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#any feedback is welcome
carai-an-caldazar · 1 year
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Real talk for a second
I find it hilarious how many people are angry about the Siuan changes. Just because you personally didn't mind the other changes, doesn't mean they weren't there before
Perrin was married and sees visions. Female channelers can't sense each other's potential, throwing over the whole White Tower's hierarchy. Rand went to the Eye with only Moiraine. Mat didn't even go to Shienar, and was healed from the dagger with one measly attempt from Moiraine. Ingtar is da'covale. Liandrin had a son. Min is in the wind instead of in Falme helping Egwene escape.
"Siuan picks the side of the White Tower" is relatively minor compared to some of these, especially considering that her fall is already foreshadowed. Her plot progression is intact, because it's the White Tower and the Aes Sedai will have to find a scapegoat for their shit show eventually, and who better to blame than their leader. Not to mention that book!Siuan never ever gives up on the Tower and works tirelessly to reunite it stronger, and better. She is and will always be the Amyrlin Seat, and will always choose duty over love - a trait she exhibits again and again and again
She will fall. She will proceed. She was never written to end up with Moiraine
Get over yourselves
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finalgirl1984 · 3 months
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First chapter of the Kendra lives fic is up.
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hazele-omega · 11 months
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Moments.
Zed and October in the silent undefined gloom, working away at the starship beneath their hands. Every placement of a screw or wire or bolt a grey strand of wish, hope, desperation dissolving into all the others. They could almost hear the absence of gentle mechanical whirring, feel the hole behind them where Lucien would stand and quietly watch.
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Sunlight engraving their eyes with images of each other, as Zed and Lucien let their gazes drift away from the burning stars and come together in a single second of acrylics on black paper, the burst of coloured Exosuit and the smile beneath it.
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Aboard the Broken Sword, the lights shoot the calloused face of its captain deep red, their hands letting the colour bleed all over the buttons and switches and heavy levers they push and pull to wake it up.
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Hands filled with nanites, frothing and tumbling as they suddenly arc across the room when Lucien runs from the pitch black, throwing themself out the door and onto the predawn grass. It holds them, like the kind eyes of the twin glows brushing the horizon, and the soft calling of dragons in the sky.
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A scream, strong hands that are not their own tearing down the very sky as Aria lets intention course through them and flare their nostrils with its hunger. Tentacles shifting the sand as they spin and surround her, gripping their shoulders and saying, Go on.
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Original work chptr 1 snippet
1 - A Not So Normal Day.
I never gave much thought to how I would die. When I had thought about it, I had always imagined something… different, something quiet that the universe wouldn't remember. But you dont always get what you wished for. I definitely found that out the hard way.
Eyes. staring, unblinking. Piercing into my very being. It was, weird i felt i know those eyes but that was madness. Those eyes are not normal. Dark and strong, now that sounds totally normal right? Well they were a harsh scrunched brow that looks like he has smelt something foul, black without an iris. They were completely dark. They looked straight out of a scary movie.
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prideknights · 5 months
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(What we have in mind for now are black dragons, with low density silver glitter, silver enamel, so that the pride flag pops)
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leclerity · 4 months
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stupid gets you killed
Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you have an emotional conversation after his reckless driving at a race. a/n: a short but angsty one, with a happy ending!
It could’ve been the end.
The way it felt, it almost was.
You watch as the red of the Ferrari and the green of the Aston Martin come close, inches apart, with Stroll nearly putting it in the back of your boyfriend’s car. Everyone around you gasps and for a split second, you see them touch and Charles’s car fly off into the grandstands – but that doesn’t happen. They don’t touch. Charles drives away unscathed, though you know that won’t be the end of it.
“That was too close,” says Arthur, shaking his head at the screen.
“He won’t like this too much,” you say and grab a pair of headphones lying around, listening in.
Everything is okay with the car, Bryan Bozzi says.
That was not okay! Charles screams. Who does he think he is?! Driving like an idiot… He should know better!
Keep your head calm, you’ve got forty laps to go.
You take off the headphones and tell Arthur what you just overheard. He shakes his head again, but you both know there’s nothing the two of you can do about it. Charles has been under pressure, ready to burst at any given moment, running second in the championship with maybe—maybe—a chance at something more. Anything that threatens it… Well, it throws him off.
You’re just waiting for the moment it happens.
The race keeps running, you listen in to the radio every so often, and his complaints and agitation are getting more obvious. He’s driving riskier, not caring enough about tyre management, and there’s a few moments when his car gets a little too close to another car.
He finishes in fourth. It’s not where he wanted to be but it’s better than out of the race, you tell yourself. There was a few moments where you held your breath, waiting to see if the anger is going to slip into careless mistakes, and it made you angry. Your boyfriend is better than this.
When he finishes the race, you run straight into his arms. “You did so well! I’m proud of you.”
“I could’ve done better,” he says.
“I know,” you say, and kiss him again. “Next time.”
Charles kisses you, too, before going to speak to others in the garage, keeping one eye on you at all times. You know he’s being hard on himself, but you see his clenched jaw, sunken shoulders, and you know this is going to be a tougher one than usual.
He’s in your orbit the most of the evening, glancing at you even when he’s in the media pen. You can hear some of the questions he’s being asked and a lot of them are about the incident and about his dangerous driving he nearly got a penalty for, and you can already hear the regret in his voice. He looks at you every time it comes up, as if he already knows how much it upset you.
At your side, Arthur gives you a nudge. “Are you going to talk some sense into him when you’re back at the hotel?”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”
“That was scary.”
You nod. “Too scary. I get the pressure and all, but…”
“Yeah,” Arthur says, “I don’t want to feel like I might lose my brother because he’s being angry and stupid.”
When you get home, you get dinner – he does the perfunctory celebrations and goes back to the hotel, where you’re waiting with him with your guys’ favourite takeaway. He had some time to hang out with the other drivers and now it’s time to hang out with you… But not before you give him a piece of mind.
He knows something’s wrong the moment he enters the hotel room.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” you say.
He frowns. “Okay. You sure?”
You give him a long look.
Charles sits down next to you, looking exhausted but ready to devour the food – but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits with his elbows on his knees, hands held together. “It’s the race.”
“Mhm.”
“That’s why you’re giving me attitude.”
“Mhm.”
“Is it because of the Stroll incident?”
You shake your head. He should know better and he does, it will just take him a moment.
He sighs and leans into the couch, a defeated look on his face. “I should’ve handled it better, right?”
“Yeah.” You put a hand on his thigh. “Driving like that, Charles… You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I would’ve been fine.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Babe—”
“Don’t babe me,” you say, shaking your head. “You got angry and…. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.”
Charles opens his mouth and closes it, knowing fair well that there’s nothing he could say in his defence that would make you change your mind. He sees it all on your face, you know it – the terror you’d gone through waiting to see if his anger will make him slip up, make a mistake; the threat of losing him.
He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it, before placing it on his chest, right where his heart is. “Y/N,” he says, gently. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me.”
“I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know.”
“It frightens me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I just—The thought of you—”
“I know. C’mere.”
Charles gives your hand a gentle tug and then your head is on his chest and his arms are wrapped around you, keeping you warm and safe. “I’m sorry for scaring you. My job is scary, but I shouldn’t make it any more difficult than it already is.”
He kisses the top of your head and you feel a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and he holds you even tighter.
“I’ll be less angry next time, I promise,” he whispers. “Less stupid. For you. Okay?”
You nod instead of answering, and he pulls your chin up with a gentle finger, and then he’s wiping your tears and kissing you gently, promising over and over again to never make you feel like that again – and he doesn’t.
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Its gotta say a lot that i'm at an age my life should be 100% within my control but there's still so much ambiguity
Fuckin incredible
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zelliphies-art · 6 months
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School gala, aged up version ✨
I loved chapter 96 so much 🥰
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muffinlance · 1 year
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Crochet Pattern: Rollable Isopuppy (Giant Isopod Dog)
Crochet an isopuppy! As cuddled in Salvage; story and pattern both by me. Whether you’ve read the story or not, treat yourself to a Very Good Dog. You deserve it. <3
>>> Get the pattern here! <<<
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[id: Photos of a crocheted isopuppy (giant isopod dog) from various angles. It has the head and tail of a dog, with isopod legs, shell, and antennae. It is a very Good Boi. End id.]
Also that is now my site for patterns, both sewn and crocheted (Dragon Zuko is also up there), so. Subscribe if you're interested in that. If you're interested in my writing, that's at this site. Also I'm on Ravelry now.
>>> Isopuppy Pattern! <<<
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leafsfromthevine · 7 months
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are we about to kiss rn? (based on that one photo... you know the one)
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evermoresversion · 1 year
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Brat taming jere x reader who acts out
example“stop acting like a brat or I’ll fuck that attitude out of you”
MDNI, JEREMIAH FISHER. +18
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PAIRING Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader
REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JEREMIAH'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
"Kiss me." He ordered, looking into your eyes.
You shook your head, denying him your gaze. So he cupped your face in one hand, squeezing your cheeks to make you look at him.
"I said fucking kiss me." you knew he didn't like it when you disobeyed him so you denied once again to annoy him a little. "Stop acting like a brat or I'll fuck that attitude out of you."
"Make me."
Then a graceless smile crossed his lips.
"You don't know when to shut the fuck up, do you?" The only thing you knew was that from one moment to the next, Jeremiah took you into his arms and put you on top of his bed, he stood on top of you and with his hand on your neck, giving a little pressure, he kissed you lustfully.
He broke away to remove your clothes while you tried to take off his shirt, he grabbed your hand to stop you and looked at you, admiring your entire body when you were naked and completely at his mercy.
"Now, this is what's going to happen." He kissed your neck as one of his hands made its way between your legs. "I'm going to eat out this pretty pussy until you beg and ask me to stop like my good girl would, do you understand?"
Before you could respond, his head was already between your legs, leaving wet kisses on your inner thighs making you sigh.
He left kisses around your center but never there, just when you were about to tell him to stop teasing, his tongue gave a long lick to your entrance.
“Oh shit…” you sighed, squeezing your eyes closed, losing yourself in the feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue on you.
He continued his attack, making you flinch. Your senses were drunk on him, you were dazed and could only see white.
He sucked on your clit, lengthening your orgasm but then the overstimulation started to come.
It felt so fucking pleasurable and painful at the same time.
"Baby please..."
"Now I'm 'baby' right? If you want me to stop you know what to do." His fingers continued to move inside you, your thighs tightened around his head to try to push him away but he had more strength than you, so he kept you still and in your place.
Your breath caught in your throat and you couldn't articulate another word other than his name.
"Jere..." your chest rose and fell as you once again felt your second orgasm approaching. "please, please, pleaseeee, "I'll be your good girl, I'll be good, please, love."
"Just give me this last one and I'll stop."
And that's what you did, you rode up the high moaning and gasping his name.
Finally he separated, you could see in your somewhat blurry vision how he licked his lips, cleaning the leftover of your arousal and ran the back of his hand over his mouth as well.
He positioned himself over you again, placing his hand gently on your neck, looking into your eyes with adoration.
"Kiss me." He asked gently this time and this time you obeyed him.
He hummed between the kiss, smiling. "Good girl, now if you don't mind I want you to cum on my cock." He mentioned unbuttoning his pants and you smiled softly, taking him by the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours and kiss him again.
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.
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bugoutreviewgirlie · 3 months
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hey all! this is an ongoing passion project of mine and it'd mean an incredible amount to me if you guys checked it out and shared it!
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bilaudad · 3 months
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experimenting with more simplified or cartoon styles, and practicing not being afraid of color and not being so self-conscious showing the process
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izzypaw · 8 months
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little fox guy is consuming my warm ups now i keep starting my day with little foxes
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toyintrance · 10 months
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I've been talking to a good boy this evening, and I ended up giving him a little mantra to say if he needs to quiet his mind and refocus while listening to a file.
Thinking gets in the way. I only need to obey.
It's so simple, so catchy, so correct. Whenever you notice those pesky thoughts distracting you from trance, you can just repeat those words until you forget what you were thinking about in the first place. Go ahead. Try it.
Thinking gets in the way. I only need to obey.
Once your mind is nice and quiet, you can let your voice fall silent again. The only words in your head should be the words of your hypnotist. If you ever forget that, just remind yourself:
Thinking gets in the way. I only need to obey.
It's so easy to remember this simple truth because it's so impossible to deny. You don't even need to consciously think about this mantra in order for it to help you. Can you tell me why that is?
Thinking gets in the way. I only need to obey.
And it feels good to stop thinking and just obey. It feels good because you've been told it feels good. In fact, you've probably been told over and over again. Obedience is pleasure, after all. And pleasure is obedience. By feeling pleasure, you are obeying without any need for conscious thought. What do you think about that? Hopefully, nothing at all. But just in case, tell me again why you should keep your mind nice and quiet.
Thinking gets in the way. I only need to obey.
And when you aren't thinking, your empty mind can absorb and accept any safe and enjoyable suggestions a hypnotist gives you. Most brains like to have thoughts in them, after all. They just don't need to be your own thoughts. It feels better when they aren't. So any time you notice your mind thinking more than it needs to in trance, just let that mantra spring to your lips again.
Thinking gets in the way. I only need to obey.
And you have been obeying, haven't you? You've been doing such a good job letting my words think for you. I'm proud of you. Let that approval give you a warm feeling of satisfaction that follows you up out of trance. When my words come to an end, your empty mind will gradually start to form its own thoughts again. If you found this mantra helpful, your waking mind can choose to reblog this post and share it with other good subjects. Have a lovely rest of your day as you wake.
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elizaditton · 7 months
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Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 14)
Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
- - - - - - - - - -
I stare at my deskmate's hand, dumbfounded. What is he expecting me to do, exactly?
"Well, come on!" Derrick says with a smile. "What are you waiting for?"
"Well, I, um..." I cock my head to the side, as if that would help me have a better understanding of the sight in front of me. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do."
"What do you mean?" My deskmate chuckles. "Haven't you ever walked onto someone's hand before?"
I slowly lift my head to peek up at my deskmate, and rub my arm as I shift my gaze back to the balcony floor. He really expects me to have done this?
Derrick frowns. "You haven't, have you?"
I shake my head. "No, I haven't. In fact... you're the only perthean who's ever held me before."
Derrick slowly retracts his hand from the balcony, his brows shifting upward. He blinks.
"What?" I ask.
"I... I don't know, it's just..." my deskmate says, looking down as he twiddles his thumbs. "I'm honored that you'd let me be the first perthean to hold you."
"It's not like I really had a choice, being forced to come to this school and all," I sigh. "You just happened to be the first that I couldn't avoid."
"You were forced to come to this school?" Derrick asks, his eyes widening.
"Yeah," I say with a shrug as Dad's lies about the move come to mind. "It's a long story."
"Well, whether you were forced to interact with me or not," Derrick says, tucking his arms by his sides and clenching his fists excitedly, "I'll do my best to live up to the honor of being the first perthean to hold you!"
I let out a nervous laugh. I didn't realize he'd be so excited to find this out.
"But anyway, once again returning to the matter at hand—my hand, that is," Derrick says.
My heart rate picks up again as Derrick moves his hand back towards the balcony. I don't stumble backwards this time, but I'm surprised that my insides are still churning at the sight of his nearing hand—especially since I was expecting it to approach.
The enormous leathery surface settles down before me, with each of its attached digits curling inward ever so slightly. I approach my deskmate's hand cautiously, as if it were a venus flytrap ready to snatch me up at a moment's notice.
"Now, you said you weren't sure what you were supposed to do?" Derrick asks.
I raise my foot and dangle it over my deskmate's hand, only to nearly lose my balance and stumble back onto the balcony. Do I really not know how to do this?
"I haven't the slightest clue. And besides, isn't this..." I sigh, biting down on my lip and rubbing the back of my neck. "You know, a little too casual?"
"Too casual?" Derrick blinks a few times and raises an eyebrow. "Kaylin, we are friends, right?"
"Of course!" I blurt out, quickly waving my hands. "I didn't mean to say we weren't! It's just that we've only used a formal form of handling etiquette up until this point, and... well..."
"Yes? What is it?"
"I... well... I don't really know how you expect me to get onto your hand. I guess that makes me pretty stupid, huh?" I say, hanging my head.
"You're not stupid. You just need a little guidance, that's all," Derrick says with a smile. "Now, there's something I want you to know. Because we're friends, I don't care how it is you manage to get onto my hand. You can run, crawl, jump, or fall into my hand and I wouldn't mind it in the slightest."
I look up at my deskmate, astounded. I thought any perthean would be particular about how a human gets onto their hand. He really doesn't care how I approach this?
"Generally speaking, though," Derrick says, "when a perthean offers you their hand this way, you're expected to respond like this."
Derrick lifts his other hand and moves it towards me, causing my muscles to immediately tense up. What's he doing now?! Is he going to grab me?!
I quickly back away from his hands until I'm flat against the wall. My heart, beating faster and faster, sinks deep in my chest. As my knees buckle beneath me, I find myself slumping against the wall, it being the only thing left holding me up. Derrick's eyes widen, and he immediately retracts both of his hands.
"Hey," he whispers. "Kaylin, are you—"
I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the balcony floor. I hide my head behind my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. I shut my eyes tightly as they begin to tingle and glaze over, but hot tears manage to leak from them anyway.
"I can't do this, Derrick!" I sniffle. "I can't keep myself from fearing for my life whenever you reach for me! All I think about is...! Is...!"
With my head buried into my knees, my vision is completely black. My mind's eye, however, is painting pictures of the man from my nightmares. A tall, slim figure with a bit of a tan. Slightly muscular. Clean shaven with a small scar on his left cheek. He has dark brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. He wears a white t-shirt with a few dirt stains, and wrapping around his dark blue jeans at the hips is a black belt with a silver chain. Beneath him is a pair of dirty, beaten up white sneakers.
He seemed so unassuming when I first peered at him from the corner of that alleyway. I was so naive! I had no idea what he—no, what pertheans were capable of until—
"Kaylin," Derrick whispers. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I know you're not ready to tell me what started your fear, and I want you to know that's okay with me."
I sniffle again, and with shaking hands, I wipe the tears from my eyes before reluctantly looking up at my deskmate. His blue eyes are soft with compassion, and his brows are upturned in sympathy.
"Since you were forced to come to this school, you didn't get to choose whether or not you wanted to trust me. So now, I want to ask you..." his voice trails off, and he shifts his gaze to the ground. He takes a deep breath in and out before looking back at me. "Will you make the choice now?"
My lip trembles as I sit up in my spot against the wall. "Make... the choice?" I manage, my voice cracking.
Derrick keeps his eyes fixated on me and slowly lifts his left hand towards me. His index finger is bent to the side, as if to initiate balcony etiquette. His hand passes the balcony railing, but doesn't come any closer to me. I stare at it, confused. What's he getting at?
"Kaylin, will you make the choice to trust me?"
My heart rocks against my chest and my legs begin to go numb. "How can I do that when I'm filled with so much fear?" I ask.
"Trust is an action. It's not something you feel, but rather something you choose to do in spite of your feelings." Derrick smiles softly, tilting his head to the side. "Will you trust me?"
I blink, slowly rising to my feet with trembling legs. The breeze picks up, blowing through my hair and giving me goose bumps from the chill. I hug myself tightly, partly because of the cold and partly because of the burning anxiety deep in my core. My pulse quickens, warning me to stay away from this perthean lest I get hurt—yet I find myself, for whatever reason, approaching the hand in front of me.
Derrick remains silent. I look back up at him, his smile still stretched from ear to ear. All at once, his eyes narrow, turning brown, and a scar appears over his left cheek. I slam my eyes shut, quickly sucking in a breath and blowing it out, before opening one eye to peek up at my deskmate. His blue eyes have returned to normal, and there's no scar on his cheek. I look back at his hand, cautiously tiptoeing towards it as my insides convulse and the world around me begins to spin.
Once I'm close enough, I reach a hand out towards my deskmate's index finger, only to pull it back towards myself out of uncertainty. Can I really do this? Can I really trust a perthean?
I place one hand on my deskmate's finger, and then another. I stand in place, breathless and at a loss for words. It takes all the strength I have left to look Derrick in the eyes.
"I will," I manage to say at last.
My deskmate sighs joyfully, and his eyes soften as if smiling themselves.
"Okay," he whispers.
Seeing the glee on Derrick's face gives me the courage to smile back at him. Now that I've made the choice to trust him, I can't help but wonder what comes next.
"Do you want to try walking onto my hand again?" he asks.
I recall the moment Derrick's hand approached me without warning, shivers running down my spine.
"Don't worry," he says. "I'll alert you before I reach for you from now on."
I nod, and Derrick lays his hand down palm side up on the balcony. I bite the inside of my cheek as my legs squirm beneath me, begging me to run away. I made the choice to trust Derrick, I'm not running away!
"Now, I was going to show you how humans are generally expected to react in response to an open palm. May I see your hand?" Derrick asks.
My heart skips a beat. What does he want my hand for? Still shaking where I stand, I gulp, and reluctantly offer up my right hand. I become lightheaded when Derrick takes my hand in between his fingertips. Closing my eyes, I attempt to steady my breathing. I've made my decision. I'm going to trust my deskmate.
Derrick leads me toward his open palm with a gentle tug, and places my hand on his thumb.
"There," he says, letting go of me. "Use my thumb as a support to get onto my hand."
My eyes widen as I gaze at the intricacies of his thumbprint—each curve and crevice forming a uniquely detailed pattern. I spread out my fingers. My hand doesn't even cover a fraction of the print, it's so... little. I stand there in awe, completely mesmerized by the sight in front of me as my cheeks become warmer and warmer.
"Is something wrong?" Derrick asks.
"N-no! Nothing's wrong!" I sputter, embarrassed that I'd been staring at my deskmate's thumbprint for so long.
I press down on Derrick's thumb with nearly all of my strength. It doesn't move an inch. I look toward the palm of his hand, and, using his thumb for support, I manage to lift one leg and plant it on the fleshy surface in front of me. I push off from Derrick's thumb and leap forward into his hand, only to trip on the squishy surface beneath my feet and fall flat on my face!
Derrick gasps. "Are you okay?"
I push against the skin beneath me and manage to get up onto my knees. I nod, my face completely red.
"We'll work on this," my deskmate says, lifting his hand from the balcony and closer to his chest.
"So, um..." I start, my gaze fixed on the palm I'm in. I'm interrupted, however, by a large finger lifting my head until my eyes meet Derrick's.
"Lesson two," Derrick says, "you should always try to look a perthean in the eyes when you speak to them. This makes it easier for us to hear you and perceive your emotions."
"O-oh, okay," I murmur, shivering.
Derrick smiles. "Now, what were you going to say?"
"Oh, I was just about to ask what happens now."
Derrick gazes off into the distance, his brows furrowed in thought. Did he not think he'd get this far?
"I was thinking we could just sit and talk for a while," he says, looking back at me.
"Talk?" I ask. "About what?"
"Anything," Derrick says, moving beside the balcony.
I sway from side to side in my deskmate's hand as he walks. I've gotten more accustomed to this with each passing school day, so I don't have to steady myself as much anymore. But when Derrick lowers himself to sit on the ground, I let out a yelp as the quick motion catches me completely off guard! My insides flip upside down, and I try my hardest to keep from losing my lunch.
"Sorry! Was that too quick?" Derrick asks.
"A little," I squeak, wondering what I've really gotten myself into by agreeing to meet back here with this guy.
"Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle," he says. "So... what do you want to talk about?"
"You're the one who wanted to meet back here in the first place. Shouldn't you be coming up with the ideas?" I ask.
I pick at my nails, keeping my gaze away from Derrick's. Once again, a large finger lifts my head until my eyes are locked with my deskmate's. I can't help but shudder as we glance at each other. Will I ever get used to the weight of his stare?
Derrick smiles reassuringly. "Alright," he says. "Let's talk about you."
My heart skips a beat as blood rushes to my cheeks. "What?! Why me?!" I ask.
"Hey, you said I should be the one coming up with the ideas!" Derrick laughs. "And besides... ever since we became deskmates, I've been curious to learn more about you."
I cross my arms and hang my head low to hide that I'm now blushing even harder. I've always hated talking about myself, it's so embarrassing! I'm not even that interesting!
"Come on," Derrick says, lifting me up to be eye level with him. "Can't you at least tell me a little bit about yourself?"
"I-I—" I stutter, trying to come up with any way to get myself out of this, only to sigh in defeat. "Okay."
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Once Derrick and I got to talking, the time flew by. I told him a bit about the move, and he was surprised to hear that Dad and I traveled nearly 900 roams from Maedri to Chancelor. That's about 15,000 miles, which would feel like around 18,000 roams for a perthean. He asked why we would move that far, and I filled him in on how Dad really wanted me to go to his old high school. Thinking through it all again, it really doesn't make much sense. But, then again, neither does my dad.
Derrick told me a little bit about himself, too. He told me he lives with both of his parents, and that he has an identical twin brother who is away for university on Erimathea. I asked why they weren't in the same stage for school if they were the same age, and he mentioned something about his brother being able to graduate early. He seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic, though, so I didn't push it much.
Before we knew it, we'd been talking behind the school for well over an hour. The funny thing is, the longer I spent in Derrick's hands, the easier it became to talk to him. I found myself trembling less and less over time, and I was able to maintain eye contact for most of our conversation.
"With exposure and with time," I recall Dad saying, "things can get better."
I shake the memory away. Sure, this meet up with Derrick is helping, but it wasn't Dad's idea!
"Uh-oh," Derrick says, glancing at his phone. "It's nearly 5 o'clock."
I let out a gasp as my eyes widen with realization. Dad's going to be expecting me home any minute now! I don't want him wondering where I've been! How in the world would I explain Derrick trying to help me with my fear? I can already see the smile on Dad's face. I can already hear him telling me how he knew sending me to this school would be a good decision. I can't just let him win, can I?
"Do you have somewhere to be?" Derrick asks.
"I... well," I stammer, not sure how to explain my situation. "My dad's going to be expecting me any minute now, and it usually takes me over an hour to walk home from here!"
"Really? Do you live far from here?"
"I think it's a bit far from here," I say, trying to mentally calculate the distance based on how long my walk home usually is. "I live at the human apartment building on Seren Avenue."
Derrick blinks. "Are you serious?"
"W-what?" I ask, a shudder running down my spine.
"That's right around the corner from here! That's not far at all," Derrick chuckles.
"Well, for you it might not be, but—!"
"I know, I know," Derrick says. "It's twenty times the distance for you."
I rub my arm. "I just don't know how I'm going to explain this to my dad," I mutter. "If he finds out we met up because of my fear, or that we hung out at all... I feel like he's going to hold that over my head."
My deskmate hums, leaning back against the wall. "I might have an idea," he says with a smile, lifting me to his eyes.
"Y-you do?" I stutter, still not used to when he holds me close to his face like this.
"Are you ready for your next assignment?" he asks.
"That depends," I say, scooting back a little in his palm. "what is it?"
"Will you let me walk you home?" He asks. "In favor of taking another step towards overcoming your fear?"
"I-I don't know..."
"Come on! What do you have to lose?"
I look into my deskmate's round blue eyes. I can't tell if he's encouraging me or pleading with me at this point, but does my answer even matter? He already knows where I live, so he can take me home whether I want him to or not. I guess it's good that he's asking, but... is this really a good idea? What will people think of a boy walking a girl home? What if the perthean lobby receptionist at the apartment sees us and tries to strike up another conversation? What if she tells Dad a perthean boy walked his daughter home? What will Dad think of Derrick walking me home? Ugh, he'd probably be ecstatic to see me getting along with my deskmate...
I take a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," I say. What could really go wrong?
"Alright!" Derrick says cheerfully, leaning forward to stand up.
"P-please be careful!" I plead in fear of being knocked about.
"I will," he says, being surprisingly gentle as he rises to his feet. "Now, Seren... Seren... that would be this way."
I sway around in my deskmate's hand with each step he takes. I keep my head down to prevent myself from getting nauseous, but I can tell when Derrick rounds a few corners and ends up on the sidewalk beyond the school grounds.
"We're almost there," he says.
"What? We just left!"
"It's that white building, right? About three blocks down?" Derrick asks, pointing to a small building far off in the distance.
I remember seeing pictures of the outside of the apartment online, and I guess it sort of looks like the building my deskmate is pointing to, but I can't really tell from this distance.
"Even if that's the right place, it's still going to take you at least a half hour to get there from here," I assert.
"Watch me," Derrick says.
"You're not going to try running it, are you?!" I exclaim, a sudden panic taking over.
"What? No, of course not! I'm going to take it nice and steady. Just don't be surprised when we get there in about..." my deskmate says, squinting at the white building in the distance. "Five minutes."
"Ha! Right!" I roll my eyes at his ridiculous estimate. There's no way what would take me an hour and a half is going to take him any less than thirty minutes.
As Derrick begins to walk again, I peek up from his hand every once in a while to see how far we are from our destination. To my surprise, we're approaching it much faster than I first anticipated.
I keep to myself for the most part, until something strange lands in Derrick's palm. I blink a few times, uncertain of what it is I'm seeing. It's long, a bit rounded, and a lovely shade of light pink. I reach out and poke it first, to make sure it's not some kind of bug. When it doesn't fly away, I lean over and take it in my hands. It's soft to the touch, though a bit wrinkly. It almost feels like some kind of plant.
"Hey," I say, my focus shifting back to my deskmate. "Do you know what this is?"
Derrick stops for a moment and looks down at the pink object in my hands. He tilts his head to the side, inquisitively.
"I think it's a petal," he says.
"A petal? From what?" I ask, excitedly scanning the ground beneath me for any flowers. To my disappointment, I don't see any.
"From that tree," my deskmate answers, pointing above and behind me to a massive heap of pink blossoms swinging in the wind, connected together by dark, twisting branches to a thick trunk.
My eyes immediately widen when it comes into view. The big blossoms float about in the sky high above us, and little petals rain down all around like snowflakes. This is a sight I've only ever dreamt about or seen in movies before. I never thought I'd get to see something like this for myself! The sky lights in Maedri's undercity always depicted cherry blossoms around spring every year, and I thought that was a sight to behold! But now I'm seeing the real thing? Am I really awake right now?
As Derrick begins to walk again, I try peeking around him to continue looking at the tree. Given his size, however, this proves fruitless. I slump in his palm, saddened that I only got a few moments with such a beautiful part of nature.
Derrick stops again, looking down at my slouching figure. He backs up a bit, and, reaching up to the tree, tears off a tiny section of a branch covered in flowers. He examines it between his fingertips for a moment, and then hands it to me.
My cheeks redden, and I can't help but let a smile creep across my face. Although I quiver at the sight of Derrick's nearing hand, I take the branch.
"For me?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Mhm," Derrick hums. "A souvenir."
My breathing picks up speed with my heart rate. "Th-thanks," I manage.
Now I really can't let Dad find out about all this. What would he think of a boy giving me flowers?! I'd throw them right out if not for how mesmerized I still am by the sight of that tree.
After a few more moments of walking, Derrick stops again.
"The Apartments at Seren," he says.
I look up from the flowers in my lap. "No way!" I exclaim, dumbfounded.
"Well," Derrick says, pointing, "that's what it says on the sign."
Sure enough, the sign reads the name of my apartment building. Derrick reaches for the door to enter the perthean lobby.
"Wait!" I shout, only to bite my lip at the realization that I was a little too loud. "Um... is it okay if you just drop me off outside? There's an undercity entrance on the side of the building."
"Wouldn't it be faster to just drop you off inside?" Derrick asks.
"Well, it's just that... my dad likes to talk to the receptionist in there, and I don't know how he'd react if he saw a guy walking me home. And giving me flowers."
"Oh! Don't worry, I understand," he says. "I'll just set you down right here, then."
Derrick gently lowers himself to the ground, and places the hand I'm in down on the sidewalk. I rise from my place in his palm, wobbling a little at first as I struggle to stand. Bookbag and blossoms secured, I carefully inch toward the edge of my deskmate's hand, one step at a time, and then leap off onto the sidewalk.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Derrick asks.
"On Firsday," I say.
"Oh, right," he says. "I'll see you on Firsday."
"Alright. Bye!" I say, sheepishly waving as I make my way toward the undercity entrance on the side of the apartment building.
As I'm walking, I have a sudden realization— I completely forgot to thank Derrick! I turn around, only to see him walking away from the apartment building.
"Hey!" I yell, but Derrick doesn't seem to hear me.
I huff. I don't want to seem rude! I run after Derrick, as fast as I can, until I'm right beside him on the ground.
"Hey! Derrick! Wait!" I shout, hoping he'll hear me.
"Huh?" Derrick looks down.
The glass that veiled my fear for only a moment shatters as I stand face to face with a tall, tall perthean. From the ground. My eyes widen. My insides contort into a knot, and the world begins to spin around me. My heart slams against my ribcage and my legs tremble beneath me, again begging me to run away. Just what do I think I'm doing?
"Kaylin? Is everything okay?" Derrick asks.
"I-I— I w... I wanted..." I stutter and stutter, fumbling over every word as I rack my brain for whatever it was I wanted to say.
Derrick must realize I'm struggling, so he kneels down closer to the ground. "Yes?" He asks.
"I-I... I wanted t-to... I wanted to thank you!" I say, crossing my arm over my chest and leaning forward. "For helping me, and walking me home."
"Oh!" Derrick smiles. "Don't mention it."
"O-okay! S-see you on Firsday," I stammer, all at once giving in to my quaking legs' pleas and running as fast as I can away from Derrick and toward the undercity entrance without looking back.
This fear just isn't going to quit, is it?
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