the guest bedroom had been far harder than what it should have been.

While he knew Phil was only concerned for his well being, Tommy wasn’t quite sure he was ready to be in the presence of all 3 Beans at once. 

He knew Phil had mentioned the night before about Techno coming home late which undoubtedly meant the teen was up by now having his morning coffee and Tommy knew how Techno tended to act around ‘new visitors.’ 

One good perk of living in the walls was you learned how every person of the household acted around each other, and new people. Phil and Wilbur were always fairly welcoming, but Techno wasn’t the easiest to talk to. If you didn’t know him, he may come across as cold and calculating. Not the easiest person to approach without shaking in your boots that’s for sure.

But as Tommy would tell you, he knew that after the guests had all left, the sheer amount of relief the pinkette would feel, further revealing how awkward they had been about being around these ‘strangers’ was hilarious. It wasn’t a villain behind glasses moment, just an awkward teen with limited social skills. 

Tommy couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he’d watched the teen collapse in his bed after a certain interaction with a salesman as if it had drained all the life out of him. People just weren’t Techno’s strong suit.

But even knowing this didn’t ease the boy's nerves. It didn’t change the fact that even if Technoblade was socially awkward that he wasn’t capable of harm. The fencing trophies in his room a testament to that feat of strength.

His nervousness about having breakfast with the 3 must have been obvious, because Phil had gently placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leading them both out of the guest room and to the dining room.

Just breathe Tommy. They don't know what you are yet. 

You’re okay for now.

“Morning Tech, good to see you up and about.” Phil greeted chipperly as he manoeuvred himself into the kitchen leaving Tommy to observe by the hallway. “I’d like you to meet Tommy.”

Tommy briefly met Techno’s gaze and was met with a solemn stare as they sipped on their coffee. He’d be joking if he said he knew what was going on in the teens head. 

The blonde forced himself to give one short acknowledging nod at the pinkette, not trusting his voice to form any coherent words as he shifted uncomfortably from where he stood. He deliberately kept his eyes averted from the twins at the table, fully well knowing Techno was most definitely staring at him, if the hot feeling of holes being burnt through his chest wasn’t already obvious enough. 

It took everything in him to not run right there and then.

“Tommy, why don’t you take a seat next to Techno and I’ll fix you up something to eat.”

Okay now would be a good time for his voice box to work because there was no way he wanted to sit next to Technoblade. 

That was NOT his ideal way of getting caught. 

It didn’t matter if humans couldn’t read minds, if anyone could catch on to something being off, it would be Technoblade. It was like the teen had a sixth sense and somehow just always knew when something wasn’t quite right. Just like the moving of the craft knife, he was sure if he slipped up in front of Techno, they’d know and it would be game over and onto the torture in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like it would come to that, as Techno was quick to stand and tuck in his chair as he excused himself to finish some upcoming school work.

“All good Dad, I’ve got homework to finish before school on Monday. I’ll just excuse myself.”

Tommy felt himself relax. Oh, thank Prime for humans and their absurd amounts of homework! Even if he didn’t really understand why they got it.

“Alright Techno, just make sure to have something more than coffee this morning alright? And don’t let me catch you having something potato-based before lunch, got it?”

“No promises.” The pinkette replied, before grabbing an apple from the refrigerator and began walking towards his room.

Tommy however was still glued to the hallway. 

The hallway that led to said Bean's bedroom.

Even though he was Bean sized right now, Technoblade still towered over the young boy. So much so that the light overhead was slightly obscured, casting an eerie shadow over the teens face making his deep brown eyes appear to glow a dark red. Tommy felt the way his heart spiked, his instincts screaming at him to run as his eyes darted around looking for potential tunnels and crevices to escape to. Anything to get away from this predator of man as they came to a steady stop before him.

“Ahem.” The teen cleared his throat along with a flick of his head.

What did he want? He hadn’t even done anything and was already in trouble? Should he have moved to the table quicker? Or had he stared too long?

A second cough with another jerk of the teen's head as Tommy’s anxiety began to grow finally keyed what Techno wanted from him.

Oh . 

He wanted him to move.

“Tech, quit scaring the poor kid and go around them.” Phil teasingly scolded. “You’re gonna give Tommy a heart attack.”

Techno huffed in minor annoyance before shuffling past, minorly brushing against Tommy’s arm as he did. It wasn’t hard or anything, but Tommy couldn’t suppress the flinch it caused from his prior panic. He missed the way Techno’s eyes furrowed in concern as he hurried to move before he caused any more problems.

“Don’t mind him Tommy,” Wilbur piped up, drawing the younger's attention back to the table. “He’s not much of a people person.”

The blonde finally let himself breathe as he brought his attention back to the brunette as they continued. “Come take a seat and have some breakfast, yeah?”

Tommy nodded, gingerly making his way over to the table plopping down opposite Wilbur as instructed before. As he sat, Phil picked up a plate and served a freshly cooked waffle onto it, before drizzling it in thick golden syrup and strawberries.

“Here you are, mate.” The man said placing the decorative dessert in front of him with a knife and fork.

He whispered his thanks as he picked up the utensils, but the Borrower couldn’t help but be on edge. Even if Phil and Wilbur had been nice to him his whole stay, Techno clearly didn’t want him here. He was sure that after breakfast, Phil was going to take him back to the park like he’d said, but then what? He couldn’t tell them that his real home was actually here, but also couldn’t risk being taken to the park and never finding his way back.

There had to be a way to figure out this whole mess before they brought up leaving. At most he just had to figure out a way to get back from the park after they left him there because it’s not like the walls were an option until he had a grasp on how he kept growing and shrinking.

Tommy cut a bit of the waffle off before stabbing it and a strawberry onto his fork, the maple syrup having sunken into the fluffy dessert. At least he’d get to enjoy one more good meal before he gets temporarily kicked out. 

‘Hopefully not forever’ the Borrower thought bitterly at the idea of abandoning yet another home.

“So, Tommy,” Phil began as he set a plate of his own waffles down to join the pair at the table. “Feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah, a bit.” He answered as he took another mouthful of waffle. “The waffles are really good.” The boy said, muffled between chews.

“Ew, finish your mouthful before you speak.” Wilbur grimaced as Tommy shovelled another forkful of waffle in. “I don’t want to see your mushed-up breakfast, thanks.”

Tommy slowed his chewing and allowed himself to swallow. Shoot, he hadn’t meant to upset him with how he ate again. Did he now have to be conscious about how he ate too? He thought humans ate like this all the time though?

“Wilbur.” Phil scolded as he elbowed his son in the arm. “You’re almost as bad as Techno.” 

The man sighed before turning his attention back to the tense blonde with a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright Tommy that’s not what Wilbur meant. It’s just you need to finish your mouthful before speaking. You could choke if you’re not careful.”

The boy nodded hesitantly before taking another mouthful and chewing it fully before swallowing. Why did humans have to have so many rules? In the colony, no one would have bat an eye if you spoke with your mouth full. You’d get your share and move on. How you ate was no one’s business and certainly no one cared about how Tommy ate. Then again, he’d never really had enough food to stuff his face when he was at the colony for it to be an issue. 

Perhaps he was being sloppy…

“Sorry.” He whispered before taking another bite. 

Phil sighed, setting down his knife with a soft clink. How was he going to get this kid to see that he was safe here? He hadn’t meant to make them feel more uncomfortable but it seemed the stress of it all was starting to get to the kid.

The man stared at the plate in front of him, his waffles half-eaten and starting to get cold. Each step of progress to make Tommy feel comfortable felt like it took 2 steps back. The kid was probably itching to get to the park and get back home too, but the thought of leaving Tommy like this just didn’t sit well with him. He glanced at the young blonde as he took his time with each bite, noticing how his gaze flicked from Wilbur to him and back to the plate worried as they ate in silence.

So tense, like walking on thin ice…

After finishing pacing himself on breakfast, Tommy had been intercepted by Wilbur. 

The brunette had taken one look at him and insisted he have a shower, shoving some clean clothes into him and ushered him into the bathroom. It’s a good thing he knew how taps worked, because understanding how to change water temperature would have been an awful experience had he not. 

Despite feeling bad about using the Crafts water, Tommy had to admit being able to wash up properly after so long felt wonderfully refreshing. Even seeing his own reflection in the mirror; clean and well-groomed for the first time in years, had him taken aback at how nice his hair and skin looked after a good wash.

The clothes Wilbur had given him had been some old clothes he didn’t fit into anymore and had had lying around. A pair of jeans, a basic t-shirt with some humans on it that Tommy didn’t recognise and an old blue sweater that was slightly too big on him. It felt odd to wear clothes made with fabrics of such high quality, but he instantly fell in love with the sweater. 

Now yes, he was aware of how bad his clothes had been. They were basically falling to bits on him, but it’s not like he didn’t know that. The Great Tommyinnit knows how to make nice clothes thank you very much.

If anything he was a pro tailor back in the colony, but considering he’d been roaming for weeks at a time carrying only the bare necessities before finally settling in at the crafts; new clothes hadn’t been much of a priority. He’d only really just managed to get his new home to his liking and with all the necessities he would need. New clothing had been next on his to-do list, if the mud-stained and holey garments he wore daily had made any indications of needing them.

He just needed a few days to gather the fabric and thread and he’d have a new wardrobe within the week. But the clothes he made vs the clothes Wilbur had lent him were nothing in comparison to quality! It was all just so soft and silky feeling and Tommy almost never wanted to take any of it off even if it was slightly too big. It wouldn’t be hard to adjust the seams on the jeans to make them fit better and the same with the shirt. His trusty handmade needle could make quick work of that. 

Maybe Wilbur wouldn’t mind if he took them home with him? 

That was, if he’d ever be able to go home.

Tommy still didn’t understand how any of this worked and trying to make himself leave the bathroom to ‘take him home’ was not helping.

The curling feeling in his gut telling him to just stay put and hide kept him mulling over the options in his head. But how could he do that after he told Phil he lived near the park? They would expect him to be fine once he left and go back home just like he supposedly wanted.

He turned to face himself in the mirror, stray water droplets dripped down the side of his face from his still-damp hair. The clean, presentable Tommy he saw now, no longer the same dirty, orphan he knew he was. Perhaps if he’d always been like this, he’d never have been kicked out of the colony. He never would have been alienated by those meant to care, never felt so small when it was normal. But now he was big, clean and everything someone might love as a Human Bean and yet he felt so fake hiding behind a false facade.

After all, he was only a Borrower.

The dreaded small feeling came creeping back in and all it took was one glance at the mirror for Tommy to wish he was back to his old self. He shouldn’t have put the thought of being loved in his head again. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bear the thought of the Crafts turning on him should this disguise fall. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he clutched the edge of the sink counter.

He wanted to go home and be small again. Hide away where it was safe from all that was out to get him. Away from this reflection of a boy he didn’t recognise. A tingly sensation pricked at his skin as tears began to drip steadily down his cheeks. He was being childish; he knew that, but he didn’t care. Why couldn’t he just be loved as he was?

Upon opening his eyes to look at the disgrace that was him in the mirror, Tommy found he was no longer staring at himself, but rather at the side of the wooden cabinet- three times smaller than he’d been almost seconds before. 

He’d shrunk. Again?

Confusion swept over his mind as he scrubbed at his face. How did this keep happening? One second he’s big and hating his Bean size counterpart, the next he’s smaller and wishing….

To be smaller…

It suddenly all began to make sense as the puzzle pieces began to slot into place. Every time he’d grown or shrunk, he’d been wishing to change. To be bigger to catch up or smaller to go home. He willed it, and it happened. 

Did his desire to change trigger the shift of his size?

Tentatively, Tommy stood back from the counter and focused hard. He wanted to be smaller, like his old self. Small enough to fit through the cracks, small enough to hide out of sight, be 3 inches tall again, the only right size. The Tommy size.

The tingling returned, this time all over his body as the blonde focused on changing his shape to be what he envisioned. It was a warm sensation and Tommy thought it was strange how he’d never felt it until now. When the tingling dissipated, Tommy slowly opened his eyes as a small gasp escaped him.

“I shrunk.” He whispered in awe as he took in the now enlarged bathroom. He grabbed at his hands and arms, patting himself down to prove that he indeed had changed with a disbelieving laugh. “I’m me again.” 

“Ha, I’m actually me! Oh, thank prime.” Tommy cheered as he hugged himself tight. “I thought I’d never work this out.”

The familiarity of large objects and tall ceilings finally returned the Borrower's sense of normalcy. How he missed this. He could finally go home, size not restricting him at all and return back to the safety of the walls. Just the walls, his tiny shoebox home and-

Me.

Tommy glanced around the little bathroom. The light green tiles were clearly a design choice by Phil but the fluffy light blue towels were definitely a conscious decision by Wilbur, and you’d never guess the yellow daffodils were put together by Technoblade. Each had their own little way of expressing themselves.

Tommy sighed as he stared at his hands, inspecting them front and back.

So a simple thought was all it took to change size right? 

Just think big- be big. Simple. 

Right?

Only a bit of tingling later and Tommy was back to his Bean height. It truly took no effort at all, as if it was second nature to him. Not Borrower nature, but certainly something. Maybe the other Borrowers had always been able to sense that in him. This thing that wasn’t quite right was this incredible size-shifting ability that probably no one had ever heard of and he had it. He certainly was no Borrowerer and definitely not a Bean. 

But no one else knew that.

Tentatively, Tommy reached out and picked up a single Daffodil and twirled it in his hand. He’d heard Technoblade talking about how there was a whole language of flowers and that each one meant something different when presented to another person. He couldn’t remember what a Daffodil meant but, the flower itself brought the happy memories of Crafts to the forefront of his mind.

They didn’t know what he was and with this shifting ability sort of figured out, what could stop him from staying? Or at least from getting to know the Crafts better. With something to leave behind, all it would take is to leave a trail back to the Crafts house from the park and he could go and come when he pleased. He’d be able to walk distances that used to take him days in a matter of minutes with ease and the Crafts would never have to know about where his true place of residence was.

It was a second chance at having a real family, or at least a relationship with someone that didn’t immediately hate him. He wouldn’t have to leave forever and could come back and actually talk to someone! It may be risky without knowing the full extent of the shifts, but it was a chance and a chance he was willing to take. 

A knock at the door caused the boy to jump, but thankfully he remained silent this time. 

“Tommy you alright in there?” It was Phil. Bless the old man's heart for his concern. “You’ve been in there awhile and just wanted to check if you were okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright,” Tommy called back through the door looking around the bathroom for something to enact his hastily thrown together plan. “Just about done. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay, we’ll get ready to leave shortly to take you back to the park then, if you’re happy to.” 

The blonde finally spotted something suitable for his trail and quickly grabbed a handful of decorative little blue pebbles from the bottom of a vase filled with fake pink camellia flowers and shoved them into his pocket before grabbing his dirty clothes.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy said as he opened the door to where the taller blonde was standing a little bit away looking minorly concerned.

“Let’s get going.” the boy said with a smile.

This was going to work. 

He knew it.

 ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*

__________________________

YAY! WE FINISHED CHAPTER 4!!! WOOOOO Again I am so sorry this took so long to do. I've been working on it on and off for awhile with little progress and life has just been kicking my butt lately that finishing stuff up sucks. I have made a start on chapter 5 and I do plan to finish this fic, it just may take awhile with current circumstances.

HUGE thank you to @a-xyz-s and @munchkin1156 for beta reading this chapter and grammar issues! You are my heroes TwT.

TAG LIST: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles @box-beanz

Link to tag list for future tags :3

✨Thanks for reading! <3✨

[musicallygt]

It’s probably obvious by now that this post I made some time ago was always about these two lol

[rosella35]

Kaleb's Bad Day: Part II

Part II of my little thing featuring Kaleb's existentialism and Brooke being... considerate? Consider this a teaser of what their relationship will be like two months after the events of the main story...

I hope you enjoy!

Content warning: contains swearing and themes of prejudice.

****

After checking briefly that the coast was clear, Brooke sucked in a breath and exited the girls bathroom. She walked down the empty hallway with as much purpose as she could muster, though her heart still pounded loudly in her chest. She could feel a second, much smaller heart pounding against her body as well, fluttering even faster than her own. Kaleb sat hunched up at the bottom of her jacket pocket, his tiny, shaking hands gripping the thick denim on either side of him to steady himself.  

After the two of them had recovered from their embarrassment in the bathroom and Kaleb had readjusted the toilet paper around his waist, Brooke had taken it upon herself to put the rest of their plan in action—anything to get her mind off of what she’d just witnessed. Obviously, Kaleb had protested against her planned hiding spot for him, complaining that it would be too obvious. To prove her point, Brooke had stood in front of the mirror by the sink, demonstrating how little Kaleb’s tiny form actually stood out from inside the pocket. After seeing that, Kaleb had shivered but said nothing, and dropped down into the pocket without a word. 

If anything could have reminded him of just how small he was compared to a human, it was that. 

A few minutes of walking later and Brooke cleared her throat, a sound that Kaleb felt as well as heard from his position. “We’re at your locker.” She announced. When no movement could be felt from her pocket other than Kaleb’s slight weight, Brooke frowned. “Oh, c’mon, are you really gonna sulk for the rest of the day? Your clothes are in there, right?” 

Carefully, she lifted the flap of the pocket up, watching the small borrower inside shield his eyes from the sudden change of lighting and peer up at her cautiously. Curled up as Kaleb was, her pocket almost looked roomy, a thought that had never exactly crossed Brooke’s mind before. “If you don’t wanna move yet, then at least tell me your locker combination.” 

“It’s 1-2-6-4.” Kaleb replied, voice quieter than normal. 

“1-2-6-4…” Brooke muttered to herself as she fiddled with the lock. Moments later, the door came loose with a faint click, and she pulled it open, revealing Kaleb’s untidy collection of belongings. Brooke stared at the locker’s contents for a moment in bemusement. At first glance, it looked like your everyday teenage boy’s locker: a disorganised pile of notebooks, pens, and crumpled worksheets. What drew her attention though was the assortment of knick-knacks Kaleb had managed to cram into one corner—stray buttons, rubber bands, bits of string and wire, thumbtacks, screws, aluminium foil, and even an empty plastic soy sauce fish from a packet of sushi. Brook wrinkled her nose. “Sheesh, it’s like a dumping ground in here. You do know we have bins on campus, right?” 

Kaleb gave a sheepish shrug from within the confines of her pocket. “What’s that saying you humans use? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?”

She groaned. “You’re obsessive.” 

Not bothering to wait for his snarky reply, Brooke leaned into the locker so her chest was out of sight of anyone passing by and reached a hand into her jacket pocket, closing her fingers around the borrower inside as gently as she could muster. Kaleb couldn’t help but shudder slightly as he felt the all-encompassing pressure of those digits against his torso. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being handled by humans, despite how many times Brooke had proven herself to be careful in the past. Kaleb fought against his instincts to squirm against her grip as he was brought out of the pocket and into the relatively spacious interior of his locker. Once inside, he took a moment to adjust the toilet paper around his waist, before glancing across at Brooke, whose giant frame blocked out the expanse of the hallway beyond. 

“Thanks for the lift.” He said, shifting awkwardly under her gaze and trying to mask the unsettling feeling of being watched with a half-assed smile. “You can close the door while I get changed. I’ll knock twice when I’m done.” 

“Right.” Brooke nodded. The human girl spared the empty hallway a quick glance, before pushing the locker shut with a creak. 

The second the door clicked shut and darkness swallowed up the locker’s interior, Kaleb let out the breath he’d been holding in. His eyes adjusted instantly to the nearly pitch-black space, taking in the stack of notebooks, school supplies and trinkets he’d only ever interacted with at human size. It almost felt surreal seeing them now, like he was a stranger getting a glimpse into the unreachable world of Kaleb the human. Those thoughts nagged at Kaleb’s mind as he sought out the small pile of borrower clothes he kept tucked away at the back of his locker. Wasting no time, he tugged on a simple short-sleeved navy shirt, capri pants and tan shoes, and tapped lightly on the metal door to let Brooke know he was done.

Kaleb shielded his eyes as light flooded back into the locker and his world opened up again to reveal Brooke’s gigantic gaze. From outside, the human girl smiled slightly, glad to see him back in his usual borrower getup. Anything to get her mind off his bare chest, and… well… Brooke’s crude thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of the school bell echoing through the hallway. Kaleb jumped at the volume, tiny hands clamped over his ears. “Crap.” He winced, glancing around nervously. “I forgot we still had recess before next period.”

“Me too.” Brooke said, before realising the implications. “Oh, shit.” Acting on instinct, her hand shot out to wrap around Kaleb’s midsection, and she quickly lifted the flap of her jacket pocket to drop him inside, out of sight. The borrower yelped at the sudden transfer, disoriented, though his breath hitched as the noise outside suddenly picked up, hundreds of humans beginning to swarm the halls in their mad dash to the cafeteria. He drew his knees to his chest automatically, feeling smaller than ever. Despite knowing full well that no one would ever suspect Brooke Tucker of all people to have a borrower hidden away in her pocket, the layer of denim separating him from the outside world didn’t feel thick enough. 

Brooke, meanwhile, slammed Kaleb’s locker shut before anyone could see what she was doing, and started off down the hall. She passed by her own locker on the way to retrieve her packed lunch—with her parents’ current financial situation, joining the line for the cafeteria felt like a fleeting memory—before hesitating, wondering where she should go. 

From inside her pocket, Kaleb’s ears were pricked, listening intently to the sea of voices and squeaking of giant sets of shoes on the vinyl floor outside. It was always disorienting to travel by pocket and even more so when he wasn’t able to see what was going on around him. With a sigh, he shifted into a more comfortable position with his back against the wall of Brooke’s chest, hearing as well as feeling the pounding of her giant heart through the denim. Suddenly, the commotion outside ceased, and Kaleb frowned to himself, wondering where exactly his human chauffeur had ended up. Tentatively, he lifted the flap of the pocket, though froze when he felt the pressure of her hand on the outside, covering it. “Hang on.” Her voice rumbled through him. 

Kaleb’s stomach lurched uncomfortably as he felt her take a seat. Finally, once she was settled, Brooke lifted the pocket’s flap to allow her borrower passenger to take in their surroundings. 

Immediately, Kaleb pressed himself back into the depths of the pocket. “We’re outside?” He gulped, blinking up at the blue sky he rarely ever got to see from his regular size. “I thought you’d go to the library or something.” 

Brooke leant back against the trunk of the tree she’d chosen to sit under. Her face was dappled with the shadows of the rustling leaves above as she stared down at him, confused. “No one ever sits here, so I figured it’d be safer. I guess I could find us a spot in the library though, if you really want.” 

“Oh.” Kaleb said, hiding his flushed face. It was rare for Brooke to consider his needs like that. “No, it’s okay.” He said hurriedly, trying to hide the flutter of nerves that always came with being outside in an unfamiliar place. “I don’t mind staying here.” 

“Sweet.” Brooke said simply, turning to get out her lunch. Unwrapping her somewhat squished sandwich, she hesitated, sparing her downsized classmate a thoughtful glance. “Uh, do you want some of this? It’s just PB and J, but if you’re hungry…” 

“Sure.” Kaleb smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” 

Unsure how to go about sharing her lunch with a borrower, Brooke broke a small portion off her sandwich and held it out to him between her pinched fingers. She tried not to think about how she’d used her bare hands to touch his food, or how stale the bread her mum had used to make the sandwich probably was. Luckily, Kaleb didn’t seem to mind at all. To a borrower, food was food, and the novelty of actually being able to eat while at human school wasn’t lost on him. He accepted the squished clump of bread and condiments with a grin, nodding his thanks. 

It didn’t escape Brooke’s attention that Kaleb hadn’t asked to leave her pocket since she’d sat down. “You can come out, if you want.” She said, looking out at their surroundings. The tree she’d chosen was far enough against the perimeter of the school grounds that no other students were in sight, other than a group of boys playing soccer on the oval nearby. Even if somebody did come over, Kaleb would have plenty of time to duck out of sight before they arrived.  

Apparently that wasn’t enough to convince the borrower in question. “I’m fine just staying here.” Kaleb said dismissively. “I don’t wanna risk anyone seeing me.” 

He supposed it was a version of the truth. In actuality, there was a larger part of Kaleb that was absolutely terrified by the thought of being stuck out in the open without his borrowing gear. It was one of those realities of his kind that he would never expect any human to understand, let alone Brooke. To him, venturing outside unequipped was like a death sentence, something even the most hardened of borrowers wouldn’t dream of doing. Just as humankind had survived by creating their tools and weapons and inventions, a borrower’s grappling hooks, sewing needle swords, and thumbtack daggers were like their lifeline. Without them, Kaleb would be the perfect prey for a crow or stray cat, or worse, an overly curious human who just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Which leaves me all the more dependent on Brooke right now. That unhelpful part of his brain reminded him. 

“Fair.” The human girl said. “I don’t exactly wanna be caught eating lunch with a borrower, either.” 

Kaleb smirked, internally glad she hadn’t pressed the issue. “Doesn’t really suit the exterminator’s daughter reputation, huh?”

“I will leave you here.” 

They were silent for a moment, and Kaleb took a bite of his makeshift sandwich, chewing thoughtfully and trying to ignore the sound of Brooke doing the same albeit at a larger, far more unsettling scale. “I never thought I’d see the school like this.” He admitted as a way of distraction, gazing over at the red and yellow brick building in the distance. From his current perspective, there might as well have been an ocean of grass separating it from where Brooke was sitting; a reality that was both humbling and unnerving at the same time. Kaleb found himself wanting to try and explain it to her, whether she chose to listen or not. 

“I’ve always kinda seen coming here as like my second life, where I can live the way any other human teenager would without being in constant fear of danger or being caught.” He said, arms draped over the lip of Brooke’s pocket as he brooded. “But right now, when I’m like this, it’s hard to explain. It makes it so obvious that the person I become when I’m human-sized—my whole identity when I’m at school—it’s all fake. Just a lie I built to protect this Kaleb. The real me.” 

Kaleb stared at the outline of his hands, so tiny in comparison to the human whose pocket he leant out of, and even tinier when held out in front of the backdrop of Westmount State High. When Brooke said nothing in response, he sighed, speaking more to himself than anything. “But still… Even though Upsize is a pain to deal with, and clearly it doesn’t always work the way it’s supposed to, I can’t imagine going back to the way things were before I started using it.”

Her borrower neighbour’s honest words stirred up a torrent of emotions inside Brooke; something that had been happening more and more frequently lately. I should’ve known he’d start getting all existential on me, her thoughts were screaming. Deep down, she knew that she and Kaleb were beginning to reach a bit of a stalemate with their empty threats and bickering, but a part of her still found comfort in those interactions. She could keep her guard up that way, and maintain a certain degree of separation from being genuine with him. Still, Brooke couldn’t deny that other part of her—one she tried to keep sealed away—that yearned for connection. If someone had told her two months ago that she’d be finding that connection from Kaleb Finch of all people, she would have laughed in their face. And yet here they were, and Brooke couldn’t help but agree with his words. She was sick of pretending, too. 

“You basically just summed up why so many humans like playing video games.” Brooke mused, swallowing the last of her sandwich and leaning back against the tree trunk with her legs stretched out in front of her. She laced her hands behind her head. “When you’re playing as a character and really immersing yourself in their world, it’s easy to forget how shitty your own life is behind the screen.” 

Now it was Kaleb’s turn to hesitate, not expecting such an earnest answer. Brooke surprised him more and more with those these days. “My life isn’t shitty.” He said. “It’s just…” He stared down at his hands again.

“Small?” The human girl offered with a smug grin.

Kaleb hid his own smile behind the material of her pocket. “I was going to say dull, but I guess that’s a more obvious way of putting it.” 

“To be honest, I forget too.” Brooke said. “That you’re actually a borrower. You fake being human so well it’s kinda scary. But then I come home and you’re suddenly popping out of some random hole in the wall and scaring the shit out of me like it’s the most normal thing ever.” She gave a half-hearted, knowing sigh. “I get it. For you, the difference between who you are at school versus home is literally huge, and honestly, I don’t even want to try and imagine what that’s like. But you’re not really as alone as you think. Every human who knows what’s good for them puts on a face at school to protect themselves. It’s just part of fitting in until you’ve figured out the kind of person you want to be.” 

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” Kaleb said, looking up at her dinner-plate-sized grey eyes as they gazed out across the grassy oval. He could see that the Brooke at school was a different person too, in a way. She always seemed sadder, more wistful. Hidden behind that trademark smug look of hers was the pain of understanding what it felt like to be marginalised. It made Kaleb wonder how much of that was his fault. 

“I just wish I could tell everyone the truth.” He blurted out before he could fall into that particular pit of self-loathing.

From his position, Kaleb could feel as well as hear Brooke snicker. “Seriously? Like the whole class?” She asked with an amused grin. “You reckon you could trust them all? Even Amy Snyder?” 

I trust you. Kaleb wanted to say. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He agreed instead, but found himself hesitating when two figures kicking a soccer ball across the oval caught his eye. Kaleb blinked, surprised at how small they both looked from this distance, even though he knew it was only a matter of perspective. The borrower sighed. “I’d want to tell Thomas and Marcus.” He amended. “I’ve known them since I started here back in middle school. It’s exhausting, lying to them about everything. I didn’t really notice it until I started opening up to you.” 

Brooke hummed in agreement. “Yeah. Now that you mention it, I guess you do find every opportunity to tell me some weird borrower fact that I don’t actually care about.” 

When Kaleb shot her a withering look, the human girl tried again, though not without smirking first. “You’re worried they’ll look at you differently once they find out what you are, right?” 

Kaleb’s gaze dropped to the inside of her jacket pocket, where he began to fidget with the overlock stitching lining the edge. “Well… yeah.” He said quietly. “I mean, you did, didn’t you?” 

“I… did. I mean, I do.” Brooke had to admit. He’d gotten her there. Glancing down at his tiny, sulking form, she sighed, trying not to think too hard about how much she meant the words that came out of her mouth next:

“But is that really a bad thing? Yeah, I admit I still think borrowers are shit-talking little tight-wads, and I bet you still think me and my family are just another bunch of human bigots… but at least that means we both understand each other a little better, right?” 

Kaleb froze in place. Tactless as she was, he could see Brooke’s intentions as plain as day, how this was her own roundabout method of cheering him up. It made him smile, properly this time, and he met her giant eyes, opening his mouth to reply.

But then the bell rang again, signalling it was time to go back to class.

****

Fourth period was as dreary as ever for Brooke, who sat in her usual spot up the very back of the classroom so she could doodle in her notebook in peace. Although she was by no means flunking out of the subject, she definitely didn’t harbour the level of care towards maths that the borrower stowed away in her pocket seemed to have. Feeling her eyelids droop out of boredom, Brooke hid a yawn behind one hand while she sketched the outline of a guitar with the other. She hadn’t felt Kaleb’s tiny form shift against the inside of her pocket in a while now, figuring he was busy listening intently to Mrs Crowley taking questions about their upcoming exam as promised. 

Brooke rested her elbow on her desk and propped up her head with a hand. At the front of the classroom beside the whiteboard, the clock ticked away at her tauntingly. She blew the bangs out of her eyes with a huff. The sketch of her old guitar had killed exactly ten minutes of class time. 

Only eighty more to go. She thought miserably, reminded again of Kaleb and his abnormal appreciation for maths.  

After triple checking that no one was looking, Brooke decided that now was as good a time as any to check on the borrower in question. Maybe seeing him taking rigorous notes using the tiny scrap of paper and pacer lead she’d provided him earlier would spur her into actually engaging in the lesson herself. So, as quietly and non-discreetly as she could muster, Brooke pinched the flap of her jacket pocket between her thumb and forefinger and lifted it up to peer inside. She was fully expecting Kaleb’s tiny hand to immediately try to bat away her intruding digits, and for him to let out a string of curses for interrupting his note-taking (which she probably deserved).

Instead, Brooke was met with a very different sight.  

Her borrower classmate lay fast asleep at the bottom of the pocket, paper scrap and lead all but forgotten. The human girl watched his tiny chest rise and fall steadily, undisturbed by her relatively giant eyes gazing in. His body was curled up, free of the tension it had harboured since shrinking down hours ago. The near-permanent shit-eating grin had been wiped from his face, his features softened and relaxed. Brooke’s gaze lingered on his slumbering form for a moment longer, before she let the pocket flap fall back into place.

So much for catching those stupid exam tips. She thought to herself. 

For some reason though, Brooke wasn’t as annoyed as she imagined she’d be. If anything, seeing Kaleb let his near-impenetrable guard down after everything he’d been through that day made the human girl’s chest swell with unexpected warmth and that all-too-familiar emotion she wouldn’t dare acknowledge out loud. 

The corner of her lips tugging upwards into a smile, Brooke let out a sigh and turned to a fresh page of her notebook, writing the title “final exam tips” at the top. 

“You’re welcome." She whispered as she got to work.

[nobodywritingao3]

Cold Love

masterpost

Wilbur is a dragon, his most wellkept secret. Tommy finds out so he brings him back to his hoard in the mountains.

CW: - vore

title taken from Cold Love by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

word count: 1.7k 🐉 read it on AO3

"Let me go," Tommy spits out. Despite his aggression, there's a fearful, panicky air about him that sends pangs into Wilbur's chest.

"Toms, come on. You know me - you know I'd never hurt you." He wrestles him into the ground, easily pinning him to the dirt without having to exert real effort.

Tommy's arms shake from the effort of trying to fight him off. Wilbur is almost relaxed above him, a slight frown on his face as he easily presses the boy down. The more he tries to fight and the more he sees how futile it is, the more his hostility slips into abject terror.

"Wilbur, please." His voice cracks and he starts to go limp. He blinks back tears. "I won't tell a soul. Your secret is safe, just let me go. I'll disappear, and you'll never hear from me again."

No. No, he doesn't want that at all -

And something must show on his face too, because Tommy's eyes widen at his reaction, and he starts to writhe again, sobs building in his chest.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I don't - I didn't - "

"Hush."

He falls dead silent, tears still streaming down the sides of his face.

"You're fine," Wilbur murmurs to him, trying to imbue his words with as much love as he can. "Everything's going to be fine, okay?"

He starts to stand, pulling Tommy up with him as he goes.

He's tense in his arms, but Wilbur remains gentle.

As soon as they're both standing up, Tommy lurches away from him, but he's not fast enough.

Wilbur pulls him close, his arms still loose around Tommy. "Were you trying to catch me off guard?"

Tommy is sobbing and yelling and hitting at his chest, but he doesn't react.

"I... what are you doing? You - you know I'm much stronger than humans, sweetheart, you've got to stop fighting me."

He breaks down in his arms and tries to fall to the ground, but Wilbur catches him and holds, staring at him in puzzlement.

"How do I make this better?" He asks, almost blankly.

Tommy is still crying. "You - you ate the mayor," he whimpers. "You burned half the village to the ground. You burned the orphanage to the ground. You killed Phil and Tech - "

Wilbur swallows a lump in his throat and shoves down rising feelings of guilt. "I did what I had to do. I ate the mayor, I destroyed your village, including the orphanage. But how else could I get you?" He brushes a strand of hair from Tommy's eyes. "All that paperwork... it's easier if they think you perished in the fire. And for the record - " he conspiratorially winks at Tommy, trying to get humor him, "Phil and Techno are just fine."

He doesn't wait for a response, closing his eyes and starting to shift. He pays extra mind to Tommy's position in his arms. The change is done in seconds, and when he opens his eyes again, Tommy's just a tiny little thing lying between his clawed paws.

"Treasure," he purrs irreverently. "My little human - let's get you taken care of, yeah?"

Tommy stares up at him with wide eyes, completely frozen on the ground.

Wilbur wastes no time in leaning down and swallowing Tommy. He screams and kicks as he goes down the throat, but Wilbur's body was designed to eat live prey. Functionally speaking at least, Tommy is no different from the deer or tigers or knights he regularly eats.

He hums contentedly as Tommy settles into his brood pouch. It's padded out so he can be rough as he wants in there and it won't hurt either of them (and let it be said that he is trying very hard to hurt Wilbur).

"You're safe now, Tommy. Let's get you back to the rest of my hoard." He purrs again, a burst of delight in his chest. "I've waited so long to get you with the rest of my collection. Bit of a shame that you found out this way, but I'm a little glad too. I was going to reveal myself in a few months, but now I don't have to wait."

He spreads his wings and takes flight towards the treacherous mountains. Only the royals' finest knights could traverse the landscape, and even then, they were so tired and cold from the trip that their hands could barely grip the hilts of their swords.

He lands in the entrance and strides in. Techno and Phil sit idly on a pile of gold coins, chatting away, but as soon as their eyes land on him, they avert their gazes and seem to wilt. He's learned not to take it to heart - they've gotten better about managing their fear of him in the past few months since he added them to his hoard, and he's sure that as the years progress, all three of his humans will come around again.

He leans over Techno and Phil and opens his mouth up, finding it just the teeniest bit funny when they flinch back and start to plead with him not eat them. He brings out Tommy, letting the boy gently fall onto the two men below.

He sits back and admires them, a happy sound growing in the back of his throat.

"Finally," he says dreamily, "I have all three of you."

He shifts back into his human form and saunters up to them, ignoring how Tommy flinches backwards into Techno and Phil.

Phil pulls Tommy into his arms and starts to soothingly rub circles into his shoulder. "Wilbur, you're scaring him."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "You were scared too, in the beginning. He'll get over it soon - you all will - and then you'll be a proper part of my hoard."

Phil and Technoblade share a glance that he doesn't bother to decipher.

"Your hoard... what does that mean?" Techno asks slowly.

Wilbur grins brightly at him. "My collection! My treasure - it means you're mine now."

Tommy stares at him slack-jawed.

"Why us?" It seems like it slips out of Phil's mouth, something he says before he has a chance to apply a filter. But Wilbur doesn't mind answering.

"Techno is my twin, Tommy is my little brother, and you're my father." Those are all the human words for the familial terms, so they should understand.

Phil bites his lip. "Wil... we love you, but you can't - "

"I can do whatever I want," he cuts in, his voice edged with aggression.

Phil falls silent.

Wilbur smiles at him again. "Do you have anymore questions?"

Techno awkwardly coughs. "I hate to be the bearer of the obvious, but humans don't live as long as dragons. We're a lot less hearty, and you've stationed us on Dead Man's Hill. Because that's the name of this mountain, Wilbur - Dead Man's Hill. Are you sure you don't want to take us somewhere else?"

He feels his expression darken. "That won't be an issue. You're my hoard now. Which means your life force is tied to mine, and all three of your aging processes have stopped. If I'm to die - if - then you'll begin to age again." He turns a steely eye to Techno's. "And we will leave this mountain. But only when I know you won't try to do something silly, like leave me."

Techno nods, avoiding his eyes. "Sounds good."

"It does, doesn't it?" He agrees happily. "Now that I've taken Tommy, my collection is complete."

"Sorry - sorry, what the fuck?" Tommy chimes in, finally having found his voice.

Techno lowers his voice and says into his ear, "Wilbur is a dragon and he's keeping us now."

Tommy stares at him. "I thought you were fucking dead."

"Mm, me too," he says dryly. "But I'm not. I'm just the adopted twin brother of a dragon."

"Did you know?!" Tommy asks, sitting up and stumbling away from them.

Wilbur watches him curiously, fondly noting as he tips backward into a stack of gold coins.

"Did they know what?"

"What do you - what do you fucking think, Wilbur?!" He screeches.

Wilbur smiles, and lets himself shift again. Tommy flinches away as he approaches but he doesn't mind, picking him up in his mouth and plopping him back down next to Phil and Techno.

"They didn't know," he says soothingly, gazing down at them. He curls his tail loosely around their little group, forming a protective barrier. Or a cage.

Techno slides an arm around Tommy's shoulders. "Trust me," he murmurs, "if we had known, we never would have let you - " he cuts himself off, seeming to stiffen as his eyes nervously dart up to Wilbur. "We didn't know," he concedes.

Wilbur laughs lightly. "Can you imagine if you had? You never would have been my friend! And Phil never would have taken both of us in. I had to lie."

There's a look on Phil's face that he can't decipher. "Wilbur... I would have. Of course I would have," he says gently. His words carry weight, but the meaning behind it is unidentifiable to Wilbur.

"No," he says simply. "So it's a good thing I lied. Because the years passed and you realized how much you loved me, and now that you know I'm a dragon, you won't leave."

A sharp wave of paranoid insecurity strikes through his chest. "I don't think you'll leave," he mutters in afterthought, his tail slightly tensing around them.

Technoblade looks conflicted. "We love you for you, your being a dragon doesn't change that."

Wilbur frowns down at him, puffing a plume of smoke out. "Why are you saying that?"

"What - what do you mean?"

"We aren't leaving this mountain, Techno. I'm not that stupid."

A look of surprise crosses his face. He's a good actor, Wilbur decides. "I wasn't saying that to trick you, we do love - "

"I know you do!" Wilbur sharply cuts in. "Because I spent years bonding with you as a human. And now that you know I'm a dragon, it doesn't matter!" He gives them a smile with his large, sharp teeth. He ignores how forced it feels. He ignores how it feels like he's trying to convince himself more than them.

Phil looks at him with a pained expression. "Mate - "

"You're a little scared right now, but that's fine," he purrs, cutting him off. "We have the rest of time for you to love me like you used to. You weren't supposed to find out, but you have, and that's fine. I'll just keep you here. I'll just keep you here, and we can be a proper family."

He nuzzles the three of them with his snout, ignoring how they flinch away from him. "I love you!" he exclaims. "And you love me. So everything is fine. It's fine."

~ ~ ~

🏷️: @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @flowers-of-plenty @gracideaviolet

hope you enjoyed :3

[x-monochrome-x]

MOB MOB MBO MOB

i love to cook and i love to bake bread and cookies and pies and cakes /lyrics inspired by @musicallygt 's mobshifter au!!!!! i love it so much and im going insane constantly

[alaskan-wallflower]

guys pls pls pls send me asks about my aus for me to answer in the morning 😪😪

[munchkin1156]

New au infodump?

Dystopian au go brr

This is going to be a dystopian (:0 shocking) sci-fi world with a borrower Tommy who has a special wristband that lets him sizeshift, a gift from a long lost friend.

The au is mainly sbi centric (because I have a very very hard time writing anything else, though believe me I will try one day), other than Tommy there will be avian hybrid Philza, piglin hybrid Technoblade, and shrunken phantom Wilbur who got shrunken due to technical issues with a device he was tinkering with (and now needs to figure out how to get back to normal size).

The sbi are all first class, first district people, which, though it does make them seem stuck up and posh, they don’t actually know about the crumbling world of the lower districts.

Tommy’s been forced to steal to survive, and while shifted into human form, accidentally loses his way and finds himself in the higher districts, where he runs into Phil.

…you can probably guess that Phil’s hybrid brain goes to ‘child-its-child-why-sad-keep-safe’

Phil offers to take Tommy to his house, wanting to help him as well as pry information out of him to try and find out why he’s so scrawny

Tommy (reluctantly) takes up the offer because free food and a chance to steal something of actual value so he can get a lot of money, two birds with one stone in a way…

Oh and I forgot to mention that the sbi is kinda famous/important…

So they go to the sbi’s house and Tommy meets Techno and Wilbur, who are also enchanted by the blond. When Tommy sees Wilbur, he loses it for a moment, thinking that he’d finally found another one of his kind, until Techno explains the situation and Tommy feels ashamed he let his instincts control him like that and almost force him to shift.

They have dinner and game night, over which they bond with Tommy a lot, and even offer him to stay for the night ‘cause it’s dark out.

Tommy says yes, knowing how dangerous it is to walk the lower districts streets at any given point, especially at night, and they set him up in his new bedroom the guest room.

In the middle of the night Tommy wakes up from a nightmare and accidentally reopens a stab wound that he got a couple night ago (I did say the lower was dangerous after all), therefore his body shifts down to borrower size in order to heal it faster.

He can’t shift back until it’s healed, and now he’s at a upper class house with people that have been nothing but kind to him, though he knows that once they see him for the pest he is they’ll kick him out.

Fuck.

. . .

That’s about what chapter one should be, though I won’t start it for a while, homework is murdering me and I used to be at a really chill school with basically none of it so….

Please please please ask me about this, I would love to answer shit about it :D

Taglist under cut: (it’s not long, tell me if you want to be added :])

@i-am-beckyu, @brick-a-doodle-do

[downsizedclab]

Hito tends to shrink at random when he's stressed. He is very bad at telling when he's stressed.

[cyncerity]

Karlnapity doodles??? 🥺 The bbs <3

YES YES YES MY BOYS MY BOYSSSS

TY SQUISHY I WILL TAKE ANY AND EVERY EXCUSE TO BE ABLE TO DRAW THESE THREE THEY MEAN THE WORLD TO ME

ok so i kinda went crazy here cause it’s almost 2 am and i said “hey there’s an idea i’ve had for going on 3 years that i keep saying i’ll animate and never do.” so i finally did.

this is for a very very old au, it’s actually the first au on this blog and has 1 story; which is karlnapity. I won’t go into all the lore and stuff but i’ll link that story here for those of you who weren’t here in 2021, it’s how they ended up together in this au <3. Basis is Sapnap is a human, Quackity is an avian, and Karl is an Ermine hybrid borrower.

[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."