Best posts made by littlest-lily

Chapter 27
Aiden

“Can you hold this part together?”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, perfect! Okay, don’t move.”

I hold very still, bracing the heel of my hand against the surface of the table as I pinch two long pieces of balsa wood together at a perpendicular angle. Evie picks up one of her makeshift nails, the short end of a staple that she’s somehow broken off. She selects one of her tiny tools, one that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, a little hammer of some kind. The handle is clearly a piece of toothpick, like with most of her tools, but the head isn’t made of any material that I’ve given her.

“Is that the stuff Moira brought over?” I ask, wanting to lean in to get a closer look but afraid my hand will shift if I move.

“Yup! A rubber polymer clay, apparently,” she says, lining the staple up just so. “It works really well, watch.”

And sure enough, using what’s probably more akin to a rubber mallet, she easily hammers her “nail” into the soft wood within seconds. She does this a couple more times along the edge of the plank and then says, “Alright, you can let go now.”

I do so, carefully pulling my hand away from the wide L-shaped structure that now stands up on its own. “Eyy, look at that!” I can finally lean in to get a better look, so impressed with all the miniature tools Evie’s been able to cobble together out of the simplest of materials.

“It’s not much,” she sighs, though she’s crossing her arms with some satisfaction. “Got a long way to go before making furniture. I still wonder if I’d be better off using glue, but I’d definitely want some PPE before I go there. Oh, speaking of which!"

She hurries over to one of the dollhouse shelves she uses to store her clothes and picks up a new garment. It’s made of a super fine yarn, although in her hands the blue thread looks a lot chunkier. As she walks back over she pulls it onto her head with a grin - it’s some kind of beanie-looking hat. She looks like she’s ready to go on a magical winter adventure.

So. Freaking. Precious.

“Did you knit that?” I marvel, and without thinking I reach out and gently touch it, giving her head a little pet.

“Crochet,” she responds, leaning into my touch proudly. “Only needed to carve one hook that way, and I used to crochet stuff as a teenager so it was easier to re-learn.” I pull my hand away and she readjusts the hat, tucking a strand of hair to the side. “This is just a practice project. But it’s the first step to getting some work gloves!”

You’re amazing, I almost say. But I know if I said it out loud it would have come out too intense.

Evie strikes a couple of poses like a fashion model and adds, “Think I look like Mrs. Peacock?”

I beam at her. “Is that the first one you want to play tonight?”

“Yeah, I love Clue!”

“Okay then - I’ll be right back.”

I actually need the breather I get during the quick trip to my bedroom closet. Seeing her looking so adorable in her teeny tiny hat has left my heart aching. A very different body part is starting to ache too, but as usual whenever I have to sneak off like this, I’m able to take a few deep breaths and calm back down. I reach up to the high shelf to carefully slide off the entire stack of board games I own, unsure of how many we’ll get through tonight, and I bring them back to the living room.

I’m a little disappointed that Evie took the beanie off, though she’s just as much of a cutie as her normal self. She’s currently on her notepad and busy writing something in the corner.

“What’s that?” I ask, setting the pile of games down on the floor.

“I’m making my own version of the notepad from the game.” She sits upright on her knees, looking down at her list and frowning. “I’m forgetting a weapon.”

I fish Clue out of the stack and bring it up onto the desk, sitting down and looking over Evie’s shoulder. I lean in and squint at the tiny lead marks on the page.

“Yeaaah, I can’t read that,” I say with a chuckle.

“Good, I won’t need to worry about hiding it then. Oh right, the candlestick!” She hunches back over to continue writing.

Even though the little camp on the desk barely takes up half of its surface, it still doesn’t leave us a ton of space for the game box and board, so I’m very careful as I start unpacking everything. “I’ve never played with only two players, is that even possible?” I wonder aloud.

“Yes, there’s a special way to do it - I’ll show you once everything’s shuffled…”

We set the game up together, and I’m grateful for her explanation of the rules since it’s been a while and I need a refresher. Evie drags over the wooden tray we’ve just built to lean her cards against so that I won’t be able to see them. The plain colored pawns are about half her height, and she shouldn’t have too much issue with carrying the plastic weapons and throwing the dice. It might still be quite a workout for her to play, so I’m already prepared to help move things around for her if she looks tired.

“Lynne and I would play this as kids,” Evie reminisces, “She had a really cool set that had proper minis for the pawns. I don’t know if they even make them that way normally.”

“That’s always nice when a game company puts in that level of attention to detail,” I say. I deal out the cards, placing hers face down in front of her, and she begins transferring them to the tray.

I’m suddenly struck with a thought.

“Evie.” I’m trying to contain my enthusiasm, wondering if she would even go for this. “Have you ever considered painting minis? Like, to sell?”

Her eyes slowly widen. Of course she’s just as familiar with this stuff as I am, probably more so. Whether it’s for playing tabletop RPGs or just to display, there’s a whole market for finely detailed figurines. “Aiden, you’re a genius. That’s so much easier than building dollhouse miniatures. And people actually spend money on that stuff.”

“I know! The demand is there and you’d be so good at it right now. I know it’s not quite woodworking…”

“That’s okay, it can be a stretch goal! If I can start selling minis maybe that’ll help fund some better tools for the rest… Oh my god, I’m so excited. I know what I’ll be doing tomorrow, there’s so much to plan and research. Dude, thank you!”

I feel like a straight up superhero right now. She looks so hyped that I almost suggest we put our game night on hold so that she can start planning this stuff. But if anything she seems even more keen on playing in some kind of celebratory gesture, so we finally jump into it.

Watching Evie running around all over the board is just as adorable as I thought it’d be. Even her holding the fake weapons, like a pistol that looks more like a shotgun to her, is somehow the cutest thing. We get really into it, and despite the adapted 2-player rules we have a decent sense of what the other person is figuring out about the details of the fake murder.

At the end it becomes a race to make the final accusation as we both clearly have figured out the scene of the crime. I roll too low to make it to the room so Evie gets there first.

“I accuse…” she says, a little out of breath from moving the pawn so far, “Colonel Mustard… in the ballroom… with the lead pipe.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, gesturing towards the case file envelope so she can see if she’s right. She pries it open, practically crawling inside so that she can drag the cards out, and peers underneath them at the answer.

“Noooooo!” she cries out dramatically, falling to her knees and hanging her head.

I grin and pick up what I now know is the correct murder weapon, placing it right next to her. “It was the knife, wasn’t it?”

“My hubris!” she exclaims, continuing the theatrics by splaying herself onto her back, although we’re both laughing at this point. “It was a 50-50 shot.”

“It was a team effort,” I suggest, leaning forward to look straight down at her from above.

“Don’t patronize me,” she growls, crossing her arms and smirking. “You win this one. Enjoy it before I kick your butt at checkers.”

“You’re on.”

We start cleaning up, gathering the cards and pawns. I don’t even see my mistake when it happens. My eyes are looking for where the die went as I lift up the completed card deck… and I feel one of my fingers collide against something, hitting sharply against the nail. My attention is jerked back towards Evie, who is now sprawled onto her back again, this time not of her own accord. Her eyes are wide with shock.

“Crap,” I say breathlessly, my heart suddenly racing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… um…” she says, and with some difficulty she pushes herself to sitting while raising a hand up to her ear.

“Did I just hit you in the head?” I’ve pushed my chair back now, kneeling onto the floor by the desk. Trying to keep from panicking.

She looks a little startled by my reaction and forces a smile. “I’m fine. It’s okay. That was totally my bad, I stepped towards you without paying attention.”

“I’m the one who should have been paying attention!” I say shakily, having trouble not raising my voice. “Can you see okay? Are you nauseous?”

“I don’t have a concussion, Aiden,” she laughs, but she pulls her hand away and I hate how red her ear looks. “It wasn’t nearly hard enough for that. I’m a bit… woozy? But I’ve had way worse before, it’s no worse than stubbing a toe or something.”

I can’t help it. Even though my own hands are at fault I use them now to gently gather her up between them. I sit back on my heels, bringing Evie in closer, examining every inch of her - all three of them. She lays on her back in my hand and I just pray that the sweet smile she’s giving me is truly genuine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“You’re fine,” she insists. “I’m actually shocked this is the first time something like this has happened.”

“And the last,” I say firmly.

“Sounds good.” She rolls onto her side now, settling into the dip of my palm and letting her eyes droop to a close. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be back to normal… Or maybe I should just take a nap. You’re so comfy.”

I don’t know what to say so I sit in silence, watching her intently. It feels like my mind is splitting as too many thoughts rush in.

How could I do this to her?
Is it a bad sign if she falls asleep?
My phone’s on the couch in case this gets dire.
You piece of shit, Aiden.
What if she actually hates me?
Maybe I should get her some water.
Did she just call me comfy?

“Relax,” Evie murmurs, and despite how small her voice is it makes me flinch. Her eyes are still closed. “I promise I’m alright.”

“I… I know…” I say, unconvinced.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“R-right…”

I should probably put her down, but I can’t stand the thought of it right now. I manage to take a deep breath in and slowly turn around so that I can brace my arms against the couch as I continue sitting on the floor. I stare at the flushed color of her miniscule ear, and I’m so full of self loathing I could implode. God, and here I was just telling her to be careful when she was on her bathroom roof the other day. Turns out I’m the only menace here.

Evie’s voice pipes up again. “I accuse… Aiden Jasper… in the living room… with his pinkie nail…”

She successfully drags a feeble laugh out of me. I appreciate her showing me she’s still conscious despite keeping her eyes closed. She does sound okay…

Once I’m convinced that I’m not trembling so much, I cautiously slip my free hand over her delicate frame. I’m not exactly sure what my goal is here, but she immediately reacts to my touch, snuggling into my fingers like they’re a blanket.

“Oh yeah, that’s the stuff,” she purrs.

I don’t even know if this is wholesome or sinister. I’m trying to comfort her, but I’m also taking advantage of the situation, aren’t I? And she’s letting me take advantage. She’s… encouraging it…

Evie keeps talking softly, helping me stay in the present. “Oh, I forgot to ask - is it okay if I go shopping with Moira on Thursday? It’ll just be in the area, no car or anything. I should actually be back before you get home.”

I frown. “Yeah, of course. You don’t need to ask for permission… That’s why she has a key.”

“Sure. I still want to keep you in the loop.”

We continue talking quietly for a while, her voice gradually regaining strength. Soon her eyes are open again, and my nerves settle, and our chat becomes truly casual. Except for the fact that my hands are still all over her. I never want it to end.

@Olo So having the girl “deserve it” is actually not a trope I personally enjoy. Even as a kid, if a bad guy who did the shrinking got shrunk themselves in the end and justice was served, I didn’t like it that much. I think it’s because it makes it harder for me to self insert/empathize with the tiny. Not that I think I’m totally flawless or anything lol, but I don’t think I’m deserving of getting shrunken down against my will. And nah, even in my imagination I don’t have any interest in being “bad” and deserving of punishment. I suppose I just prefer the idea of the shrinkee being an innocent victim (or it’s a happy consensual thing).

I’m curious to know how other tiny ladies feel though

@SmolChlo So true It’s the one kind of overstimulation I crave…

@Aborigen Hey, thanks so much for the representation! Also that was fun to fill out, I’m curious to see what other people write

Chapter 28
Evie

With some effort, I get up onto my tiptoes so that I can see over the edge of a slender hand. It’s a bit of a struggle to keep my footing in here. Moira has stuffed her purse with empty water bottles and topped it off with some soft cloth, so that I can hitch a ride without getting completely lost in her bag. I don’t actually verbalize this, but I think I do prefer being in a shirt pocket than this. Maybe that’s only if it was Aiden, though… In any case, I’m plenty comfortable, just a bit unsteady in this wider space.

“Maybe something cooking related?” Mo whispers down to me, pointing at a store window. “Since you guys spend time in the kitchen together?”

“Good idea! I’m not sure he really needs anything like that, but… Still, mind if we go inside?”

“Not at all!”

We’ve been at it for a good half hour now. The outing itself is nice, but I’m also on a very important mission. We’re nearing the end of April and Aiden’s birthday is on May 5th. Even though I hardly have anything left in my bank account, I want to do something for it, and with Moira’s help I can actually get him some kind of gift.

The retail strip we’re exploring is just on the west side of campus, so most of it consists of places to eat for college students to grab between classes. But there’s a little convenience store, some apparel ones, a place for office supplies, and - randomly enough - this kitchen shop.

It’s still late morning so we’re not quite dealing with the lunch rush, but there are enough people walking around that I do feel a bit nervous. With Moira being so short and with me being in a more open space, I keep getting scared that someone will see me in her bag. My friend quickly noticed my discomfort and has zipped her purse up most of the way so that I can duck down into the darkness whenever I get too worried.

The ding of the door opening startles me, and I slip out of sight as a too-eager employee greets Moira and offers her assistance. After some heavy insistence that she’s just browsing, we’re finally left to our own devices in exploring the near-empty shop. It’s actually kind of fun to look at all of the cookware and appliances, although the vast majority of it is way out of my budget. I long for the days where I could have actually used all of these pots and pans and slow cookers and ice cream makers. I miss being able to make my own food from start to finish, and it’s nice to escape a little bit into this culinary world.

Some of it feels extra intimidating, though. There are some fancy knives on display that are as long as flag poles and give me swells of anxiety. Even the blenders and food processors have blades that look absolutely deadly to me. Thankfully we don’t linger on any of this since my larger friend seems to get that these sights might make me uneasy.

Glancing around to make sure we’re alone, I pipe up when we get to the stand mixers, pointing towards one that has a bread hook installed. I could easily fit right up in the curve of it. “How long do you think I could ride that hook before throwing up?” I stage whisper, grinning up at Moira.

She suppresses a laugh, and then she carefully lifts the bag I’m in a bit higher so I can see what’s on the next shelf up. There’s an electric citrus press, the kind where you push down with the orange on top and the entire thing spins. “How about this?” she mutters, “I bet if you sat on the edge here it might be a pleasant ride.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds nice! Until my inevitable doom approaches as the juice rises higher and higher…”

And now we’re both trying not to laugh at the visuals we’re conjuring up. Okay, this is fun and all, but I’m not seeing anything that could work well as a gift for Aiden. Maybe this store was a bust after all. There’s one last small display of non-perishable foods that we take a quick look through first.

“I’ve never taken him as a coffee guy…” Moira muses.

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him drink any. Alas.”

“Did you want to get some for yourself?” she suggests.

“That’s alright, it would take up too much space, plus it would take me a decade to finish a bag on my own… I don’t miss it that much."

My eyes scan the entire display, looking up at the novelty pasta shapes, all the way to the spices and seasonings. That’s when I finally get an idea. I remember something that my roommate mentioned to me once, a while back. I voice my musings to Moira and she loves the thought, offering to pick something up for me the next time she’s at the grocery store. And then we’re back outside, walking down the street as she talks excitedly.

“I don’t want to intrude at all on your gift,” she says, “but if you like I could make a container for you to put it in! I still needed to think of a present for him, so…”

“No, that would be perfect! I’ll need your help with the rest of the plans anyway, it can all be from the both of us.”

Our conversation is interrupted as she stops abruptly from a door opening and almost whacking into her. She rears back and I tumble, grabbing fistfuls of fabric as I slip along the side of the cloth-covered water bottle, only barely managing not to fall into the depths of the purse. Even as I’m furiously trying to climb back up to a more stable spot I’m also scuttling backwards, trying to make sure I’m out of sight.

Whoever was exiting the restaurant is apologizing profusely now, with Moira trying to reassure him that she’s fine. It’s through this exchange that I’m realizing how many other voices are passing by us. When did it get this crowded? I guess we’re getting closer to lunch time…

With her awkward conversation out of the way, I hear a whispered “Are you okay?” from above, but I’m too scared to answer. The zipper just over my head starts inching back and I can see shadows of the giants passing by like a towering herd on migration. Fearfully I just keep backing up, trying to stay under the part that’s zipped closed. In all of the commotion I’m beginning to feel panicked.

Thankfully, Moira stays much more level headed than I do. To my relief she doesn’t insist on trying to talk to me, instead reversing course with the zipper until the bag is mostly closed again and I can finally take a breath. Quick on her feet, she reaches into the outside pocket of her purse and pulls out her phone. It takes me a second, but I figure out her idea of having a pretend phone conversation so that she can speak to me openly.

“Hey, Evie! Yeah, I’m already here, it’s a lot more crowded than I thought it’d be.” She pauses briefly as the fake me silently responds. “I know, I was hoping we could eat outside or something, but I’m not sure it’ll work out. I live near campus, on the north side, would you be down for going back to my place?” Pause. “Alright, just think about it, and if you’re still okay with that sandwich place, text me your order and I’ll go grab it. See you soon!”

And then instead of putting the phone back in its usual spot, she slips it into the purse itself, slowly and carefully so as to not blindly knock into me. I notice she has a note-taking app open and ready for me to type in.

I smile and begin crawling over to the dim light of the phone so that I can write a message in response. I tell her that I’m happy to go back to her place instead, and that I’m fine with any kind of sandwich except for tuna salad. A minute later, Moira’s hand cautiously returns to retrieve the phone and our new plan goes into motion.

It takes another thirty minutes or so to go get the food and then make our way to my giant friend’s place. Once we exit the more crowded streets, she briefly ducks into an alley just to make sure I’m still alright with all this and to assure me that none of her roommates should be home. I’ve never been to her apartment, but I know she lives with three other girls, so I’m glad for the head’s up.

“Okay… we’re here… Sorry about all that,” Moira sighs as we get into her room. She sets the purse on her bed and reaches in for me, gently gathering me up so she can put me on her bedside table. She’s still a little hesitant and overly careful, but she’s gotten way better at handling me over the past couple of weeks.

“No worries!” I say as I climb off her fingers, “I used to go eat in that area all the time so I should have known better. Thank you for handling it so well, Mo. Sorry, I was kinda freaking out.”

I take a look around the room, marveling at the new location. Even from my perspective I can tell the area is a lot more limited than Aiden’s - there are two beds in this room and hardly enough space for a small desk that houses Mo’s computer and nothing else.

It’s cozy, though. There’s a boho vibe and so much stuff everywhere- paintings of flowers, an acoustic guitar hanging on the wall, a potted plant hanging in the corner in a macrame basket. I bet she did the macrame herself, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was yet another hobby of hers. Her roommate’s side of the room is so plain compared to this half that’s full of color.

“I love your space!” I exclaim eagerly.

“Thanks! Pardon the mess,” she laughs, and she reaches over to scoot aside a glass bottle containing a single flower that’s next to me, in order to give me some more room.

We enjoy lunch from our spots on the bed and the nightstand as we keep discussing our mutual friend’s upcoming birthday. I’ve already started prepping something for the day of, and it’s been a challenge to keep things a secret from Aiden with my life on full display. I’m really going to need Moira’s help to pull it all together.

“I just hope that gift will be enough…” I fret, picking at my sandwich like a squirrel.

“I’m sure he’ll love it! Especially since he’s probably not expecting anything from you. Even his other friends, we don’t usually do much to celebrate his birthday since the timing’s always awkward with their final exams.”

“All the more reason for me to do something nice,” I say with a sigh, hanging my head. “He’s just done so much for me… I know I can never repay him, but I wish I could better show how much I appreciate it. What gifts have you gotten him in the past?” I lift my head again hopefully.

Mo sets her sandwich down on the plate in her lap. She gazes down at the bedsheets for a second as she thinks. “Since we both read the same kinds of stuff, I’d usually get him a new book…”

It’s a little late for me to get into the fantasy novels that they both enjoy. That would probably feel a little forced anyway. After a long pause I ask, “Do you know about any past girlfriends of his?”

That came out a bit more awkwardly than I’d meant it to. Moira doesn’t answer right away but her big green eyes are fixed on me, a growing smile appearing on her face.

“What?” I ask self consciously.

“Nothing. Just wondering why you’re asking.”

“Because I’m curious what types of things they might have gotten for his birthday,” I insist, kicking myself for having gone down this path.

“Right, right. Um, I don’t think he’s dated since he was in undergrad. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since I’ve known him at least.”

“Gotcha…”

I stare at the floor of the nightstand, deep in thought. Seconds pass and when I look up again, Moira’s still watching me with a smile.

“What?” I ask with a nervous laugh.

“Nothing!”

“Clearly it’s not nothing?”

The smile grows wider. “I’m trying not to call you out on how red your face is right now.”

Crap. I hike my knees up as if to hide behind my legs, curling in on myself instinctively. My natural response is to immediately go on the defensive. “I-I… I don’t… We’re not like that.”

My friend’s voice is gentle, like she’s trying to lure a cat out of hiding. “I figured you weren’t. Not yet at least…?” She cocks her head to the side, trying to get a read on me. “Sorry, if I actually am completely off base, I’ll stop.”

“It…” I struggle to speak. But she’s been nothing but supportive and trustworthy, and it coaxes a response out of me that I wasn’t quite expecting. “It can’t be like that. You know?”

Moira frowns at my tone. “No. I don’t. Why can’t it be?”

I can feel my cheeks flushing further. I only barely manage to not bury my face into my knees. “Really? I mean… Be serious, Moira. Look at me.”

And she does. She sets her plate to the side of her cross-legged seat and leans in closer, settling her forearms into her lap as she lowers her head. “Let’s see here… I see someone who’s really sweet. Really fun to hang out with. Who’s as much of a nerd as the rest of us, which is bonus points. Super pretty. What’s not to like?”

I squirm at both the compliments and the refusal to acknowledge the obvious. “Just… I mean, logistically there’s just so much that couldn’t work…”

“I’d say you’ve figured logistics out pretty well so far.”

“That’s different. Moira, there’s no way he could see me as remotely attractive. It makes no sense.”

She frowns again. “You really don’t think he might find you cute?”

I let out an exasperated exhale. “I mean, he might think I’m cute the way he thinks a puppy’s cute. Seriously. How is anyone this small supposed to… to satisfy a man? It’s impossible.” This time I do bury my face into my knees, muffling my voice. “God, I’m embarrassed just thinking about it.”

After a moment I feel a soft pressure from Moira’s fingertips against my back. “I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t mean to stress you out. I just don’t want you to sabotage yourself when you’re not even sure where his mind’s at…” She pulls her hand away and delicately continues. “But I guess the more important question is, how do you feel about him?”

I lift my head just enough to look at her. I trust her to keep this conversation private, but still… what a monumental question. I’m not sure I’m ready to answer it.

“I don’t know…” I finally say, “I do like him a lot, but I don’t know if it’s in that way. Maybe.” I slowly uncurl myself again, matching Moira’s cross-legged stance instead. “But none of it matters anyway. I swore off of dating a long time ago. Not to mention, can you imagine how complicated things would get if this went poorly? I’m too… dependent on him. I really can’t afford for this to go badly.”

That last bit slipped out. As much as I hate to admit it, there’s a part of me that still sees my relationship with Aiden as transactional. That if I’m on my best behavior and do my utmost in helping out where I can, maybe I can somehow earn the shelter and care that I so desperately need from him. I don’t want that to take away from the friendship that has also formed, but that’s just my reality.

I feel a little dizzy as the what-ifs flood my brain, and I continue to confide in the gigantic girl before me. “I’m aware that my relationship with him is weird and it can’t go on forever like this. It’s just so overwhelming to think too far ahead…”

Moira’s sigh is sympathetic and she straightens back up. “Then don’t. Just enjoy what you have right now, see what comes. And listen… the both of you are good people, I’m sure you’ll work things out no matter what happens. But if anything were to go south, you’ve got me now too.” She glances towards the other bed that’s just a few feet away as she adds, “It might be a bit complicated with my roommates, but if you ever need some time away, even for a little bit, just say the word and we’ll figure something out.”

I manage a smile. To willingly reveal my existence to three more people doesn’t feel like an option. But the offer means more to me than she could ever know. “Thanks, girl. And I’m sorry to put you in the middle and make you keep secrets from him…”

“Oh, it’s fine. Hell, I was the one getting nosey.”

From that point I swiftly change the subject as I remember my exciting new business prospect of painting minis. Mo shares in the enthusiasm, eagerly offering to show me the ins and outs of online shopfronts and share tips from her own small business. We spend a lovely afternoon together. And all of my confusing feelings remain firmly out of mind.

@SmolChlo Seems reasonable to me! I would not being a fidget toy myself 🥰

@frollo Yeah I’m particularly bothered when people aren’t transparent about it (and pretend it’s their work, try to sell it, etc)

I don’t know how much I have to contribute, but my feelings around feet are complicated so I figured I’d just share them lol

I definitely don’t think I have an “IRL” foot fetish. I don’t generally mind them, and I find some more appealing to look at than others, but that’s about as far as it goes. Then again, like Chloe said, I think I’m far more adverse to the idea of admitting to a foot fetish than a size one, so maybe I’m subconsciously suppressing something for all I know.

In any case, it’s a very different story when it comes to sizey scenarios. Then I’m totally down for foot play! Part of it is the fact that I’m into almost any body part as long as it’s gigantic, but there is something extra about being down on the floor at his feet where I’m most vulnerable, or about being pinned under a single toe - there’s an extra layer of domination/humiliation/playfulness there that I enjoy a whole lot. I still vastly prefer handhelds, but I think I might actually like foot play over mouth play (not by much, but still).

But I do have mixed feelings about a lot of foot content. For one, I personally have zero interest in them being smelly/sweaty, I’m not into the gross factor in general, and that can be really hard to separate. I’ve even seen some foot fetishists say that it comes with the territory and you can’t have one without the other (I disagree, but a lot of the content still seems to revolve around that aspect).

And then the other downside I’ve found is that I haven’t always had the best experience with the people who are into it. I used to include a bit more foot content in stories, and I stopped doing that as much, in part because I felt like I was getting negative attention - those who commented on that part tended to just demand more and ONLY really cared about that (and I just assumed everyone else wasn’t really into it). I now suspect that my vision of things is skewed, because I’ve run into multiple people who like all kinds of things and yet it was only later on that I realized they liked the foot stuff as well, because they didn’t really talk about it at all (heck, I might put myself in that category). It’s enough of a taboo, even in these subcommunities, that maybe people either are all about it and go ALL in, or they opt not to mention it at all, even if they do like it. Maybe I’m totally off here, just speaking from my own experience!

Thank you for all the well wishes! The operation was a total success so I’m very happy about that. I’m still recovering and out of it from the drugs but it should hopefully be a pretty easy recovery. Yay! Now back to the drama lol

Chapter 36
Evie

What the hell is even happening? Am I the one who’s dreaming right now? I have no idea how I might have reacted to Aiden’s confession in different circumstances. I can relate with wanting your toys to come alive as a kid, sure, but I have no idea how that translates into anything remotely sexual. Is it a domination thing? Does he get a power trip every time he picks me up? Does he just get aroused by anything that’s tiny?

It’s a hard enough pill to swallow on a regular day. But in the midst of everything else, he might as well have told me that his rock collection was sentient.

I’ve never seen him act like this either. He looks just as freaked out as I am. More so, even. We’ve been through our fair share of adversity together, and I’ve seen him really stressed before, but not on this level. There’s too many pent up feelings there, combined with his disorientation after falling asleep, the vulnerability of revealing such private information, the stress and exhaustion of the past couple of weeks. It’s all resulting in a manic look in his eyes that’s setting me on edge.

“Wait,” he says adamantly in response to my question. “Hold on, please, listen to me. I did not do this to you on purpose. Okay?”

I shy away, suddenly feeling a lot more timid than I was a second ago. I don’t know what to think right now. Obviously Aiden’s nothing like the scientist who tricked me into shrinking. But at this point, intentionally or not, both of them were involved in ripping my size away, and now both of them have touched me in a violating manner due to me being small. Did they bond over this shit more than I realized? How am I supposed to take this? How is this not a betrayal on some level?

“I mean…” I say unsteadily, “You did do the–”

“I know I was involved,” he cuts in, moving closer, towering over me, “and… and no, you’re right, that part wasn’t a coincidence. I think Dr. Little figured out that I’m into it and that’s why he recruited me, with the hopes that I’d be on board with the messed up stuff he had planned. And yeah, I jumped at the opportunity to be involved with real-life shrinking… of course I did!” His hands are back on the ottoman, on either side of me, and I can’t back up much further. I’m starting to feel trapped.

“But I truly had no idea about the rest! I didn’t know about his plans, or that you’d be stuck small!” he insists, voice strained, “I hate that I took any part in it, I hate that you got fucked over like this. Evie, if I could, I’d restore you this very second. Just because I like this doesn’t– I mean…” He chokes on his words, regretting them immediately and struggling to explain them as his gaze drifts, “Just because I enjoy your… size…”

“Aiden,” I meekly try to interject, but he doesn’t hear me over the sound of his own labored breathing. His head suddenly drops down, making impact just ahead of me, and it’s enough to knock me off my feet. I’m facing his hair now as he presses his forehead against the side of the ottoman. His shoulders are shaking as he comes undone. The danger of someone so huge going into a panic is not lost on me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this," he moans, "I didn’t want to freak you out any more than you already were. I swear that my weird fantasy isn’t why you’re here, I’d never do that! Please, please believe me when I say I’d do anything to help you. I don’t know what I’d do if… if you…”

I suddenly leap into action. I scramble to my feet and despite the fear I hurry forwards until I’m pressing my hands against the giant’s head.

“Aiden, stop!” I shout, “I believe you!” I try to push his dark bangs aside so that I can reach his skin, and he stiffens at my touch and holds his breath. I continue with a softer tone, “Please, you’re scaring me. Just… I believe you, okay?”

The massive head shudders with a muffled, shaky exhale. His hands clench into fists just behind me on the ottoman and then he slowly pushes himself up. His eyes are red with gathering tears, he’s clearly still very upset. But I think I’m walking him back off the cliff.

“Do you actually?” he asks faintly, looking me up and down, “Or is it just that I’m scaring you?”

That’s a good question. Am I just trying to calm him down at any cost? Maybe. But I take a second to look back on all of the time I’ve spent getting to know this guy. I don’t think I’m lying.

“I’ve been living with you for months,” I say with determination, “I know you’re not a bad person. I don’t… fully get all of this, but I’m not accusing you of anything, alright? I’m just trying to understand…”

He’s hanging on my every word. The look in his gaze is still so intense and I struggle continuing the eye contact, looking to the side for a moment. “I’m trying to figure out… what this means for us now.”

“Nothing.” Aiden’s answer is swift and firm and desperate. “It changes nothing. These were extenuating circumstances and I did a terrible thing, and I will never touch you like that ever again. I’ll treat you the same as I always have.”

I frown and shake my head. “And I’m supposed to just pretend that I don’t know this thing about you?”

Somewhere behind me I hear his fingers fidgeting restlessly. His expressions shift on his face as he continues to try and bargain. “I mean… okay, what if it was like… um… you were blonde. And then you found out I was super into blondes. Would that suddenly invalidate the friendship?”

I almost laugh grimly at this, but instead I give him a hard look. “You don’t think our situation is slightly more complicated than that?”

Now it’s Aiden who can’t keep eye contact. He looks past me, his anxiety slowly getting replaced with despair.

“And I’m not saying this invalidates our friendship,” I add, trying to soften the blow, “It just… complicates it. I mean, right?”

He doesn’t answer. But he does look at me again, the heartbreak plain on his face. A tear finally breaks through the dam.

“Do you want to move out?” he says quietly, voice breaking. “We can find someone else who you’d be more… comfortable around? Or maybe now is when we go to the police and take some steps towards undoing this?"

A wave of terror passes over me. Stop. Not now. It’s too much to think about. “N-no…” I say quickly, “Um… I just need some time to wrap my head around it all first…”

There’s a long pause. Even I feel completely exhausted at this point. We have no idea what to do with the conversation now. Where do the two of us go from here? If this were any other circumstance, I’d be trying to make physical contact. I desperately want the comfort of his touch that I’ve come to rely on. But after the last time he touched me, I just can’t get myself to reach out.

Aiden’s the one to finally break the silence. “Should I call Moira right now? She can even just stay here tonight, I’ll find somewhere else to…”

He trails off as he sees me shaking my head. “She’s in Florida, remember?” I say, and his shoulders slump in response. “I’m fine, just… um… maybe we should call it early tonight.”

It’s a rejection that hurts us both. But I think we equally need the space to breathe and to think. And in his case… to get some damn sleep.

“Alright,” he says, straightening up a hair. He suddenly looks very self conscious about how close his hands have been to me this entire time, and he moves them apart to create some distance from where I’m standing. For a moment the gears turn in his head until he awkwardly suggests, “I can, um… I’ll go grab a book or something to…”

“It’s fine, Aiden,” I sigh. “You can still carry me over.”

He swallows and tightens his jaw as he flips over one of his hands and flattens it out, not daring to bring it any closer to me. It does feel rather strange to approach it now… like getting bitten by a dog and then coming back over to pet it anyway. I step onto his palm, trying not to overthink it.

The giant lifts me up, keeping the hand I’m in unnaturally rigid, without bringing his fingers in. He curves his other hand around me for safety, but he still gives me a lot of space. Like cupping the flame of a candle - something to protect… but not to touch.

A few gentle steps later he sets his hand down right next to my bed and I walk onto the stable surface of the desk. I crane my neck to look up at Aiden’s distant, broken expression.

“I’m sorry…” he breathes, another tear spilling over. He then immediately backs up from me, his eyes the first thing to turn away before he pivots to leave the room.

Even though he can’t hear me, I say it anyway. “Me too…”

This is not how summer vacation was supposed to start.

For a second I think I might pass out. I collapse into a sitting position right onto the desk and put my face into my hands as I feel the world tilting every which way. I want to wake up. I don’t want to process everything that just happened. I lean a little too far forward, and I feel a twinge in my side that makes me wince and sit back up.

I wasn’t entirely truthful when asked if I was hurt. I can already feel my ribs bruising, and the back of one knee stings from it getting bent
a little farther than it should have. I knew his fingers were capable of causing a lot of damage if he wanted them to, but getting a small taste of that reality has left me rattled. And yet, what hurts most of all isn’t the physical pain. It was the invasively sexual nature of it all. I just feel so dirty, so violated, even if it was an accident, even if he’s sorry…

Aiden’s pleading runs through my head. Seeing him like that was a whole other kind of stressful. I just can’t stop hearing it in my mind. “Please believe me.” It plays again and again until it’s no longer his voice that I’m hearing. It’s a voice from six years ago.

“I’m so sorry”

“Please, listen to me”

“I’ll never do that again”

“You have to believe me!”

Believe me.

Believe me.

How can I?!

I wrench myself up from the floor and run over to my stuffed lion that’s leaning against the desk. I wish I could wrap my arms around it and throw myself on the bed, but that’s impossible now. Instead I bury myself into the fur, running my fingers through it as if trying to clean blood off my hands. This fuzzy little guy has been my companion through so much adversity, and he helps me snap out of it in this moment. I firmly put myself back in place.

This time is nothing like back then. Aiden is a very different person, and I’ve changed too. It’s not fair for me to compare it. Because this time, I’m not on the verge of doing something drastic. And this time… I do believe him. I trust that he didn’t somehow manipulate me into my current situation. I may not understand his fascination with how small I am, but that doesn’t erase the rest of our relationship. He didn’t mean any harm, he apologized, and I trust it won’t happen again. Why can’t it be that simple? Why does it have to be this hard?

I let out a long, deep sigh. I pet my stuffed lion a few more times before I turn around and lean my back against it instead, letting myself slide back to the floor. Tears build up and eventually start running down my face.

It’s hard because I’m falling for him. That in and of itself is already a confusing and difficult thing for me. But now it’s just gotten that much more complicated. I don’t know what’s physically possible between me and a literal giant, but if anything were to become sexual, I would have wanted it to be in a romantic way. A consensual one. Hell, one that we’re at least both conscious for!

Not to mention the fact that he’s been hiding such a secret from me for so long. I understand why he didn’t tell me about his kink… How do you admit to someone that you fetishize their very existence? But it doesn’t hurt any less that I’ve been kept in the dark.

God, I’m such a hypocrite.

I wipe tears away, taking in shaky breaths. Come on, girl. This is just one more hardship the world has thrown at me. Don’t give up, fight back, work harder, remember? I’ve been through way worse. I will figure this out.

There’s a sliver of myself that’s vying for my attention, a small voice inside that suggests something hopefully, and I listen to it now. All this time that Aiden and I have been getting close, I’ve felt so worthless in my three-inch prison. I figured no one could ever desire someone so insignificant. I’d thought that if he and I were to be together, my size would be nothing but a hindrance. But… that’s not quite the case, is it? Maybe this means that my stature isn’t an obstacle after all. Maybe… Maybe…

Maybe it’s the only reason he took an interest in me to begin with.

And with this last heartbreaking thought, I finally give up. I get to my feet. Trudge over to my bed. And crawl under the covers. I’ll be awake for hours yet as my brain anxiously tries to sort everything out in my head. But for now… I just cry.

@foreverlurk An all powerful giant can be exciting sometimes, but I think it’s much more interesting for him to have flaws and insecurities and vulnerable moments and all that jazz

@SmolChlo I’m notoriously bad about taking pictures when I’m hanging out in VRC. I do like this little moment when I was trying to take some selfies right as my friend goes in to grab me lol

@Aborigen Can’t tell you enough how appreciated it is that you gave us a voice in your show! I’m sure I can speak for everyone when I say the doors to the dollhouse are open for you to hang out anytime

Chapter 37
Aiden

My body did me a solid last night. I figured there was no way I’d be able to sleep at all after everything that happened, no matter how exhausted I was. The pain was too fresh, too raw, too much. But maybe it’s because it was too much that I shut down. I ended up passing out as if slipping into death.

And yet, when I wake up this morning, it may be with a clearer, more rested mind, but it’s with nothing but anxious thoughts. It doesn’t feel like yesterday was real. Never in my entire life had I considered what it might be like to assault someone. Much less by accident. I can still hear her screams every time I close my eyes and I’m not sure it’s something I’ll ever get over.

I’ve also never attempted to share the inner workings of my sexuality with anyone, much less with someone who unwillingly embodies the epitome of my fantasies. It’s something that would have been embarrassing no matter what, but in this particular context the shame feels insurmountable. How am I going to face Evie now? How do we get through this?

I roll over to stare at the tiny paper crane on my nightstand and try to think about the upcoming day. I have double office hours for work so I’ll be out from morning to evening. I kinda wish I could just sneak out the window… I want to give the poor girl some space. Or maybe I’m just being a total coward. But no, I’ll need to enter the other room at some point, we’ll need to acknowledge each other eventually. Maybe there’s a way to ease into it, though. I pick up my phone and my pulse quickens as I type out a text message.

How are you doing? Are you ok?

I send it before I can chicken out and then put my phone down with a sigh, rubbing at my face in both an attempt to wake up and to calm down. I’m surprised by how quickly she answers.

Come in here ya big dummy : )

I smile, quickly getting misty-eyed with immense relief and gratitude. I’m not sure exactly what I expected - maybe the silent treatment, or her saying she needs space, or her dismissively telling me that she’s fine. But this response gives me the strength to get out of bed. I pause in the doorway before I turn the corner, heart still racing, and take some steadying breaths as I pray that I don’t screw up this next interaction.

Evie’s waiting on the other side of the desk from where her stuff is, closer to where I come in, as if to be on neutral ground. She’s perched herself up on top of a stapler and sits there with a gentle smile that makes my stomach twist the moment we make eye contact. I weakly try to return the smile, taking a few steps forward before stopping. My intention is to hover where her voice is just within my earshot without getting too close too quickly.

"Did you get some sleep?” she calls out.

“I did,” I say with a nod. I motion hesitantly just ahead of myself and ask, “Um, is it okay if I…?”

“Yeah, come sit down.”

Despising how big I am right now, I take one more step forward and reach out for the chair, rolling it just a little closer to me before I take a seat so that I’m not right up against the desk.

She looks so fragile and helpless sitting up on a stapler that’s as big as a rhinoceros compared to her. So little… Seriously, thank god I didn’t end up crushing her or anything yesterday. Thank god she’s safe.

I’d thought about what I wanted to initially say to her before I came in, so I push myself to say it now. “Hey so… I’m sorry I had such a meltdown last night… and made a bad situation worse. Especially since you were the actual victim. I guess I was so worried that you’d see me as a monster that I sorta became just that.”

“You’re not a monster, Aiden…” Evie soothes, her voice a balm on my fried nerves. “It’s alright. You’re allowed to have feelings.”

I’m admittedly a little thrown off by how nice she’s being. She’s not acting afraid of me the way she did last night, she’s acting the way she always had before. Which, concerningly, does involve her glossing over her own needs sometimes.

I lean in, just slightly. “And how are you feeling?”

I see the first sign that things aren’t 100% back to normal in the way her shoulders tense and her smile becomes pained. “Yesterday was a lot,” she admits, “I’m still trying to sort it all out. But I’ve been doing some thinking and there’s two things I want to make clear.”

She hops off of the stapler and takes a step towards me, and reflexively I push myself back in my chair, still worried about being too close.

“For one,” she says, ignoring my retreat, “You grabbing me was a total freak accident. I know you never would have done that normally, and I forgive you, okay?”

I close my eyes for a second, letting that wash over me as I inhale. I still don’t feel any less guilty, but the fact that Evie’s so readily extending this olive branch still rocks me to my core. “Thank you,” I sigh, voice wavering as I open my eyes again, “I owe you big time.”

She smiles again before continuing. “The other thing is that I don’t blame you for keeping your fantasies a secret from me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how hard that must have been for you to tell me, of all people. I get it.”

I stare, dumbfounded, and she turns her gaze down to her fingers as she messes with a strand of her hair.

“A kink doesn’t define you,” she adds nervously, “I still don’t completely understand it so I might have some questions going forward, but… if you can still treat me like a friend and not just some kind of object then we’re good. You think that’s possible?”

“Of course,” I say immediately before I stutter out, “You are being… insanely understanding.”

She sighs and looks up at me, her brown doe eyes shining pitifully. Her voice is soft enough that I have to lean in again. “I don’t want to lose what we had.”

It’s like an arrow to the heart. Maybe I won’t escape this conversation without getting weepy after all. Despite my current fear of my own too-large body, my first instinct is to reach out and touch her. Stopping myself is agonizing and I have to ball my hand up into a fist in my lap to keep it in place.

But then… she reaches out instead. Not quite an arms-spread-out-for-a-hug type of request, just one tiny hand extending forward, as if she’s hoping for me to offer her something. Now feeling like I have her permission, I tentatively reach up and bridge the space, palm up and forefinger outstretched, bringing it just within her reach but letting her initiate. She takes it in both hands and for a moment she just stares at the pad of the digit, running her thumbs over the lines of my fingerprint.

I feel a shiver down my spine from the light touches, combined with a wave of shame over how nice the sensation is. Despite how much better our talk is going this morning, a part of me can’t help feeling uneasy. Something just still feels off. It shouldn’t be this simple. Just like that, everything’s over and done with? I have a hard time believing it. But right now I just hold very still as Evie tries her best to find our old normal, eventually wrapping her arms around my finger and hugging it against her.

“I would’ve told you eventually, you know,” I say quietly, “Depending on the direction things went for us…”

She holds me a little tighter and nods. I don’t think either one of us knows which direction we’re facing at the moment.

Suddenly she snaps out of whatever stupor she was in. “You gotta get to work, right?” she says, letting go of my finger and taking a couple of steps back.

“I’m not late yet. Listen, Evie…” My exhale’s a little shaky as I ride the waves of uneasiness. I can’t just leave things as they are. “I still feel so awful about what happened. And it just happened, so if you ever realize later that you need to talk about it again, with me, with Moira, whatever you need, don’t hold back. And if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please tell me.”

“You can get me breakfast?” my little friend says with a smirk, “I could totally go for cold pizza.”

I laugh, sounding a bit hollow even though I appreciate the jest. “I’m serious, Eve. Anything you think could help, just say the word. Think about it, okay?”

And with that I do go ahead and put something together for breakfast - I opt for yogurt and granola, but I also get her a tiny sliver of leftover pizza. I do love that little quirk about her, her ability to stomach any food at any hour. It’s such a relief to know that I still get to share daily life with her and experience all of her idiosyncrasies.

And then I’m off to work. Even though we’re in May, there’s a bit of a cold front that came through today, so the crisp morning air helps invigorate me for the long day ahead.

It feels very different being on the other end of the final exam hump - it’s so strange to think that my last test was just yesterday. So much has happened in so little time. I try to stay focused on all of the students who are still in the throes of studying, which at least helps my mind to stay occupied. But anytime there’s a quiet moment, I’m either thinking about Evie’s panicked distress from last night, or her painfully gentle understanding from this morning.

During my lunch break, I try to write a note to her. I haven’t written her anything in a couple of weeks since I was so busy, and now seems like the right time to get back to it. But I don’t quite know which way to go. Something heartfelt? A casual return to form? I stare at the blank page in front of me until I hear footsteps at my office door. When I look up, I do a double take, not having expected my friend Diego to show up.

“Hey man!” he says, squeezing his tall, burly frame into the comparatively tight space, “I was wondering if I’d find you here. What’d you think of the Biochem final yesterday?”

“Oh, um…” I set my pencil down and have to actively think about the query. “I thought it was rough. Like, I’m pretty sure I passed, but maybe just barely.”

Diego has wandered right past my desk and is now standing in front of the whiteboard nearby, looking curiously at whatever lesson I’d been giving last. True to form, he starts messing with his surroundings as he talks to me, absently picking up a marker.

“Oh thank god, it’s not just me,” he sighs, “Maybe they’ll grade it on a curve. You’re on a lunch break, right? Wanna go grab food?”

He’s already drawn a dick on the whiteboard and I chuckle as I shake my head at him. “I can’t, I should stick around here. Sometimes lunch is the only time people can come by.”

He turns and gives me a sagely nod as he ambles back over towards my desk. “That’s real dedication to your students. I respect that.” In one swift movement, he turns a nearby chair around and straddles it, looking at me pointedly. “You look like something’s wrong. What happened?”

As generally goofy as he is, he can be stupidly perceptive sometimes. I almost ask him what he means by that, but I don’t feel like playing dumb and the truth slips out. “I screwed up last night… I hurt a friend. I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I feel terrible.”

Diego’s eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck, that doesn’t sound like you at all. You wanna talk about it, bro?”

I pick my pencil back up to fidget with it, balancing it on the side of a finger. “It was just… really dumb, on my part,” I mutter, “And what almost makes it harder is that they’re being really nice and accommodating about it.”

“I hear ya, Star can be like that. Last month I forgot about some plans we made, and the only thing that made me feel worse was her being such a sweetheart about it. But her being so sweet’s part of why I love her, ya know?”

He reaches an arm forward to the desk and flicks a stray pen in my direction. It rolls over in a blur and whacks against my hand, and the pencil I was balancing clatters down. I let out a breath of laughter and figure that I’ve lost him, but he jumps right back into his advice.

“If they’ve forgiven you, don’t take that shit for granted! You probably shouldn’t keep bringing up what happened, but you just gotta go above and beyond for a little while. Make sure they know you really care, yeah? Extra communication and attention and all that jazz.”

Damn, he’s actually helping me feel better. Not that I should be surprised, considering how long I’ve known the guy. I shoot my friend a smile. “Right.”

Diego scoots his chair forward so that he can lean both forearms on the edge of the desk in a mock intimidating manner. “So when do I get to meet her?” he asks with a smirk.

Yeeeah not happening, bud. “She’s just a friend. And she doesn’t live here unfortunately,” I say evasively. Technically I’m telling the truth… Evie lives on a different desk.

@maladaptivetiny For me it’s always about giant hands (implication not usually them belonging to an actual giant, but rather me feeling small even as I go about my daily business). Like I might tense my shoulders up a little as I imagine fingers wrapping around my body to give me a little hug. Or it’s just a finger playfully poking at me, gently stroking my back, petting my head, whatever comfort I might need in the moment. And laying under the covers might as well be laying under the warmth of an all-encompassing hand too~ I’ll still occasionally imagine other things - a pair of huge lips pressing me into the bed, or a giant eye peering in through a window, stuff like that.

Sometimes my daydreams are more like “work” though - I plan out a lot of my writing on a walk or in the shower, just thinking about a scene I’m planning with my characters and letting it play out in my mind. I have a google doc full of notes and quotes for future scenes of stuff I’m writing so that I can jot down any revelations on my phone, I never know when inspiration might strike.

Most of the time it’s all pretty PG in my head, but sometimes my mind will wander with the idea of shrinking smaller and smaller and smallerrr, or getting pinned down by a finger with a bit more dominance that whatever gentle fun is usually happening otherwise.

@foreverlurk Dammit! So much for a micro size benefit being harder to spot…