Best posts made by littlest-lily

@Olo DANGIT. I lived in Austin for a few years back in college. Missed opportunity lol

@foreverlurk Contrary to what was illustrated, she’s got him wrapped around her tiny little pinkie

Chapter 48
Evie

“Hey, Moira?”

I try to time my question for when my petite-but-still-enormous friend isn’t so concentrated on the detail work that she’s in the middle of. She’s been very focused on painting a mug and has just set down her brush to look over her progress. But she shoots me a warm smile the second I say her name.

“What’s up?”

“Do you like camping?” I pause in the middle of my own painting work. This is one of those rare occasions where all three of Mo’s roommates are out at the same time, so I’m hanging out at her place for once. We just had dinner and are getting some work done for our Etsy shops while Aiden’s out with a couple of friends.

Moira leans an elbow on the table as she ponders this. “I haven’t done a whole lot of it. I like being outside, but… I don’t really love the whole tent thing. Why? Is Aiden planning on bringing you on one of his camping trips?”

“No, not really. We keep talking about it as if we’ll do it one day, but I think it’s mostly wishful thinking. I’ve never camped before… I’d love to try it, but it’s probably not a good idea.”

“Hmm, because of the critters and stuff?”

“And the close quarters. Not sure where I’d sleep in a one-person tent. Maybe in a box or something.”

“Well, if you’re going to try camping with anyone, I think he’d be the one to do it with. Even if I knew what I was doing, it’s not like I’m ever able to take time off.”

I feel suddenly derailed by this detail. “Aww, Mo! When’s the last time you took a vacation?”

“Um…” Moira idly taps a finger against the surface of the table. “Trips like the one to Florida don’t count?”

“Nope. Something not work related.” I’ve left the mini I was working on to take a few steps closer to her. I drape my forearms onto hers, looking up at her expectantly.

“It’s probably been years then…” She gives me a half smile and shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve got big dreams. Gotta put in the time so I can reach them.”

“I really, really admire you for that,” I say, and this time I lean forward to rest my chin on her arm too. “But I’m worried you’ll burn out. No matter how much yoga and Tai Chi you do. We should all go on a trip somewhere!”

She lets out a little laugh. “The three of us? I’m down.” In a gentle yet playful gesture she reaches over to poke the top of my head. “Though you sure I wouldn’t just be in the way?”

My mouth snaps shut. I can feel myself blushing fervently. Has she figured out that Aiden and I…?

Thankfully I’m spared answering her when there’s an unfamiliar dinging sound that splits the air. Moira gasps, “Oh oh oh! Evie, look! You’ve got an order!”

I immediately pivot, whipping around to where she’s pointing. I have my phone propped up a short distance away, and there’s a notification from the Etsy app that has lit the screen up.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, putting a hand to my mouth. “It’s my first one.” I just made the Bitty Forge storefront public yesterday. I had no idea how long it would take for someone to buy something.

“Really?! Congrats, girl!”

I’m hurrying over to my phone now to open up the app and see which of the figurines was purchased. Gnome bard. Yeah, I was pretty proud of that one. Soon she’ll have a new home in Nebraska. My mind’s already busy with the fact that I’ll need to write out a receipt and pack up the mini tomorrow - it’s one of the smaller ones so I’m pretty confident I can do it myself. I’ll have to rely on Aiden to mail it out for me, but thankfully the post office is about a block away from home, the plan is for him to drop packages off on the way to work. Holy crap… it’s happening. I can actually make money at this size!

While I’m fussing over that, Moira’s own phone buzzes and she swiftly answers the call. “Hey! You all done with dinner?”

I can’t quite make out everything that he’s saying, but I recognize Aiden’s voice on the other end of the line. I abandon what I was doing and quickly start packing up the paints and materials I’d just been using. Once Mo’s off the phone, she helps me gather up the rest and then escorts me out of her apartment building.

Even though the sun is setting and it’s getting darker, I can tell which car we’re heading towards from afar. The glass window on the driver’s side starts lowering, my bright-eyed roommate smiling from within. He quickly notices me poking my head out from my usual spot in the purse-carrier, and after a brief glance around to make sure no one’s there, he reaches a hand out preemptively as we make our way over to him.

“Guess who got her first sale!” Moira sings, carefully lifting me out of her bag and holding me up, as if displaying a child’s artwork, before she hands me over.

“Oh shit! That’s awesome, Evie!” Aiden’s beaming now as I hop onto his palm, and I feel like I’m melting as our eyes meet and he guides me into the car. I can tell he was about to bring me right to his mouth but thought better of it… We really do just need to tell Moira already. It feels like we’ve been waiting for some sort of event to mark our relationship as something official, but maybe that’s silly.

We say goodbye to our friend, and soon I’m sitting in a pocket, cheek pressed up against the giant’s chest as I snuggle into him and drink in his warmth. I hear a thump outside the thick wall that lines the pocket. I think Aiden’s still getting used to the fact that there’s a barrier there whenever he’s driving.

“Hey,” he says enthusiastically, “Would you be down to go out somewhere?”

I glance up. “Right now?”

“Yeah! I want to celebrate you starting your own business. It’s pretty amazing, you know.”

“Aww thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you. And now I can actually earn my keep!"

He sighs softly but jokes along. “Good thing too. I was thiiiis close to kicking you out.”

I grin and snuggle deeper into his shirt. “I’d love to go somewhere with you.”

“Okay, great! I have just the place in mind.”

He takes me to “Kleine Blume,” which is a beer garden of some sort. At least that’s what he calls it, but he explains it’s more like a small restaurant with mostly outdoor seating. I’m a little surprised, we’ve never actually eaten at a restaurant before, always opting to get takeout. But we’ve both already had dinner so a meal can’t be why we’re here anyway. I remain firmly out of sight as I hear the buzz of many titans’ conversations in the distance, until the noise begins to die down somewhat as it feels like Aiden turns a corner. A few moments later we descend, so I figure he’s now sitting, and then the pocket buckles inward as he’s able to touch me through the fabric now that the plastic barrier’s gone.

“Come on out!" He’s speaking openly, even if it’s still at a low volume. I tentatively get to my feet, peering out at our surroundings, vast and open. Me standing up seems to be signal enough for giant fingers to reach right in and pinch me around the torso. I flinch as I grab at his hand reflexively, feeling nervous since he’s picking me up before I got a good look around.

“This place is private?” I ask, but I quickly see that there’s no one in sight in the vicinity. We’re at one of four wooden tables, the rest of them empty. There’s a small building a short distance away - although to me it’s a massive building that’s quite far. The commotion seems to be coming from beyond it, with mostly just soft acoustic guitar reaching our location from some kind of live music set.

“Most of the tables are on the other side of this building,” Aiden confirms, “Plus it’s pretty dark. Figured we’d be okay back here.”

He’s right, it’s quickly becoming dim now that the sun has set. The tables in the area are all candlelit, though, which is really nice. The glow that’s coming from the inside of the building makes it a little less difficult to see, too. I’m quickly relaxing at the peaceful feeling of the space.

“I used to come here a lot in my first year of grad school,” Aiden says, watching me with a smile as I explore the width of the table. “It’s a nice place to study during the day, not sure why I stopped coming. Want to get a drink?”

I come up to the sprawling menu and glance over it curiously. There’s a small section for food and a much larger section for alcohol - apparently it’s not just beer. “Um, I’m good,” I respond, feeling the thick paper beneath my bare feet as I pad my way along the edge of it. “You feel free to, though.”

“You sure? Come to think of it… You’ve never really shared an interest in drinking, have you?”

I bristle, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable, and I step off of the menu. “Yeah, I’m not a fan…” I say evenly, walking towards the candle instead so that I can gaze at its flame. “I have my own reservations about alcohol. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have some!”

There’s the slight creaking of wood below my feet as Aiden leans more of his weight onto the table. “I don’t have to get anything alcoholic,” he insists, “And you don’t have to talk about it, but…” A fingertip brushes me between the shoulder blades. “You know you can tell me anything, yeah?”

I pivot, turning back towards him like a magnet drawn to iron. Such an odd thing, how he towers above me like a monstrous predator and yet I feel so safe around him… Large swaths of my past are sensitive subjects that I desperately avoid, but this one shouldn’t be too bad. I can talk about this.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile, “I um… I…”

Well… I thought I’d be able to talk about it. But nothing’s coming out.

The candlelight dances in Aiden’s eyes as he moves a bit closer and gently prompts, “Did someone you know tend to drink a bit too much?”

“My dad. Apparently,” I finally say with a nod. And now that he’s coaxed this much out of me, the rest comes more easily. “He didn’t get violent or anything, as far as I can remember. He passed away when I was really young so I don’t recall much… But I was always told that alcohol was a bad thing growing up.”

The giant frowns sympathetically. “I see. I can understand how seeing someone else drinking might be a little triggering then?”

Something shifts inside me. That simple moment of recounting and reflecting gives me a sensation I wasn’t expecting. A catharsis, and a determination to move on.

“Actually, not really,” I say, “I never saw him do it, I was just told he did. My mom would get angry if I ever got curious about it.” I pause and then add, “You know what, nevermind. I want to try it. Let’s get a drink!”

“You sure?” Aiden asks again, this time with a budding smile.

“Yes,” I reply confidently.

“Okay. I promise I won’t overdo it, I’ll need to drive back anyway. So if you’re not used to drinking, let’s get something that’s not too strong? Daiquiris aren’t usually bad, they’re more like dessert. There are a couple of different options here…”

I hurry back over to the menu, still unable to move as quickly as I’d like due to my leg, and now I’m feeling a growing excitement at trying something new. We make a selection and Aiden spots a fellow giant in the distance that he waves over. He hides me in a closed hand under the table so that he can order the cocktail, and then a few minutes later there’s a twelve foot cocktail glass on the table.

The fruity scents of the pineapple daiquiri drift down to where I’m standing. “This feels like a tropical summer evening on a beach,” I comment contentedly, enjoying a gentle warm breeze that’s passing through.

“We just need the sounds of the ocean,” Aiden agrees, and he’s busy sealing one end of the straw with a finger so that he can extract some of the sugary drink for me. He lowers it down to where I’m standing before glancing up towards the sky. “I wonder if they’re going to…”

He trails off and doesn’t finish his sentence, but I’m too distracted by the deliciously smelling black tube that is now hovering next to me. I take it in both hands, noticing the dome of a giant droplet of liquid just inside. Stuff like surface tension still weirds me out sometimes, but not enough to stop me from taking a sip from the drop.

“Oh… damn that’s good!” I say eagerly, until the burn hits. Wowza. It’s not horrible, just very different from what I’m used to.

“Glad you like it,” Aiden chuckles, taking a sip of his own straight from the glass. “Let’s not have you go overboard now!”

The heat that’s now in my stomach tells me I don’t think that will be a problem. I look up towards my towering friend, and I realize just how dark it’s gotten. I’d only be seeing his silhouette if it wasn’t for the candlelight casting a warm glow on his skin. I’m just about to comment on it getting harder to see when it happens.

As if a stage play were coming to life, the entire area gets bathed in gentle illumination. Countless strands of string lights have turned on far above us like a plethora of stars covering the night sky.

“There it is,” says my gigantic companion with satisfaction. I feel his eyes on me as I look wildly around at the hundreds of lights above us. They’re so beautiful. Now I definitely feel like I’m on some magical summer vacation. A rather romantic one at that…

We continue to sip away at the treat, chatting avidly the entire time. Aiden tells me a lively story about the first time he got really drunk, off of cheap beer and expensive whiskey, with people he hardly knew. The tale includes multiple park fountains, a group of math professors, and one very territorial pigeon, and by the end I’m laughing so hard that I almost fall over. I don’t think I’m actually getting tipsy at this point, just… high off of joy, I guess. This is turning into a great night.

My drinking partner’s currently focusing on his phone, scrolling through his photos to find the one someone took of him climbing out of the fountain. I allow myself to stare at him, feeling my face flush the longer I do so.

Despite spending so much time looking down at me, he still manages to have such good posture, his shoulders broad and strong. The golden lights make his skin look so warm and inviting, as if beckoning me to snuggle against him. For a moment I focus on his face. He has such fine features - I wouldn’t call them feminine, but they’re still unobtrusive, leaving nothing to distract from the beauty of his eyes. The way the tiny string lights reflect in the hazel make them look like portals to heaven. God, have I always found him this attractive? Or is it because I’ve come to adore this person more than anything else on the planet?

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are?" It’s only once I hear it come out of my mouth that I realize I just said that out loud. The giant looks up from his phone to meet my gaze, looking surprised. I didn’t mean to say it, maybe I should be feeling embarrassed. But I’m not.

Aiden sets his phone down, the search for the photo forgotten. But as he shifts all of his attention to me it’s clear that he’s not sure how to respond, just managing to summon a shy, quizzical smile. That’s alright, I can take up the mantle again. I get to my feet and reach a hand up in his direction.

“Can you come down here?” I ask.

He doesn’t hesitate then, folding his arms on the table and lowering his head in one smooth motion. His eyes never leave mine, and I almost feel dizzy at the sight of his approach. He’s so massive and yet so careful, so conscious of his every movement. I step up to him without any reservation as he tilts his face to settle his cheek against the back of his hand. I reach out to pet the bridge of his nose, one caring stroke before I lean my forehead against it.

“I used to find you so intimidating, at first,” I mumble, “That’s so weird to think about.”

“I can’t exactly blame you,” Aiden says softly.

“Still, it feels like so long ago. Little did I know that I was in the best hands possible. I love spending time with you, Aiden. I could have ended up with anyone… But I’m so thankful it was with you.”

I hear his happy exhale, like quiet laughter. Suddenly I feel his finger against my spine, creating a soft pressure that makes every muscle in my back relax. I didn’t see his hand approach but I still sensed its warm presence - I’ve gotten so accustomed to it - and I don’t startle in the slightest.

“You’re such a sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice wavering slightly with emotion, “You make me so happy, Evie.”

I pull away from him for a moment, stepping back to better meet his gaze. “Can I try something?"

He inclines his head in response, a curious smile narrowing his eyes. I walk along his face, letting my fingers trail against his nose, until I reach his mouth. I hesitate for only a moment before coming closer… and gently kissing his upper lip.

His reaction is immediate. The soft pink skin is suddenly gone as Aiden inhales sharply and lifts his head back up. He’s still quite close, his chin hovering maybe an inch above the table, but he’s pulled back far enough to get a good look at me. He looks completely taken aback, as shocked as if I’d bitten him.

I can’t help giggling at the flabbergasted look on his face. I’ve let him kiss me so many times now, but it was always on my back or on the top of my head or something. This is the first time I’ve attempted to truly kiss him back.

“Could you even feel that?" I ask with amusement.

He breathes in, holds it, breathes out again, still staring at me intently. “Yes," he says, and I notice how flushed his cheeks are. He puts a hand just behind me, cupping it around my frame before breathlessly repeating, “Yes…"

He starts to lean forward again, and his palm pushes against my back. I stumble forward, and my heart starts racing, and his mouth is swooping in. It doesn’t feel too forceful, his guiding hand is gentle, and then his lips embrace me in a way they never have before.

I close my eyes, focusing on the physical sensations. It starts out soft and familiar, warm pressure against my cheek, shoulder, arm. Then it moves down and envelops my chest and stomach. Back up, and he covers more of my face now, and I don’t care that my own lips probably feel more like pinpricks to him - I kiss him, again and again and again. In response I hear - and feel - the softest moan. He’s always been careful about not getting any saliva on me, but he’s more passionate this time, and as he moves lower along my body his lips part just enough that I feel a dampness against the hem of my shirt. Warm air passes over my stomach, sweet from the pineapple on his breath. I take all of it in avidly, pressing myself into him, yearning for more.

I had wondered before, and now I have my answer… This is how we kiss. It’s not just his mouth against my mouth, it’s so much more than that. It’s like a dance where I use my entire body, it’s his essence blending into mine. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, comforting, all at once. After a minute has passed, even though I’m nowhere near intoxicated by alcohol, I feel drunk with the sensation of his skin against my own.

We don’t go on for much longer than that - the giant finally pulls away from me and I slump backwards, landing on the slope of his palm and letting myself sprawl out as I try to catch my breath. Aiden lifts me up, continuing to hold me so close, unable to keep an elated grin off his face. I’m beaming right back. And then we’re laughing, soft chuckles that fill the air and frolic amongst the twinkling lights above us.

This is super interesting to hear people’s thoughts about. I’ll be completely honest (and I’m not judging anyone who feels differently, these are just my personal preferences!), I’m reeeally not into the ugly giant thing. It’s actually something that has bothered me over the years, particularly in traditional media, is that I feel like male giants tend to be these ugly monsters, and yet giant women tend to be these beautiful goddesses. I just want my hot giant dude too!! lol

But again, zero judgement for those who like the idea of being dominated by a monster. I get the appeal of not having a choice in that matter. And I totally agree that it would be nice to have more stories where the giant can be both ugly and kind.

@SmolChlo Awww well shucks! The makes me so happy Yeah that’s definitely the series where I have the most of it because the giants are shameless lol

@SmolChlo Argh I want to reach this level of comfy so bad.

Also I’m having an intrusive thought of someone snapping that thing closed and whisking her away

Chapter 50
Aiden

Fuck me. Can today get any worse?

I won’t lie, I’m really upset when I leave the apartment. Furious, even. I’m concerned about Evie, yes, of course I am, but good god am I frustrated with her too. How the hell are we going to make this work if she just refuses to communicate… at all? I hadn’t realized how bad it could get.

It doesn’t help that I’m also feeling frustrated with Diego right now. Okay, so the designated driver’s car broke down while they were out downtown. Yes, it’s annoying, but I still don’t understand why he can’t just call an Uber. He’d gone on about how there were several more bars he wanted to hit and he didn’t want to have to wait around for a ride every time, blablabla. But did he have to be so insistent after I told him “no” multiple times? Just because it’s his birthday doesn’t give him the right to be so selfish.

He heralds me like a hero, though, when I finally make it to whatever bar the group got stranded at. I could tell by his voice over the phone, but he’s already well on his way to getting trashed. The stifling bear hug he gives me is little comfort when I know I’ll be the one sober friend in the group for the next couple of hours, all while I’m very preoccupied with the situation waiting for me back at home.

As the night drags on, Diego’s in such a good mood and is being so affectionate with me and the other guys that I eventually feel guilty for acting sour. Yeah, I didn’t want to come here, but also the issues I’m having with Evie aren’t his fault. Ultimately I try to force a smile onto my face, as fake as it feels.

But this eventually wears on me. It’s been three hours and midnight has come and gone when I can’t take it anymore - I pretend to need to go to the bathroom to take a breather. I sit in the cramped but thankfully clean toilet stall and put my head in my hands. I try and fail to take deep breaths.

What do I do when I eventually get home? I’m assuming Evie is asleep by now. Not that it matters, I’ll probably wake her up when I get back whether I mean to or not. Do I try talking to her again? What do I even say? How do I get her to talk to me?

I stew in frustration for minutes on end. I’ve tried my utmost the entire time she’s lived with me to be so careful and considerate and patient. Haven’t I proven that I won’t judge her no matter what she has to say? Haven’t I shown that she can trust me?

Is… Was any of it even… real? Did she actually fall for me the way I fell for her? Or was that fake too, just another way of placating me and making sure she still has a roof over her head? No, I can’t… Surely it wasn’t all lies. That’s not fair to completely dismiss our connection like that, and it’s too heartbreaking to think about. But there’s clearly complicating factors. And I still have no idea why she wants to avoid getting outside help.

That last thought makes me pause. Come to think of it, I got confirmation today, didn’t I? She’s definitely scared of the police. I don’t know why, but… That sounds kinda major, doesn’t it? She’s afraid of the law. Perhaps that should be a red flag, but I can’t possibly imagine her being a dangerous criminal. Maybe she did something stupid when she was younger, or she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. But whatever happened that led to her feeling the way she does must have been a pretty big deal. Maybe even something really traumatic.

I drop my hands from my face, blinking as I stare down at my shoes. All night I’ve been resenting Evie for not opening up to me. When maybe what I should be focusing on right now is why she’s so tightly shut. I’ve been grappling with the fear that she sees me as nothing but a menace, but… it’s not like she opened up to Moira about this either. And it sounded like she wasn’t close with anyone else before us, even back before she lived in a world of giants. Maybe I’ve been taking things so personally when in reality, it’s got nothing to do with me. She might be dealing with some kind of trauma that’s bigger than any of us.

And I got angry at her for it.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. I picture her, sitting there on the table, looking… terrified. Maybe not of me, deep down. But I probably wasn’t helping. By the end I was just demanding answers despite her clearly having some sort of breakdown. Fuck. Me.

I want to go home right this second, apologize, tell her she doesn’t owe me anything. I have to go back and try to fix this.

But of course, things aren’t quite so simple. I’m here now. At least the night seems to be winding down, and thankfully everyone else is finally alright with using rideshares to get back home. At this point Diego’s completely wasted though, and I want to make sure he gets home okay. So I drive him to his house and help support him as we walk up to the door. I watch him fumble for the keys in his pocket.

“Uh oh,” he says after checking the same pockets for the fourth time. “Fuuuuck… My keys’re gone. Must’ve dropped 'em…”

“Wonderful,” I groan, “Isn’t Star home? I know it’s late, but can we give her a call to let us in?”

“Nah man… This was s’posed to be a night with the guuyyys. She’s out 'f town, at her parennts…”

I check his pockets myself before finally admitting defeat. With a heavy sigh I think through my options. The timing is awful, but in the end my exhausted mind can’t think of any other solution but to offer to let him stay at my place.

As we drive back to the apartment and it nears two in the morning, I’m deep in thought while Diego nods off in the passenger’s seat. He’s clearly forgetting why he’s not in his own house now and giggling like an idiot about the “amazing” night he’s had. Okay. Plan is that I get him inside, to my room. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, make sure to stay at Evie’s side and keep her hidden. I’ll need to talk to her… But first I need to get my larger friend settled in and out of the way.

Thirty seconds. I had left him alone in the living room for less than thirty damn seconds. I’d hurriedly gotten my own bed ready for him and grabbed a blanket and pillow for myself. He seemed so out of it that I figured he wouldn’t budge - I was expecting to find him passed out on the floor. But just as I turn to head out of my room, I know immediately something’s wrong. Diego’s not where I left him. And then I hear a very faint but unmistakable scream.

I’m rushing now, hurrying into the living room, just in time to see my drunken friend slumped over the desk and picking something up off of it. Heart in my throat, I almost panic and start yelling at him. But that might create a worse problem, so silently I toss down the blanket and pillow onto the couch as I run over to Diego, and I grab his arm. I hover an open hand just under his fist and squeeze his wrist, hard.

“Let go,” I command firmly.

“Dude, wh-”

“Now.”

With one last jab of my thumb into his arm he loosens his grasp, and I can feel the warm little weight of Evie’s body tumbling into my palm. My heart leaps and I close my fingers around her. She grips me back harder than she ever has.

I glare at Diego as I take a couple of steps back. “Change of plans. You sleep out here. Since apparently you can move around just fine. And stop messing with my stuff.”

He’s looking at me dumbfounded, but I just turn and march back into my bedroom. I shut the door and lock it behind me.

“Evie, I’m so sorry,” I whisper urgently, taking the couple of quick steps to my bed and kneeling beside it on the carpet.

I settle my hand onto the mattress and let her slide onto the bed sheets. There’s more light here than there was in the living room since I’d left my table lamp on, so I can see how pale and shaky she is. She looks completely disheveled and is gasping for air, shuffling backwards on the bed and looking around frantically. Right, I don’t ever bring her in here, of course she’s disoriented.

“You’re safe, the door’s locked,” I soothe before asking intently, “Are you okay? How’s your leg, did he hurt you?”

Her breath is still coming in fast and shallow and she’s keeping a fearful eye on her surroundings, but she manages a small nod. “N-no, I’m okay, he didn’t really t-touch it. It’s fine. I’m f-fine… I…”

No more words come out. But not because she’s steadying herself. In fact her gasping is getting worse. Her body’s shaking, her panic boiling over. She is anything but fine.

Evie starts hyperventilating, curling in on herself as she hugs her arms, and then she drops her head down to the mattress. She goes from panting to sobbing to screaming and back again. She’s writhing, rocking back and forth, hitting her head against the thankfully soft ground. I’ve never seen her come completely undone like this. I watch in wide-eyed fear for a few moments, too stunned to move. It’s been too much for her today, and the frightening encounter she just had was enough to push her over the edge. Whatever has built up inside of her is finally all coming out at once, explosively, and she’s getting caught in the blast.

I reach my hand back up, cup it around her, gently touch her shoulder with a finger. She flinches a little but otherwise doesn’t react, just continues to whimper and cry and dry heave as she curls in on herself.

“Deep breaths, sweet girl,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her upper back. I hope I’m not making things worse, but it’s almost like she can’t tell I’m there.

The panic attack lasts almost thirty minutes, enough time for me to seriously worry. But whether it’s due to exhaustion or getting it out of her system, her cries start faltering. She begins to respond to my attempts to help calm her down. Finally, even though she’s still curled in on herself, I see her reach one tiny hand out, tentatively searching the air. Immediately I offer her my pinkie and she grabs it, pulls it in, hugs it against her.

With my other hand I carefully stroke her back, softly remind her that she’s safe, just as I’ve done again and again for the last half hour. And this time she finally lifts her head. She’s a mess and she looks absolutely exhausted. But she’s also looking lucid again.

"I-I have to talk to you,” she stutters with a hoarse voice.

“Whatever you need,” I say, and I bring up a tissue that I’d found in the midst of the meltdown, tenderly dabbing it against her cheek before offering it to her. “Just don’t worry about me right now, okay?”

Evie takes the paper with the saddest, weakest look of gratitude I’ve ever seen. She wipes her face off, blows her nose, takes a deep breath. “No, this is just as much for myself. I should’ve told you a long time ago… Bear with me, let me figure out where to start.”

Since it looks like she’s more stable, I decide it might be best to give her some room. I hesitantly pull my hands away, she doesn’t protest, and I settle into a cross-legged seat in front of the bed. The tiny woman stares at the bedsheets for a few seconds, her breathing still shaky, but she’s looking more and more determined as she gathers her resolve. One more deep, tremulous breath. And then an equally tremulous sentence.

“Growing up… my name was Evelyn Frost.”

Uhh. Definitely didn’t realize that she was about to share a different… name. In the couple of seconds of silence that follows, I steel myself for the telling tale she’s about to share.

“Frost was my mom’s maiden name. After my dad passed away when I was four, she took it up again and used it for me too, even though it didn’t match what was on my birth certificate… Anyway, that’s not important. My mom was not a good person. Even before she was a single mom I don’t think she wanted to be a mother at all. And then after my dad died she started doing hard drugs, which… didn’t help.

"Most of the time she acted like I wasn’t there. Any time she did say something to me, it was usually because she was angry about something. She didn’t like me making friends with hardly anyone. She hit me, a lot. Sometimes she’d lock me in the basement for days if she was sick of seeing me.”

I listen quietly. In the back of my mind, I hear Evie’s voice echo, “I hate being underground.” I had no idea the inciting reason for that was straight up child abuse.

“The older I got the more… useful I became to her, I guess. She had me work to help pay rent, do chores, that kind of thing. For the most part I was still terrified of her, but I started standing up for myself too, just a little bit. Not enough to make that much of a difference, and sometimes she doubled down on the punishments. But we were at least able to speak to each other more and more without it devolving into constant one-way fights.”

She glances up at me, a little apprehensive, as if wondering how I’m taking all of this information. I just give her a little nod to let her know I’m listening intently. Then she swallows and clutches her bit of tissue paper tightly as she switches gears.

“I was sixteen when I met Brock. I was waitressing at this old diner at the time, and I was used to guys being sleazy sometimes, but this one was different. He was so kind. So attentive to me. We ended up talking that whole evening as he kept ordering drinks and hardly touching them. By the end of the night I was completely smitten. By the end of the week we were a couple.

“He made me really happy. He would drive me places, he showered me with compliments and gifts, and he was always there for me when things got hard at home. He was eight years older than me so I saw him as so smart and wise… and he was a stand-up citizen so my mom actually approved of him, finally, for once. We’d only been dating for three months when the two of us had already decided I’d move in with him once I turned eighteen. For the next year and a half, I was over the moon.

“On my eighteenth birthday my mom died. She actually got me a cake that year, which was unlike her… I still remember the fancy red cake stand she put it on… Her decision to celebrate didn’t stop her from taking a couple of hits that morning though. It was just me and her when I tried to bring up the subject of me moving out, and it didn’t go well. It turned into a horrible fight, she was screaming at me, she was so furious that I would abandon her like that. I can still picture the cake on the floor… I was kneeling next to it, I picked up the half-broken cake stand… Next thing I knew she was on top of me, and she tripped or something, she fell on me and my head was knocked back against the counter and I blacked out…”

Like a flash in my mind, I suddenly think of what Evie had said, that night we played Clue and I accidentally hit her in the head. I was worried I’d given her a concussion and her response was “I’ve had way worse before.” I never even questioned that.

“She must have passed out too,” Evie continues, “But it’s only when I woke up later that I realized she had fallen on the broken ceramic I was holding and had… had bled out… But it wasn’t intentional! I swear to you, it wasn’t on purpose. Even… even if she deserved it. I didn’t kill her!”

“I believe you,” I assure her gently.

Her eyes meet mine and she nods gratefully. “But it looked bad. Really bad. I called Brock in a panic and he came over right away. He helped cover for me so that I didn’t really have to deal with the police, things were hard enough as is. I did move in with him. I was horrified by what had happened, but… I was also finally free to live my life the way I wanted. And I wanted to be with him more than anything else. I was completely devoted.”

Her tone drops as a shadow passes over her expression. "I didn’t see the signs then. I thought Brock just loved me so much. He didn’t want me to have to worry about working and insisted I should just quit my job, stay at home and relax for a while. Every couple of weeks he bought me a new outfit, even though I was never that much into fashion. The compliments he showered me with started becoming… a little much. And he wasn’t quite as supportive anymore when I was struggling - anytime I’d complain or get sad about something he just seemed so annoyed by it. He didn’t like it whenever I tried to make new friends, he thought I was spending too much time with other people. He started limiting how much food I could have. He had certain… expectations in bed. And over time he started getting upset with me over the smallest things…

"I was still pretty young and naive and I made a lot of excuses for him, but eventually even I could tell things were toxic. But anytime I tried to talk to him about it, it didn’t go well. It got physical sometimes. Every time he hit me he was so apologetic, he’d buy me another damn dress and tell me how much he loved me… but I was seeing through him at this point.

“After living together for over two years, I wanted out. He knew I wanted out. One day he took me out into the woods. He confronted me about how I felt, but when I admitted I wanted to break up he went ballistic. He had a gun, h-he threatened to kill himself. The way things had gotten, I honestly wouldn’t have put it past him to kill me first… I’d never been so scared in my life… The next day while he was at work, I snuck out. I ran away, just packed the few things I could carry and took the first bus out of town.”

Recounting this is clearly painful for her and she falls into silence for a moment, breathing hard. I stare at her for a few seconds, reeling from the intensity of it all.

“Holy shit, Evie,” I whisper.

She’s determined to keep going. "I was homeless for a little while. Very slowly I found jobs and started building myself back up… But Brock never stopped looking for me. Somehow he would always figure out where I went. One time he showed up where I worked, I just snuck out the back and skipped town again. Another time he’d figured out who one of my new friends was and began harassing her to find out where I was staying, so I left. One day I was leaving for work and recognized his car sitting in the parking lot. I immediately grabbed my stuff and ran away on the spot.

“It was a hard four years on my own. Eventually I decided it might be worth it to go back to school. If I could get a college degree, maybe I could get a better job, move farther away, find a place to live with better security. I applied for a million scholarships and managed to get enough that I thought I could pull it off. That’s when I changed my name. I used my dad’s last name of Ondine, which is what my legal name is anyway, and just wrote down one of my nicknames as if it was my official one. I hoped between that and the fact that I was moving several states over it might make it harder for Brock to track me down. And so far so good, he hasn’t found me. Although, there are probably a few extra reasons for that…”

She motions down at her small stature. It’s hard to believe that she’s been through enough hardship that it rivals the fact that she was shrunken into this state. I’d gotten the sense she had some darker parts of her life she didn’t want to share, things that might have explained the constant glossing over her own needs or why she hadn’t been able to maintain friendships, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this bad. And Evie’s not quite finished yet.

“I want to try and explain something…” she says, staring intently into my eyes. "A lot happened during my solo life. A year into it, after I’d stayed a couple of months in the same place… I met a guy. I was so scared of dating again, but he was such a good friend and I gave it a shot. It was great, he helped me realize what a real, loving relationship could actually be like. I owe him a lot. But after dating for a few months I finally told him about Brock. And it… it really freaked him out. H-he didn’t say it was the reason, but he broke up with me the next day. Not that it would have mattered because it wasn’t much longer before I, um… had to move again.

"The year after that, I met someone who I just saw as a casual friend, but he wanted more. He was so angry when I turned him down. Somehow he found out I had a stalker. He tried to blackmail me with it, he’d threaten me every time I saw him at work. I didn’t even wait until Brock showed up again. Within a few weeks I left.

“The year after that, I had my first official roommate since the breakup. It was hard to find hostels or single apartments in the area I was in, and I figured it was time I try living with someone again. She was nice, I guess. But again… I made a mistake and ended up telling her about my ex. She was scared that he might show up at our place and ended up kicking me out.”

I’m putting it all together, everything’s starting to make some sense. No wonder she was so hesitant to talk to me about this.

She looks too tired to cry but weak sobs are racking her body anyway. “I’m sorry, Aiden, y-you’ve never given me any reason t-to doubt you, but every time I opened up to someone about this shit it always blew up in my face. I d-didn’t want to lose you too. But… but I shouldn’t have just lumped y-you in with–”

“It’s okay,” I breathe, curling my hand behind her, “It’s alright, I get it now. Thank you so much for telling me. I’m sorry you’ve had such a weight on your shoulders all this time, without any support.”

Right then, out of nowhere, she smiles. Just a fleeting moment of pure relief and appreciation after a lifetime of struggling alone. It’s just for a second before it crumbles into exhaustion again. I half smile back and then lean in, I want to make sure she knows…

“I’m not going anywhere.” I say, kissing her forehead, and I hover there, staying close. “I’m still processing some of that, but… I don’t care what happened in the past. I want to embrace everything about you, just as you are. Okay?”

More weak sobs. “I should’ve known you would,” she whimpers. She rests her head against my chin, letting out whatever tears she has left. And then she’s kissing me, planting little pecks all along my skin, and it fills me with so much emotion that I almost start crying with her. We embrace for a long time, with her resting in the catharsis while I take the time to really absorb everything she just told me.

“I just have one question, if you don’t mind me asking,” I finally say, pulling my face away and sitting back on my heels. “I’m still not sure why you’re so against the police? I think the situation with your mom could be proven to be an accident, or at least self defense, assuming it ever came up again. And they might actually be able to help with a stalker. I’m sure that’s easier said than done, but…”

Evie slowly shakes her head, gaze trailing to the floor. “Maybe under normal circumstances I would have gotten the courage to go to the cops. But that’s just the problem…” She looks up at me with a defeated smile. “Brock is a cop.”

@Olo I mean once you go down to a foot tall you’re going to be dependent on whoever’s taking care of you anyway, so… then you might as well keep going!

@Olo As much as it’s not my thing personally, I do think there are more reasons to want to see your favorite characters in sizey scenarios outside of limited access. I can absolutely see the fun and excitement in taking a character you love and wondering about how they might fit into your fantasies. Beloved characters bring us comfort, spark our creativity, and yes, get our more “primal” urges going sometimes 🤭

Personally I think it’s just a matter of preference - at least that’s the case for me! It is interesting that I have also noticed the (general) trend of it being mostly men who have the “which celebrity/character” discussion. But I don’t think that necessarily makes it “wrong" or anything, just like many other facets about these fantasies. It’s an interesting discussion in any case!

@foreverlurk I hope you feel better soon!!

Yes, the thought of my entire hand being completely enveloped in my giant’s gentle grasp It’s got me weak in the knees

@tiny-ivy Yeah I definitely interpreted this as more of a curse, I suppose created by some sort of chaotic god who is amused by the mental gymnastics people do to convince themselves they’re not queer. I have to say, I was initially nervous checking this out since I’m not into the violent stuff, but I found this super engaging, great job!

@Im-Warden OOF, as much as I love the fantasy of it, I just don’t know if I’d go for it because of all the logistics! I’m already not very tall But maybe I would try it… once… Yeah yeah… totally will just stop at one…

@Olo Oh how the tables have turned (not that I’m a big Twilight fan, but I was a bit frustrated by the sheer amount of hate that it got)

@foreverlurk WOW what an incredibly motivating compliment! I thankfully have a very active imagination that is very dedicated to this stuff so I’m not stopping anytime soon

@Olo I couldn’t help myself, I have to make it just a little tragic sometimes