Best posts made by littlest-lily

Chapter 5
Aiden

This. Is. Crazy.

I hope Evie can’t tell just how freaked out I actually am. I’ve probably had more adrenaline pumped into me in the last hour than in the entire past year combined. I can’t even begin to unpack Dr. Little’s death and the part I played in it. Not to mention the predicament of my shrunken classmate who I’m holding in my hand like she’s a goddamn hamster. But I know that all pales in comparison to what this poor girl just went through. She looks so lost and afraid and I feel a sense of responsibility to keep it together in her stead.

But then again. The experience of having her willingly climb onto my hand is… something else.

I’m not wearing gloves this time so I can feel the tiny tickle of her fingers as she hesitantly reaches her arms out and touches me. I can sense the weight and temperature of her body as she clambers aboard. I can tell she’s trembling as she crawls away from the edges and kneels in the middle of my palm. Despite a part of me feeling incredibly stressed about the whole thing, another part of me is just as enchanted now as I was the first time I picked her up.

I gently lift her off the counter and it’s like holding a little bird, she’s so light and delicate and… and adorable. I feel a wave of guilt at having any kind of positive emotion from this when Evie still seems so freaked out. I slip my other hand under the first, cupping my fingers around her protectively.

“Is this okay?” I ask, trying to keep my hands as steady as I can. “You good?”

She’s looking a bit pale and is clearly trying to not look down. But after a moment of pause she glances up at me, tilting her neck back. “I’m good… Don’t drop me please.” And she actually manages a weak smile.

Maybe that was some feeble attempt at joking around, but I think it might be best to respond with sincerity right now. “I won’t. I’ve got you. So uh… I’ll give you a tour? You’ve already seen the kitchen. Right past here’s the living room…”

Holding Evie up near chest level, I begin slowly making my way around the apartment. The kitchen and living make up one big open area, with a couch and ottoman to one side, a desk near the window, a small bookshelf beside it. Coming off to the right side of the room is a nook containing a washer-dryer unit, with a door to my bedroom on one side and one to the bathroom on the other. My place isn’t particularly huge, but for her I’m sure it’s a very different story.

I keep glancing down at the tiny girl in my hands, trying really hard not to stare excessively. Thankfully she’s too busy looking around wide-eyed at everything to seemingly notice. It’s all feeling so surreal, like a very bizarre dream. I try to remember seeing her in class, back when she was just average human height.

She always sat by herself towards the back, though that didn’t keep her from looking attentive. I’d thought before of sitting next to her, not sure if she was shy or just preferred being on her own. Every once in a while I’d notice someone else talk to her, and she always seemed really friendly despite keeping to herself. But I already had a friend in the class and never got around to approaching her. She’d rarely linger after the lesson either, just pick up her things and march out of the classroom with a confident stride.

It’s so difficult to accept that this tiny person I’m holding is the same young woman I’d see in class… All the details just as I remember them but in miniature…

“You might wonder why I even have a desk in the other room since I clearly do all my homework in here,” I say as lightheartedly as I can when we get to the bedroom that’s littered with papers and textbooks. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

That’s how I end my very short tour of the place. Evie hasn’t said a word during the entire thing and honestly things are feeling pretty awkward. Neither one of us knows how to handle the situation.

I’m having a hard time imagining what the coming days are going to look like. Even though she seemed so hesitant to get outside help - and I can understand why facing all of that might be intimidating - we’re going to need to do it eventually if we want to try and restore her, right? Assuming I don’t have a police officer show up at my door first because it was on record that I was in the room that caught fire.

I don’t know how long it’ll be until we face the outside world. But I figure at the very least we should take the rest of the afternoon to try to settle our nerves and form some kind of plan.

“So… I’m trying to think through how we want to do this,” I say as I step back into the living room, “I don’t want to just leave you stranded up somewhere, but I also don’t want to put you on the floor, that doesn’t seem safe. Or sanitary.” I should really give this place a good clean.

Evie says something quietly, too quiet for me to make out. Without thinking, I reflexively lift her up higher to hear her better, causing her to recoil and give me a fearful look. “Sorry,” I wince, pulling her back farther from my face again.

Good going, Aiden. Let’s just continue to traumatize her why don’t we.

“It’s hard to hear you sometimes,” I try to explain.

“N-no, it’s okay,” she says, projecting a little more. “Um, I was just agreeing… on maybe not the floor… But I mean, anywhere’s fine.”

“Okay, well… How about I set you on the ottoman for now? I’m just nervous putting you anywhere too high up.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I make my way over to the nearby couch and begin to lower myself to the floor, which should be a simple maneuver and yet I feel a wave of anxiety as I do it… I’m so conscious of every little movement I’m making at this point. Once I’m kneeling down I shift both hands up to rest on the gray, rectangular ottoman in question. It’s not very big, maybe one by two feet, but again for Evie I’m sure it’s a very different experience. She crawls back off my hand, the tickling of it making my heart skip a beat, and I actually feel a little sad about how relieved she looks to be off of me and on more stable ground.

She gets to her feet and has to hold her arms out to maintain her balance on the plush fabric, making me second guess myself at the choice of furniture to put her on. Although her trying not to fall over like this is also really cute…

Stop. Staring. I tell myself, looking off to the side for a second. I really need to focus.

“C-can I get you anything?” I finally say, turning back to her. “Some water maybe?”

Evie has given up on trying to walk at this point and just sits on the ottoman cross-legged. “Actually, yeah. That would be great,” she says, remembering to speak up this time.

I head back to the kitchen, feeling admittedly nervous about leaving her by herself even if she’s still within my sights. Without even thinking I grab a glass from one of the cabinets and am about to fill it before it hits me that she can’t use it. Right. Smaller cup.

I start looking through the other cabinets and drawers for something I can use and instead I’m realizing just how many other things are no longer going to work either - forks, knives, plates… And it’s going to go beyond that. If she stays with me past today, where will she sleep? What will she wear? How will she bathe or brush her teeth or go to the bathroom? What about her belongings, wherever she was living before? What about her classes? Or the thousand other concerns I’m not even thinking about right now? My head is already spinning and I haven’t even been able to get her a simple glass of water.

I take a deep, steadying breath. My brain is scattered and keeps trying to take on too much at once. I need to focus on what’s right in front of me. Like… this measuring spoon. Yeah, this could work, actually.

I fill the teaspoon with a few drops of water and start heading back when I notice something else right in front of me. I’d forgotten about Dr. Little’s bag, laying on the floor by the front door. Hold on. What if there’s an antidote or something in here?!

Suddenly a man on a mission, I grab the briefcase and come back into the living room where Evie’s waiting patiently right where I left her. She notices the intent look on my face and seems a bit unnerved by it.

“Is everything okay?” she asks as I kneel on the floor and put the bag down.

I carefully set the measuring spoon onto the ottoman as I explain, “I just remembered, I grabbed this on the way out of the lab, it’s some of Dr. Little’s stuff…”

I zip open the briefcase, laying it out on the ground and taking in the array of stuff inside. Evie’s interest is piqued and she forgets about the water, scooting over to the edge of the ottoman to watch.

Trying not to rush, I go through everything in turn. There’s an unsettling amount of syringes, filled with what’s clearly labeled to be a variety of sedatives. There’s a small contraption of some kind, a metal box that looks to be the right size for Evie to fit inside. A carrying case maybe? Though when I pick it up there’s a slight sloshing sound that seems to be coming from its walls - I’m not sure what to make of it and just set it on the ottoman near my little classmate. There are a few tiny outfits that look more like hospital gowns. There’s also a ziplock bag with a huge variety of miniature items, too small and too numerous for me to make sense of right away, and I put these on the ottoman too.

I don’t see anything that is an obvious cure for being shrunk. I really shouldn’t be surprised, especially with all the machinery it took to reduce things down in the first place, but it’s disappointing nonetheless. There is a journal, though, and I pick this up last. Evie’s watching me intently as I take a quick glance through.

“Looks like it’s some of his notes,” I tell her as I flip the pages, “I’ll see if I can find any clues in here…”

“Alright. I’ll look through some of this other stuff.” She’s already struggling to access the ziplock bag, and I’m about to reach over to help when she finally pries it open.

“Is that a toothbrush?” I ask, leaning in to squint at the first thing she pulls out.

“Looks like he was really prepared for… something,” she adds with a grim tone.

“Well, at least some of this might help us in the short run,” I say as I get up to sit on the couch, notebook in hand. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

And this is how we spend the next part of the afternoon. At first there’s lingering tension in the air, the both of us still recovering from all of the previous excitement. But as the minutes eventually become hours in the relative quiet, we’re finally beginning to relax somewhat.

These notes were definitely not anything official, and they’re really hard to decipher. Some pages he just used as scratch paper, littering them with equations and nonsensical thoughts. At some point the focus switches to the experiments he ran, just offhanded observations on the large variety of items that he shrank down. I’m thinking most of the items that Evie is going through are the results of said experiments.

I still can’t help occasionally glancing at the shrunken girl before me. I tell myself that I’m just watching over her, making sure she’s safe up on her perch. But I can’t deny the fluttering in my stomach whenever I look over. I just want to observe every detail… Her industrious mannerisms as she parses through the miniatures. The way she has to scoop water into her hands to take a drink from the measuring spoon. The expressions on her little face, overwhelmed but also quite focused on the task at hand. Everything about her is just so tiny and cute and… enticing.

Focus, I tell myself, every time.

At one point, I come across something in the journal that at least looks familiar - a sketch of a schematic with some notes on how it works. I realize it matches the little metal box that had been in the bag too.

“So…” I interrupt the silence as quietly as I can but still manage to make Evie flinch. “Apparently this thing’s supposed to be a miniature bathroom,” I say, pointing at the box that’s still on the ottoman.

She stands to approach the chamber curiously and I lean in as well. There’s a door in the front that she pulls open, cautiously taking a step to peer inside. I don’t quite see what she’s doing as she carefully explores the apparatus, but suddenly there’s a whooshing sound from within. It only lasts a second or two and it’s not very loud, to me at least, but it makes her yell and suddenly pull her arm back, taking several fearful steps in reverse.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Y-yes. That’ll take some getting used to,” she answers, staring at her new bathroom. “Still…” she adds with a weak attempt at laughter, “Better than trying to use a normal toilet I guess.”

That’s true. One less item on our very, very long list of things to worry about. The fact that this device even exists is a little disconcerting, though. Hammering in the fact that Evie would not have been restored to her normal stature anytime soon.

I take a second to glance at what she’s been working on, sorting all of these tiny items into sections, lined up neatly in each group. I’m recognizing things from what I’ve been seeing in the notebook - plastic bottles, various fruit, a towel, a basketball, I even notice the chair that I had personally seen shrink down. They’re not all tailored to her size, a strange amalgamation of items at all different scales.

Evie notices where I’m looking and addresses me, “I do think there’s some stuff here that might come in handy, but most of it’s so random. I’m guessing this was all of the earlier experiments? Not sure if this is any kind of clue, but it looks like most of it’s made of wood or cloth or plastic.”

“Right, so I do know a little bit on how the machine worked…” I say, at this point looking for any excuse to talk to her and escape the cramped handwriting of Dr. Little’s pen. “It used some sort of solution that he vaporized into a gas. That’s what would alter the size of the subject topically.”

“Topically?” She looks up at me with a furrowed brow. “I figured it was whatever I was breathing in there, but it worked by touch?”

“Yeah, that’s how your clothes got smaller too. It doesn’t affect metal or glass, though, which is what the testing chamber was made of.”

“That explains why I couldn’t wear jewelry or anything metal…”

“Yup,” I say with a nod. It somehow feels productive to tell her the little that I know about the technology behind this. But it’s not. I’m not really doing anything to solve the problem, since it’s not like I actually understand how any of this works.

We return to our tasks - I dog-ear the page about the mini bathroom so that I can refer back to how it works later, and then I go back to squinting at the messy handwriting. Time continues to drag and I’m not finding anything else that’s particularly relevant in the notebook.

That is, until I reach the end of it. Then I find way more than I had bargained for.

@Giganto82 Pffff we’re all just having dinner in the mini dining room when the floor rumbles and then suddenly a giant hand is joining the party. Some of us are scared, others are excited, and others still are just annoyed at the cleanup we’ll have to do after you knock the table over

@starslayer I think the best way I can answer this is describing my own experience being small… in VR! Because as much as I enjoy the idea of being tiny, I know that if it was real there would still be quite a bit of fear there - not sure how much you want to delve into that aspect in your story. However it’s obviously safe in VR, so I was free to really enjoy it. I definitely did a lot of looking around at how big everything was and explored, but what I was most excited about was meeting giants and fellow tinies. I felt a bit shy at first (and honestly a bit intimidated by the size difference), but once I got over that I kept having to remind myself that giants need personal space too, because it was just sooo exciting to be picked up and interacted with. So once I made friends I became more liberal about hugging fingers, climbing up in their lap or on their shoe, basically harrying them for attention

Chapter 7
Evie

As tired as I was, I still don’t get the best night’s sleep. Every time I turn over my subconscious senses how unnaturally thick the threads of the ottoman are below me and jolts me awake. Even when my eyes are closed, I can feel the vast empty space all around. The extra light probably doesn’t help, although I think if I was in darkness I’d probably be even more scared.

Nevertheless, bit by bit, my body gets some rest. According to the wall clock that’s hanging in the distance like a numbered moon, it’s about 4am when I give up on getting any more sleep. I get up, use the bathroom - now at least mentally prepared for the aggressive noise that comes out of it - and take a few minutes to sit and think.

I’ve always been pretty convinced that the universe has it out for me. As far back as I can remember, from the moment my dad died when I was four and my mom turned to drugs, it’s been one thing after another. This whole getting shrunk thing might just take the cake. But I’ve always dealt with each challenge the same way. Don’t give up. Fight back. Work harder. I really, really wish that the universe could just give me a lucky break, just once in my life. But I’m used to that not being the case.

As I stare out at the wide expanse of the apartment, dizzied by the sight, I give myself five more minutes to be upset about it. To wallow in the hopelessness and fear, and to curse whatever uncaring gods have allowed this to happen.

Then I put the lid back on. Enough with the tears. It’s time to pull myself together.

I make my way along the lines of miniaturized items - I’ve sorted out the things that I think will be particularly helpful in the coming days, but I don’t want to overlook anything. This stuffed narwhal might appear useless, but if Aiden hadn’t given me something to use as a pillow it would have come in handy.

Aiden… I don’t know how to feel about him. I’m not worried about his intentions, at this point he’s clearly proven himself to be kind and well-meaning. But I still can’t help being nervous about how things will go. It’s understandable that he’d find this whole thing pretty stressful too. Unlike me, if he wanted to he could just walk away from all this and move on with his life. Honestly, I wouldn’t particularly blame him. I really, really hope that we find a way to reverse the shrinking before that happens.

I trip and fall over, landing on my knees. I’d have hoped to be used to the texture of the floor by now, but this ottoman is just so difficult to walk on. I hate the idea of burdening my giant keeper by requesting a different home base, but I don’t know if I can keep spending all my time here. I might as well make it as quick and easy as possible to relocate… Let’s pack it up.

There’s a plastic letter opener among the shrunken items that looks like a dagger - since it isn’t made of metal it’s not as sharp as I’d like, but it can still do the trick. I approach the massive ziplock bag that had originally held all of the reduced items and start cutting into it, making large square sheets from the plastic. I use these to bundle up the miniatures, bringing in the corners of the tarp-like plastic and tying them off with a knot.

The process is slow, especially with how long it takes me to cut out the squares. Hours pass and the sun slowly begins to rise outside. But at least it keeps me busy. Eventually I finish making bundles and start piling them into the miniature bathroom like it’s a moving van. I’m almost done with this and am feeling very out of breath when I hear a disturbance in the distance. My muscles tense as I figure that Aiden’s getting up.

Even though I order myself to not freak out when I see him, I still go stiff at the sound of heavy thumping signaling his footsteps and then flinch at the sight of something so big coming into view so suddenly. But despite my heartbeat picking up speed, I manage to maintain a composed facade this time.

Even from a distance I can see more detail at this size than I normally might. Aiden clearly didn’t sleep great either. And yet despite the bedhead and heightened shadows under his eyes, he still gives me a warm, friendly smile as he enters the room.

“Good morning,” his voice resounds, “Sorry, have you been up a while? Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks!” I really try to project this time since he’s still a few feet away.

He comes closer to sit near me on the couch, and it’s as he crouches down that he notices all the shrunken items aren’t laid out anymore. His eyes move to the bundle in my hands.

“Huh. Looks like you’ve been busy,” he says, blinking.

“Yeah, I… guess I have been up for a little while.” I’m feeling embarrassed, holding my makeshift luggage a little tighter to my chest as I hesitate to make the request. “I was hoping to ask you, if it’s not too much trouble… since you said you don’t really use your desk… do you mind if I move up there?”

His eyes now glance down to my feet, still clearly unsteady on the squishy surface of the ottoman, before his gaze flicks back up. “Oh, yeah, no problem. Sorry Evie, I could have helped you with all that…”

I shake my head and take an unsteady step towards the metal bathroom, tossing the final bundle inside. “That’s alright, it’s been a good distraction.” I shut the door and step back sheepishly.

Aiden smiles at me and gathers the timer and the last of the tiny items, since a few of them are too big to have packed up - things like a calendar, a book, a baseball bat, all bigger than I am. Then he easily lifts the bathroom, standing up so he can transport it all to the nearby desk.

I stare out at the chasm between me and the high-up surface of the table, trying to imagine a ramp between here and there. It would be almost a hundred feet in length… How long would it have taken for me to have traversed back and forth across such a bridge in order to carry all of those items across? Meanwhile for this giant it takes him less than two seconds with practically no effort.

“Want to go up there right now?” he asks, his arm already outstretched as he comes back to me.

I keep it together best I can as the massive beast of a hand comes in for a landing. “Sure,” I respond and force myself to march right up to him. I try to continue talking so that I can keep my mind off of how intimidated I feel. “So I’m guessing there wasn’t anything useful in that journal?”

His fingers visibly tense at the question - well, it’s visible to me anyway. “No, not really,” he responds softly, “I’m sorry…”

I climb onto his open palm, silently crawling to the center of it with my eyes downcast. I’m surprised by how disappointed I feel. I mean, what was I expecting? To find out I just need a bit more vitamin C and I’ll be back to my old self before I know it?

“Yeah, I figured as much,” I say with mock indifference, settling into a kneeling position. I look up and give him a nod, an indication that I’m ready for him to carry me over.

He inclines his head in return. “Up you go.”

Aiden raises me skyward, a lot more slow and careful than he was with the bathroom. I do wish I had something more substantial to hold onto. A part of me wants to ask him to loosely wrap his fingers around me so I can do just that, but I feel way too awkward about making that kind of request.

Thankfully the giant continues talking, keeping me distracted from how far down the floor is as we traverse the gap together. “So for uh… next steps. I was planning to go out this morning, check out a few things. There was a news article about the fire, and from the photo it looks like the building itself is intact. With any luck, so is some of the machinery - I’ll see what I can find out. I should probably replace my phone and stuff too…”

“Don’t you have classes today?” I ask a little absently, keeping my eyes on my destination as I’m now elevatoring down to the surface of the desk. As I climb back off his hand, I catch Aiden’s bemused look.

“You’re kidding, right? That’s the last thing on my mind. I can stand to be absent for a couple of days.” He pauses to make sure I’m fully off of him before he pulls his hand away again.

There’s something weirdly nostalgic about stepping out onto the parking lot sized surface of the desk. The visuals are rather foreign - a wide expanse, some oversized office supplies littering the other end, the desk lamp hulking ahead of me like an otherworldly tree. And yet something still feels familiar. I’ve done a lot of moving around in my life, and I realize that I’m strangely reminded of the moment where I walk into a new, empty apartment for the first time.

Aiden takes a seat at the chair nearby, his gaze softening as he watches me take a look around. I rather prefer seeing him from this position - instead of being near his knees as he sits on the couch, I’m closer to his chest level now. He’s still looming over me, but not by quite as much. I have a feeling this view of him is going to become all too familiar.

“You definitely look steadier on your feet,” he remarks.

“Yeah, this is way better, thank you. Plus I can get more sunlight from here!” I motion to the window that’s just alongside the desk. “I promise I’ll stay over on this side.”

“No worries, take up the whole desk. I’m clearly not using it, it’s yours.”

My chest tightens. I keep feeling uncomfortable with how much he’s going out of his way for me. But I also don’t want to seem ungrateful.

“It’s more than I need but… Thank you…”

“You bet. With any luck it’ll be very temporary anyway.”

I’ve noticed that Aiden has these moments where his gaze tends to linger. Can’t say that I blame him - it’s been less than 24 hours since I’ve become a bit of a freak of nature. I must be a rather bizarre sight… And hell, sometimes I can’t stop staring at him either.

He snaps out of it, straightening up as he says, “Um, I saw you were almost out of water, I’ll go get you some more… Any breakfast requests? I’m not the best cook but the fridge is pretty well stocked.”

I blush, chest getting even tighter at the feeling of being so reliant on him. “Anything’s fine, really…” I say and realize my nervousness is peeking through so I add more lightheartedly, “I don’t even eat ‘breakfast foods’ usually. I’m a heathen and will just have whatever leftovers are in the fridge.”

Aiden grins at this. “You’re just like a friend of mine. He will literally roll into an 8AM class with his tupperware of lasagna.”

“Breakfast lasagna’s the best!”

We share a laugh. It’s our first genuine laugh since the incident and I watch how it lights up his whole face like sunbeams after a storm. I swear, for just a split second, I forget that I’m small. For this infinitesimal moment of time, I can pretend that everything’s normal and I’m just getting to know a new friend.

And then the nerves rush right back. I stay perfectly composed though as Aiden continues, "I’m pretty good at making eggs actually. We should have a proper meal this time.”

I extend an awkward thumbs up. “I’m game.”

He gets me another spoonful of water before he retreats into the distant kitchen. I can still see him just fine from where I’m at, but it’s more like watching clouds moving around, albeit too colorful and too fast. Sounds of clanging and sizzling echo in the distance, and cooking smells eventually travel across the room.

I decide to use my water supply not just for hydration - I really need to clean myself off. I can still smell the smoke on my clothes, a sobering reminder of just how recently everything changed. And speaking of clothes…

I already know from going through all the shrunken items yesterday that the only things that fit me are those little robes that Dr. Little had set aside. They’re so flimsy and scratchy, clearly something he bought as is instead of a real piece of clothing that he shrunk down. Still, it’ll have to do for now. I wish I had the tools to make my own clothes. I’m not too bad at sewing, but I would at least need a needle and thread and don’t have anything of the sort… Oh well, like Aiden said, with any luck this is all very temporary. I don’t want to think about the alternative right now.

I at least have a few tiny toothbrushes, toothpaste and a bar of soap. I duck behind the metal bathroom to strip down and clean myself best I can before slipping on one of the robes. It feels even worse when it’s on.

I hear and see the giant coming back from the kitchen, massive plate in hand. I take a deep breath but stay steady at his approach. Good, I’m starting to get more used to this.

He sets the food down a short distance away from me, the ceramic of the plate a loud clang against the wood of the desk. I ignore my quickened heart rate reacting to the noise by commenting loftily, "With all this junk he shrunk down, he could’ve included some more outfit options.”

"Ohh, right, that’s a problem,” Aiden says as he sits down, “Maybe we can get you some doll clothes?”

"That’s alright, I’ll make do.”

He sets a gigantic spoon beside me with little bits of scrambled egg and apple in it, and I realize that I’m starving. I thank him and dig in gratefully, not caring that I’m having to use my hands. I notice after a moment that I’m being observed - there’s a little frown on my new friend’s face as he’s looking me up and down and then his eyes swing over to where I’d left the soap near the teaspoon of water.

"Evie… I could at least have gotten you some warmer water or something.”

“It’s okay. This was fine. You really do make good eggs!”

Aiden still looks bothered but doesn’t push it, eventually mustering a smile instead. “Thanks. It’s one of, like, three meals I have any confidence in…”

Breakfast passes without further incident. It’s a little unnerving at first to watch such large amounts of food disappear into the giant’s mouth like it’s nothing. But strangely enough I get over it fairly quickly. Something about having a meal together like this is comforting. A small slice of normalcy in a very abnormal situation. Soon we’re back to discussing plans for the day as Aiden finishes up.

"Take your time eating, I’ll go get ready to head out. Speaking of which, um… I can try to bring you with me, if you’d like? Though I’m assuming you’d rather stay hidden if you don’t want to make a scene, so… maybe it’s actually safer for you to stay here? Even if some of the machine is still untouched somehow, I don’t think it would be as simple as just…”

He trails off and the air feels a little heavier. Neither one of us is quite ready to think too hard about what will likely come out of investigating the lab today.

I shake my head, breaking the silence. "No, you’re right. I’ll stay here while you scope things out.”

He nods in return, his jaw tight. "I’ll try to hurry back. You sure you don’t need anything before I go?”

“I’m good.”

I stare after him as he goes to get ready, feeling as restless as a dog whose owner is about to go to work. Just as he opens the door to leave the apartment, he turns to shoot me a quick wave and a “see you later.” He’s on the opposite side of the room, so even if I yelled I’m not sure he would have heard my response.

I hate the silence that’s left behind once he’s gone. It makes it harder to ignore the thoughts that are lurking in the depths of my mind, swirling beneath the surface and threatening to devour me. Everything’s too vast, too empty, I feel like I might drown–

No. No tears. It’s time to keep myself occupied.

Phew! It might become difficult to post these on DD, with the file size limit per image and per post it’s becoming a bit of a hassle. I have so much more planned for the series (including their origin story!) but I’m curious - does anyone actually PREFER to view these here? Or is anyone interested in the comic already following me on DeviantArt or Webtoons?

@HHunter1 Thanks for asking! I do want to say that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with writing what appeals to you and then sharing it. It’s what I do, and it makes me happy, and I personally don’t see myself changing on that point. Of course, if your goal is to gain more viewership, or “give back” to the community in any way, that’s great too! In any case I’m happy to share my own personal tastes, but I in no way speak on behalf of the other women here.

So for me, I love the human element. ~Feelings~ and ~drama~ about relationships, from an abusive one to a wholesome one and everything in between.

I say abusive, but that’s another point - I’m personally not into anything too violent. It’s not that I can’t handle death in a story if it feels earned, but it’s definitely a turn off for me. I would love to see more M/f couples who are lovey dovey - they can still be D/s but in a way that feels safe.

Dialogue. I want the characters to talk! They don’t have to communicate particularly well, but I swear I could enjoy a story that is entirely just a conversation.

And I know I’m in the minority here, but gosh do I love micro. Not quite invisible but still below an inch sizes. And not for the unaware aspect or for violent scenarios but for all sorts of situations!

That’s the stuff off the top of my head at least

Chapter 8
Aiden

Really, what was I expecting?

Standing outside of the chemical lab is a little surreal. All of its outer walls are still standing, but glancing down the alley to the side of the building, I can see the charred black where I estimate Dr. Little’s rented room was. There’s a surprising number of people around, many of them just passersby who are stopping to stare. There are a few police officers near the entrance, some having discussions with a couple of people not in uniform - owners of the building maybe. The perimeter is blocked off with black and yellow caution tape. I approach with some hesitation, and one of the more idle officers notices me and walks my way.

“The lab’s closed,” she tells me with a very dismissive tone.

“I know, um… I was actually here when the fire broke out yesterday. I, uh, left some of my stuff in one of the lockers and was hoping to see if I could try to get it back?” Not a complete lie.

She frowns and sighs and I have a feeling I’m not the first person who has tried to get in and snoop. “Wait here,” she tells me.

She steps away to have a brief discussion with a couple of the officers, the three of them all turning to look at me from afar. In the end a different person joins me - a bearded, friendlier-looking man. “Come with me,” he says, lifting the caution tape up so that I can duck underneath it.

We go inside and the intense smell of the smoke and burnt chemicals is nauseating, though I guess nothing truly toxic burned up if they’re letting people come in here without hazmat suits. It looks like the firefighters were able to douse the flames before they spread across the whole building, so the entire right side is eerily empty but intact. I lead the officer to the left.

“If you were near where the fire broke out then you might be out of luck,” the policeman remarks.

“I’m not sure if I was,” I say. This one is a complete lie. “I think I was close but it’s all a bit of a blur…”

“I’ll bet.”

My anxiety rises as we go down the hall, uncomfortable memories rushing back. I look for the familiar white door to the lab room but then suddenly realize that there is no door at all.

“Not something you see every day, is it?” the policeman says as I slow down to peek inside the very obvious scene of the incident. My heart sinks to my stomach.

Everything is in shambles. I can’t even make sense of what’s what - it’s all twisted metal and piles of charred rubble. I think the fire reached some kind of chemical in the cabinets that eventually caused an explosion. Part of the ceiling is caved in, one wall is mostly destroyed, and I see sunlight peeking through a crack in the other wall. There’s more caution tape and the room is clearly mid-investigation, even if it’s empty right now.

“Kinda spooky, right? Apparently someone died in there.”

My heart now leaps up to my throat and my shoulders stiffen. I wasn’t expecting him to announce something like that so plainly. “That’s awful,” I say tightly.

“Sure is. And the weirdest part is that no one knows who he was or what he was up to,” the officer continues in a low, conspiratorial voice. “He was real dodgy and secretive about his experiments, apparently. And now that everything’s destroyed I guess we’ll never really know what he was doing. Apparently something dangerous since it caused a fire.”

What the hell is wrong with this cop? Isn’t this, like, classified information or something? I wonder in a moment of panic if he’s playing mind games with me for some reason, but from what I’ve been gathering about his demeanor… it feels like this guy might just not be very bright.

I try to stay cool while taking advantage of getting potential information, matching his detached tone, “Really? Was this the only place he ran experiments?”

“See, that’s the thing!” He leans in a bit closer, looking excited about sharing the gossip, “No one knows! He used a fake address and fake qualifications when reserving this place, and nobody knows who was sponsoring him. It’s all a big mystery. Real weird stuff.”

“Weird,” I agree, all the while my eyes still searching the destroyed room for any sliver of hope. I find none.

“Anyway, if you work here then I’m sure you’ve already been questioned about it…?” He’s looking at me expectantly and I suddenly realize that he has been trying to wheedle gossip out of me.

“Oh, I’m just a student,” I respond plainly. The officer gets very quiet after that.

Nearby are the lockers, and while half of them still look pretty intact, the ones that Evie and I had used are in the half that got caught in the blast and now looks like the blackened remains of a campfire. So much for that.

I decide after I leave the lab that there are a couple of different errands I should run, so I head back to my apartment building’s garage to get my car. I stop by the bank to request a new credit card. I replace my old phone. I get a temporary driver’s license at the DMV. Meanwhile my mind is a million miles away.

As I sit in the car after what feels like a long morning, I wonder if I should stop by a store for supplies before heading home. I try to think of what Evie might need. She specifically declined my offer to find her doll clothes to wear; it seems kind of rude to ignore her and get them anyway. I can’t think of what else to do for her… I’m feeling really helpless again and my mind starts to spiral…

What am I going to say to her when I get home? It’s been dead end after dead end. Who am I kidding, I’m completely in over my head. There was never a chance that I could fix this on my own. I’m starting to think there might not be anyone who can fix this.

I slump over the curve of the steering wheel, letting my head hang in defeat. I decide to head back to her. It’s almost lunch time anyway.

One short car ride later, taking a quick detour to stop at a taco place so that I don’t have to cook, I get back to my apartment. There’s a flutter of nerves in me as I approach the door - I hope my small friend has been okay on her own.

But my fears were unfounded. I step inside and look towards the desk at the opposite wall, immediately seeing movement on it. I smile as I notice how quickly her little legs are moving… it looks like she’s running out to greet me. That feels really good, at least.

“Hi! It’s getting close to lunch time,” I call out to her as I set my stuff down and slip my shoes off, “Not too hungry?”

I realize my mistake as soon as her voice reaches my ears - she’s yelling loud enough for me to hear her but not quite enough that I can make out the words.

“Sorry, I’m an idiot,” I laugh as I approach the desk, “What did you say?”

“I said I probably have enough food to last all day,” she responds, motioning to the spoon that still has some of today’s breakfast on it.

“Right, I guess I still need to figure out portions. Better than too little I guess?”

“Oh totally, you don’t see me complaining.”

She’s giving me a wide smile and for a second I’m once again overtaken by the cuteness of her size. She looks like a little toy… Though I’m getting better at catching myself at least and I quickly move on.

I notice as I take a seat that a few things have changed on the desk since I left. The shrunken items have all been unpacked, and while most of them are still organized in piles off to the side, it’s like she created little stations for herself too. There’s a chair and table with some books of various sizes stacked onto it, the toiletries are all next to her water source, and anything edible is on its own smaller table by the comparatively massive lamp.

It’s so surreal, seeing this miniature camp easily fitting on the surface of my desk. I’m glad to see that she hasn’t just been wasting away in misery while I was gone. I find myself endeared to her industrious nature.

“You must really like Magic: The Gathering.”

“Huh?” I look back at her again, confused.

“Your shirt,” she says with a teasing smile, pointing towards my chest, “You were wearing a Magic shirt yesterday too.”

“Oh.” That’s right, we had bonded yesterday over card games. Right before our lives changed irrevocably. “I didn’t even realize… You know, I own exactly two Magic shirts. Apparently thought it’d make a good first impression to wear them back to back.” I laugh, a little embarrassed. “I promise I like other stuff.”

“Uh huh. Likely story.”

I grin at her, enjoying this procrastination before we get into what I was up to this morning. But then, due to us talking about clothes, I suddenly notice that Evie’s wearing something new.

It takes me a second to figure it out, but she’s somehow used one long strip of gray fabric to tie around herself, looping over each shoulder and around her torso, and knotted off at the hip to make a rudimentary dress. She definitely looks way more comfortable than she did in that hospital gown thing. I idly wonder where she got the strip of fabric until my eyes fall onto the one other thing that’s different since I’d left.

While half of my office supplies have gradually migrated to my bedroom, the other half is still here on the desk, on the opposite side from where I’d set up Evie. She’s dragged over every bit of fabric from the miniatures into a pile here… Right next to a pair of scissors. A pair of pointy, wide open scissors leaned up against a stapler, a heap of gray fabric still half draped over the sharp metal…

I can feel the color draining from my face as I imagine her miniature frame leaning over the comparatively gigantic blade. “Um, Evie,” I say faintly, “Please don’t tell me you used those scissors.”

Her demeanor changes as her eyes widen and she clasps her hands in front of her. “Was I not supposed to?”

“Are you serious? Th-that’s so dangerous!”

I didn’t raise my voice by much, but it really doesn’t take much, and the tiny girl’s stepping backwards now, shying away as her own voice wavers, “I-I was being really careful. I h-have experience with woodworking a-and building stuff, s-so I just… I thought I could…”

Ah, shit. I’m scaring her. I try to shrink back in my chair and appear less intimidating, taking a steadying breath to relax the muscles in my face. I remind myself that she’s safe, nothing happened, but my heart is still racing as I can’t help imagining the very different scene I could have walked in on if her hand had slipped while cutting the fabric. I feel like a parent who just found their toddler wandering around next to a swimming pool. Which, to be fair, isn’t a very respectful thought.

I lower my voice again and try to sound gentler. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be patronizing or anything. You’re an adult, I’m sure you’re fully capable, but… but accidents happen. I wouldn’t know how to help you if…” I trail off, unable to complete the sentence.

Evie slowly nods, still looking at me fearfully. She doesn’t say anything.

I try to force a smile. “You can let me know if you need help with something like that, okay? If I nick myself all I’d need is a bandaid.”

Her gaze drops down to the desk as she nods again. Her silence is killing me, but then finally she mutters something.

“Sorry?” I ask, leaning in.

She takes a deep breath and raises her head, summoning her resolve. “I just want to be able to… to do things myself. I don’t want to bother you every time I need something.”

“What? It’s not a bother at all.”

Her gaze drifts down again. “It’s a bother to me…”

I watch her for a moment, trying to find the right words. For being the larger person, I sure have been feeling a whole lot of helplessness lately. I know this entire thing is a bigger conversation. One that ties into what we needed to discuss anyway…

A wave of sadness passes through me. I want to keep putting this off. I want to go back to bantering about breakfast lasagna. I want to actually get to know her. To keep her for a little longer.

But it’s time to face the music.

“I think… we need to talk.”

S+P 43 - This One’s Very Sappy

@i-am-insane Okay your concept is great, and it isn’t the same as this, but dammit we both said Steve Irwin and now I can’t not share part of a discussion I had recently

I was doodling these two and decided to slap this together, as a promo pic I guess?

(Also, I’m still new to this whole posting images thing, here’s hoping this turns out okay!)

@Olo I’ll toss out my own opinion on this one! To explain how I think of it in very broad strokes, “male gaze” to me is more of a focus on the physical (in the past when I’ve RP’d with dudes, most of the time they would ask me what my character was wearing - just as an example). Whereas “female gaze” feels like it has a bit more of a focus on the emotional - inner monologues, slow burns, angst. At least this is what I’ve gathered from the stuff I’ve read and the demographics of the different communities I’ve been a part of. Obviously this is a big generalization and all genders can enjoy any of it~

Chapter 40
Evie

Stepping up to the mouth of the stadium-sized cavern gives me a wave of dizziness. Entering such a dark, vast space by myself is creating so much anxiety that I almost turn back around. But going back to Aiden after being so insistent with him doesn’t feel like an option right now. I try to summon my courage, and all it takes is looking back to the floor, to the sliver of red plastic that had caught my attention in the first place, and my determination floods back.

It’s twenty feet away from me, and the reason it wasn’t destroyed becomes apparent right away. Due to the heat of the fire and whatever explosion happened in here, there’s a crack in the concrete floor, and the flash drive fell right in before something else fell on top of it. Whatever was covering it up must have protected it long enough for the fire to get put out. There’s no way I would have even seen it if I hadn’t gotten so low to the ground to be able to peer into the crack.

After I take a couple of hesitant steps, I flinch at the sound of Aiden’s voice echoing into the room. “Watch out, there’s a whole lot of shattered glass there. Just to your left, can you see that?”

I look in that direction and sure enough, one of the rocks strewn about is clearly glinting in the low light. “Roger that,” I call back, “It is pretty dark in here… Can you see me?”

I turn to look at the wall, trailing my gaze up the length of the crack we’d been looking through. About fifty feet up is a patch of my giant friend’s face, the color of his eye appearing almost black in the darkness.

“Sort of, I can see movement…” he responds, shifting to try and get a better view, “Oh wait, duh. Hold on, let me give you some light.”

A moment later, the space I’m in gets fully illuminated, and when I look back to the door I came through I have to squint. Aiden’s just turned on his phone’s flashlight and leaned the device up against the entrance.

“Is that better?”

“Much better, thank you!” I say emphatically, looking around.

This not only makes it easier to see, but I’m more able to ignore the vastness of the rest of the room as it recedes into almost pitch blackness. I’m just focused on my immediate surroundings now. Though I do nervously see the hundreds of pieces of aforementioned glass to my left, and I also realize even smaller pieces are littering the floor around me, some shards small enough for me to step on. I really, really need to make myself some shoes.

Shivering from the sharp chill in the air, I carefully pad my way through, my legs already getting covered in ash just from walking around in here. I make it to the fissure, ducking under the overhang of debris that covers it. There it is down below me, and now I’m much more confident that it is indeed a flash drive. The plastic surface just has a couple of small scratches on it, it otherwise looks miraculously undamaged. And it’s the kind that has a cap to protect the USB plug too.

My heart rate picks up with excitement. With any luck, this thing still works. With even more luck there’s useful information on it.

“Evie?” Aiden asks apprehensively, “You just disappeared, everything okay?”

I sigh, a bit exasperated by the rather large distraction outside. But I don’t blame him for worrying, I should probably be talking him through what I’m doing. I pop my head back out into the open.

“It’s under here!” I call, “There’s a crack in the concrete and it’s inside. This might take a minute, but everything’s fine.”

I peer into the crevice in the ground, trying to gauge the space. The concrete itself is about five or six inches thick so it’s quite a bit taller than I am, but the dirt underneath the slab has been pushed up in places, making it more accessible. The fissure’s walls are uneven enough to create plenty of climbing holds, so I slip into the narrow opening and slowly make my way into the earth without much issue. By now my arms and clothes are getting pretty dirty too. Yep, I’ll definitely be taking a bath after this.

The flash drive is a rounded rectangle shape that’s four feet long to me, so it’s going to be rather unwieldy to drag across the ground. But first I have to get it out of the crevice. It’s already leaned up against the side of the concrete, so I crouch down and hook my arms under one end before pushing upwards. The other end reaches the opening. I hear Aiden outside comment, “Whoa, I see it!” and his excitement gives me a boost of adrenaline as I heave.

And then my heart sinks as there’s a dull, jolting thump. I was able to squeeze in here. But the flash drive won’t fit through the hole, it’s getting blocked by the debris overhead.

Cursing, I take another minute to keep trying, maneuvering it in different angles, until I let the thing collapse and am left breathing hard from the effort. The hole is just barely too small. I’m so close.

“What’s up?” the giant outside asks as I scramble back out of the crevice.

“It won’t fit,” I respond in frustration. I spend some time trying to push against the piece of rubble that’s laying overtop the crack. It’s a chunk of charred wood and melted plastic that’s probably no larger than a baseball to the average person, but to me it’s as big as a pickup truck. I shove against it as hard as I can but it doesn’t even budge.

“Umm, let me think,” Aiden says as he watches me, “Maybe if I find a stick, I can push on it from the outside?”

That’s not a bad idea. I look back towards the entrance, squinting against the flashlight. But the crack that I slipped through to get here was fairly narrow, I wonder if a wooden stick that’s thin enough to fit would still be strong enough to help. Not to mention the fact that this spot is off to the side and there are some obstacles in the way, it’d be a tricky maneuver.

“There isn’t anything right here that I can use, though,” he laments, “and I don’t want to leave you by yourself to find something… How about you come back and we try again on a different day? Now that we know about it we can come better equipped.”

The idea of walking away from this thing when it’s right in front of me is painful. Aiden’s probably right, but I still don’t want to give up just yet…

“Hold on,” I say, “Maybe I’m the one who needs a tool.”

I start looking around at the rubble a little more critically. Most of what I see are unrecognizable bits of brittle metal, burnt wood and reformed plastic. I carefully step over more glass as I spot something long and thin - I brush some of the ash off and realize it’s a half-melted pen. A plan starts forming in my head and I drag this back to the offending obstacle.

Using a small rock as a fulcrum, I jam the end of the pen under the boulder-like chunk and push down on the other side of the lever as hard as I can. I put my entire weight on it, straining every muscle in my body, and still… nothing.

I collapse against the pen for a few seconds as I try to catch my breath, hissing out frustrated curses. I glare at the boulder, imagining how easy it would be for Aiden’s hand to push it out of the way, or even just pick it up, with no issue. I hate. Being. Small.

All the more reason to get to that flash drive.

With renewed vigor I get up and continue looking around. Think. What else can I do here? I start scanning all the memories I have of being in the woodworking shop back in high school. Wondering if any of the problems I had to solve back then might apply to right now. Could I wear away at the obstacle instead and widen the hole? Maybe if I had some kind of miniature sander - you know, that classic dollhouse accessory. Could I chip away at it with a rudimentary hammer and chisel? Maybe if I had five months to spare.

I come across something flat and metallic in the debris, and as I wipe off the dust I realize it’s a ruler. It’s damaged but I can still see some of the numbers on it. Whoa… I’d been told that I was three inches tall but had never seen the measurement for myself. Seeing it so plainly in front of me is pretty sobering.

But then I’m struck with a thought. I look back towards the pen that was useless to me. What do I know about levers? If I’m struggling to pull a nail out with the claw of a hammer… Get a bigger hammer. A longer lever.

I step onto the other side of the ruler and begin to push. It’s very thin and made even more so by the heat, but it’s just as dense, and it’s metal, so it’s still quite heavy to me. It’s also literally four times my height in length, so I have to push one end, then run over to the other end to slowly inch the structure across the floor.

“Please don’t hurt yourself,” Aiden’s voice calls to me softly. I can tell he’s trying to be patient and let me do this, but I’m not sure how much longer I can justify it.

It takes me another few minutes to drag the ruler the couple of inches over to where I need it, and then I shove one end underneath a small gap in the obstacle I’m wanting to move. After thinking things through for a minute, I grab my fulcrum rock and bring it to the far side of the ruler, away from the looming boulder. Using every bit of strength I have, I lift up the end of the metal plank, just high enough for me to shove the rock underneath with my foot. Even though I’ve managed to avoid all the broken glass, my legs are getting pretty scratched up now. But at least I’m making progress.

I get down onto the ground so that I can start pushing the rock along the bottom of the ruler, moving the fulcrum closer and closer to the obstacle to get maximum torque. It’s exhausting, and despite the cold in the air I’m now covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but I push through, knees and feet scraping against the concrete as my arms shake. By the time I make it as far as I can go, the high side of the lever is level with my chin. I run back to it and reach my hands up, and I push down as hard as I can.

There’s a shifting this time. It’s just the slightest bit of movement but it’s budging. I jump up, put my entire weight on the end of the lever, but I’m just not heavy enough. God, I’m so close.

“Evie…” the giant whispers, and from a quick glance to him I can tell he’s looking down the alleyway nervously.

“Wait,” I gasp, “Sorry, let me just try one last thing!”

If I’m not heavy enough, maybe I just need more weight. I find another rock and push it up the length of the ruler, then another one, then another, creating a pile at the top of the lever. It’s a messy process, the rocks threatening to topple off on more than one occasion, but I can tell it’s making a difference. Finally as I carry one more rock up, I feel the tension starting to practically vibrate beneath my feet. And that’s the moment that I try leaping up into the air and landing down as hard as I can.

It works. The boulder-like obstacle doesn’t roll away, but it slides to the side just a tad, the ruler slipping out from underneath it and causing me to crash to the ground. I can hear a sharp, concerned inhale from Aiden but I ignore him, immediately back on my feet as I rush over to the crevice.

I climb back down to the flash drive, needing to pause and take a few breaths after all that exertion. It’s time to push this thing up.

I’m so close. I’m so goddamn close. The hole is bigger, it looks like it’ll be a perfect fit, I push the end of the flash drive through… and then it gets stuck. The gap still isn’t quite wide enough. Once the rounded corners pass through, I feel resistance once again.

But it’s just by a hair. And I’ve come this far. I don’t care that my body’s about to give out, I have to do this. With a surge of adrenaline and a cry of exertion, I shove with everything that’s in me. The obstacle above me shudders and shifts… and then it shifts a lot more than I was expecting. Apparently when I’d pushed the boulder with the lever I had moved it into a precarious balance. And now it finally rolls a quarter turn to the side.

What I didn’t know about was the pile of ash and dirt that was trapped on top of the piece of rubble. Which now all comes tumbling down into the crevice in one solid wave. Burying me alive.

Oooo such a good question and I love seeing the responses! I do enjoy quite a variety. A romantic relationship is at the top for me, but I do love me some sweet platonic friendships too. Or for the giant to be in a more villainous role, though I don’t have any interest in giants seeing the tinies as disposable (maybe as a threat, but actual death is a total turnoff for me).

Weirdly I’m not as much into existing couples dealing with shrinking, usually because the content I’ve seen where that is the case tends to be rather sad? But I’d be totally open to exploring that, I’ve got a couple of stories on the ol’ idea list with that premise. And it’s definitely what I would go for if we’re talking a bit more realistic - I’d love for me and my partner to explore the possibilities of a shrink ray!

I think the biggest thing for me when it comes to stories is wanting some form of a happy ending. I think that’s why I tend to gravitate towards gentle stories - a couple that forms despite the size differences, the journey of learning to trust, the beauty of them figuring out how to be together and make it work. That gets a little trickier when it comes to me wanting to explore my darker side too with noncon/dubcon scenarios. If the ending is just “she died” or “she was his slave for the rest of her life” it sorta leaves a bad taste in my mouth. But I’m a sucker for redemption arcs and rescue fantasies and the like. 🥰 And I guess there’s something to be said for fleeting moments as opposed to full fledged stories. A picture of a giant looming over his victim threateningly with a smirk on his face is absolutely up my alley, no matter what their relationship is (and then I just don’t really think about the potential bad ending there).

Still working on OotE part 3 (plus another lil secret project…), but I was finding myself wanting to take breaks from the fluff and the angst and work on this side story that um… let’s just say it’s decidedly not a slow burn. I hope you enjoy this bit of self indulgent smut You can expect dubcon, lil bit of foot stuff, lil bit of mouth stuff, lots of handhelds and shrinking, including micro sizes.

Chapter 1

I can feel my eyes cross as we enter the second hour of my Macroeconomics class. I’ve heard enough about real versus nominal GDP to last me a lifetime and yet, we’re still here. My professor’s actually doing a decent job at sounding enthusiastic, it’s not his fault that the subject is as dull as all get-out. It also doesn’t help that this class runs until 6pm and all I can think about is which of the many fast food options I’ll be stopping by on the way back to my dorm.

One of my hands lingers around my shoulder, fidgeting as usual. I’m wearing an oversized hoodie so my fingers only barely poke out of their sleeve, fiddling with the end of one of my braids. At least it’s a change of pace from twirling my pencil or my habit of meticulously examining the little details of my environment, but the boredom is a tough contender nevertheless.

Ten minutes later, after having completely escaped into the slightly more interesting world of my own brain, I almost jump out of my seat at the sudden sound of a chair being pulled back right next to me. Who the hell is showing up to class with only thirty minutes left? I glance over to my left and almost choke on my own spit.

Ryder Gatlin. The man, the myth, the legend himself. This guy is pretty much a school celebrity. Swim team star. Campus heartthrob. Future billionaire, probably. I’m only saying that because I happen to know he comes from money, and with all his other talents there’s no way he won’t succeed in life. Even if he’s apparently the farthest thing from punctual - he has enough confidence and charm that it doesn’t matter. Our professor does little more than shoot him a mildly disapproving look, hardly pausing at all in the lesson.

I curse inwardly even though on the outside I’m giving the latecomer a quick, friendly smile. Ryder returns the silent greeting, his sky blue eyes locking right into mine. I quickly look back down at my notes, picking my pencil up with renewed vigor, but I don’t pay any more attention to the class than I did a minute ago. I’m now far too distracted by the dominating presence of the tall, handsome, laid-back man to my left. I hate the effect that he has on me. It makes me feel so… basic. I frown down at my notebook, feigning concentration, as I adamantly scold myself for giving any shits about this guy.

He’s not even taking notes or anything. He just sits back in his chair, staring politely at the professor up front with a gentle smile on his face. Not that I’m able to tell whether he’s actually smiling or not - I’m concentrating on my notes, remember? But he always has that smile. Like he knows something the rest of us don’t, just the slightest upturn of the corners of his mouth. It drives me insane in more ways than one.

The next half hour is agony, not to mention a complete waste of time since I’m not absorbing any of the lesson. Six o’clock finally rolls around and at long last we’re dismissed. I snatch my backpack up from the floor and stand up to start packing my things away.

I’m interrupted by a smooth, rich voice. “Hey.”

Sigh… Of course. My shoulders stiffen but I don’t stop moving, unzipping a pocket to tuck my writing utensils into. I give him a cursory glance.

"What’s up?” I ask.

“I’m trying to remember your name… Isabella?” His voice has this quiet strength to it, like the purr of a tiger. Commanding my attention even as I try to focus on my stuff.

“No ‘a’. Just Isabelle," I respond.

“Ah, that’s right. I’m Ryder.”

I finally pause long enough to look at him straight on. My heart flutters in my chest. The dark copper of his hair contrasts so beautifully against the blue of his eyes. I’m actually jealous of it. I happen to have almost the exact same shade of brown hair, but my eyes are so dark they’re almost black. Nowhere near as striking as his.

“Yeah, I know," I tell him, "We’ve had a couple of classes together.”

“Have we? All the better.”

I try to ignore the painful pang in my chest at the knowledge that he hardly seems to remember me at all, despite this not being our first conversation by a long shot. Meanwhile I remember the exact spot he normally sat at in all four of the classes I’ve been in with him. Ugh, how pathetic is that…

“Listen, do you think you could help me out, Isabelle?" he continues, “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I was really delayed getting here today. Think you could help me catch up on that first half of the lesson?”

He actually missed quite a bit more than the first half. But whatever. “Um… I don’t have enough time now, I was needing to head home to–”

“Not right now," Ryder says with a hint of amusement, as if what I’d said was ridiculous. “Tonight. Go have some dinner, fuel up. Meet me at my dorm room in an hour?"

Fucking… what?

I’m too stunned to notice where he pulls a piece of paper from, but it’s suddenly in his hand and he sets it down in front of me on the desk. Then he bends down to grab his own backpack and sling it over one shoulder.

“Appreciate it. See you then, Isabelle."

I stare after him, completely dumbfounded as he turns and strolls right out of the room. What the hell just happened? I look down at the scrap of paper in front of me and, sure enough, there’s the name of one of the on-campus dorms and a room number. I actually have to sit back down, even as everyone else has been filtering out of the class, so that I can pick up the paper and feel that it’s real. He didn’t even leave his phone number or any other kind of information.

There’s no way he’s inviting me over to study. I mean, right? But the alternative makes even less sense. I’m not the type of girl who randomly gets invited by a classmate for a booty call. Put aside my mud-colored eyes or the fact that I lack a thigh gap, but I’m about as mousy as they come. I don’t exactly ooze confidence nor the air of someone who sleeps around. Why would Ryder Gatlin have any interest in a girl like me, especially if he believes we’ve barely met? Honestly, maybe it makes more sense if he really does just want to study.

But also, what makes him think I’ll take him up on this?? I have shit to do! I have my own homework. The fact that he thinks I would just drop any evening plans and be ready to meet up with him in an… hour? It’s ludicrous.

My shoulders droop as I suddenly think of another explanation. This could just be some sort of mean prank. A hot, popular guy reaching out to a shy, bookish girl? I can already picture it in my mind’s eye… I show up. Knock on the door. Some random dude answers it, looking confused. Ryder’s there with a bunch of his buds and acts like he has no idea who I am, and they all have a good laugh about it as they mock the idea that someone like me thought she had any kind of chance with someone like him.

This is so stupid. I need to get home. I finally finish grabbing my things and hurry out of the classroom. I head in the exact opposite direction of the dorm that’s scribbled on the paper I still have in my hand, now crushed into a misshapen ball. I feel like I’m walking through a dream. I hardly taste my chicken sandwich and I find myself absently checking the time every few minutes. My mind keeps harassing me with the question “But what if…?”

I check the time once more right as I step into the front lobby of my own dorm building. Ten minutes until seven. Ryder’s dorm is a ten minute walk. The doors of opportunity are closing quickly, and that honestly should be a relief. I need to move on, get started on my Data Analysis homework, forget about all of this nonsense. It might be a bit awkward the next time I see him in class, but I could easily tell him that I had previously scheduled plans that I didn’t immediately think of in the moment and wasn’t able to make it. He couldn’t even blame me for not letting him know since he didn’t give me any contact information. I just need to walk over to that elevator and go back to my room and…

Who the fuck am I kidding.

I wasn’t quite in control of myself when I turned and marched right back out the front doors. Once I’m outside, I take a deep breath in to steady myself. God, I feel so stupid right now, but I’m just too damn curious. I start power walking across the north end of campus as the sun begins to set, my mind buzzing with nonsensical thoughts that do little good in talking any sense into me. I double check that I still have pepper spray in my purse, and I text a couple of friends to let them know exactly where I’m headed. Out of all the outcomes that could come of this, I highly doubt that getting murdered by such a high-profile student in his own dorm room is at all likely. But one can never be too careful.

I’ve never been in this building before, and as I step inside I quickly gather why that is… I think this is an all-male dorm. Lovely. As if I didn’t already feel out of place. Not only that but the glass door leading in to the rooms themselves is protected by a card reader. How does he expect me to come to his room without helping me get past the lobby first? This is another sign that I shouldn’t be here, I should just turn around and forget about all this. But apparently I’ve left all of my good judgment back in that classroom an hour ago.

There’s enough traffic going in and out of the doors that I’m able to sneak through without too much trouble, despite clearly not belonging here. None of the men around me seem to take much notice of me, to my infinite relief. Maybe it’s not uncommon for female students to sneak in to meet up with their boyfriends or something. Which is not at all what I’m doing, I remind myself.

I decided on the way here that I would at least pretend at first that I really did only come to study and then… I’ll see how things go. After going up two flights of stairs I find the right room number and, without giving myself any time to reconsider this, I knock.

Immediately a voice calls out from inside. “Come in.”

This is the moment that I hesitate. I stare at the doorknob for a couple of seconds. I’m not even really considering turning back at this point, the fact that I’ve made myself known makes that feel like it’s not an option anymore. It’s more like I’m bracing myself. For what, I’m not really sure but… whew. Here goes.

I do enjoy a bit of temporary unaware scenarios! I get a bit bored if a story is entirely unaware, especially since it usually ends in death if that’s the case, so I always say that I’m not into unaware. But this thread is highlighting the fact that that’s not actually true - if there’s eventually a moment of discovering then I love it for all the reasons mentioned!

I also enjoy how it plays into my love of micro. The idea that I’m not hiding from him - in fact I’m doing everything I can to get his attention and he still doesn’t notice me?? So terrifying and thrilling. And being discovered in that situation, even if he clearly isn’t a cruel person, is still very scary due to the size difference.

I also like a bit of semi-awareness, if that makes sense. Not so much getting mistaken for a bug or something (that’s actually a bit of a pet peeve of mine because I feel like if she’s big enough to be seen/noticed, the shape/color of her should also be apparent enough to recognize that she’s not an insect… But I digress.) I’m more referring to scenarios where he is aware that she’s around but loses track of her somehow. Whether it’s a cat and mouse type hunt, or a silly teasing type game, or he’s legitimately worried and fretfully searching, I love those moments. Gah one of my favorite lines to hear from a giant (that could be said in all kinds of tones) is “ah, there you are” 🫠