Best posts made by littlest-lily

@blehb Yes yes YES I love the way you think!!

I’ve been pondering it a bit too and part of the appeal for me is the fact that I really love it when the giant is talking - taunting me by telling me what he’ll do, or marveling at how small I am and how much smaller I’ll get, asking me how it feels, ordering me around, etc. But if there are multiple giants (whether they’re the same size and both playing with me together, or there’s multisize going on with varying power dynamics), that also unlocks the potential for more dialogue. Not just being talked to or talked at, but them talking amongst each other, and I’m forced to listen helplessly while they discuss what they want to do to me next. Just thinking about it is making me melt~

My little friend grins and scoots sideways before shoving lightly at the edge of my thumb. “Flip your hand over,” she orders, and I do so, slowly pivoting in place at the wrist. And before I know it she’s climbing aboard, as confident and trusting as anything. I marvel at the feeling of her limbs causing gentle pressure as she crawls to the center of my palm and then takes a cross-legged seat.

“Ta da! Look at that. You’re holding me,” she exclaims with her arms up in the air in celebration. “How’re you doing? Feel okay?”

For a moment I let my eyes shut again so that I can go back to focusing wholly on the physical sensations, and it strikes me just how much I need to concentrate. “You barely weigh a thing…” I murmur.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” she says, as casually as if I’d told her she had a unique name. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get launched into the stratosphere if you try to lift me up.”

“Stop reading my mind,” I chuckle. Here’s hoping that my laughing doesn’t shake her too much. I feel like every micro movement must be jarring.

Naomi lifts up onto her knees, looking as if she’s gauging something. “Actually, here, my leg isn’t that messed up… I can climb up to your shoulder.”

“W-what?!” I startle at the suggestion.

“Just hold still?” she says, already starting to crawl towards my wrist.

I get swept up in her self-assured demeanor and don’t give myself the opportunity to second guess it. “Okay…”

And then all I can really do is become a statue as I quickly lose track of the tiny figure - I just feel her hands and feet as she swiftly makes her way up my arm the second I give consent. Thankfully there isn’t too much of a slope but still, I’m impressed by how quickly she moves. My forearm lights up with goosebumps from the tickle of her passing over the inside of my elbow. Soon I’m feeling particularly self conscious as she gets so incredibly close that I can hear her faintly labored breathing approaching my left ear. And then I stop sensing her skin against mine when she meets the sleeve of my hospital gown, there’s just her minute shifting weight until she reaches my shoulder. I glance sidelong at her and briefly get a good look of her smiling my way. My tunnel of vision doesn’t encircle anything past her face, but I can still see her whole face, even though she’s just a couple of inches away… So surreal.

And then Naomi ducks out of sight as she comes too close to my neck for me to see her easily, and I feel her limbs against my skin once more. She hunkers down on the inside of the hospital gown’s collar, grunting with satisfaction as she takes a seat.

“There we go!” she exclaims, “Still doing okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” I’m still not budging, and I’m afraid of speaking or even breathing in her direction, as if I might blow her over or hurt her eardrums.

“You can talk normally,” she giggles, and then she adds, “Ahhh crap.”

“What’s wrong?” I mutter.

“I forgot my bag on the table. Hey, you want to try grabbing it for me?”

“Uhhhh…” I briefly scan the tabletop, but it’s a sea of grayish brown. “You’re gonna have to help me.”

“Like piloting a mech! Hehe. Okay, move your hand slightly to the left… A little further back… There, did you feel that?”

Her knapsack is so small that it takes a few attempts of my fingers running over what feels like an oversized lump of lint until I manage to pinch it into my grasp. Hopefully there’s nothing fragile in there.

I lift my hand up to my shoulder mindfully - this would be a particularly bad time to knock my friend clean off of me. I pin my wrist against my chest, and Naomi is able to reach from there to extricate her parcel from my grip.

“You rocked that!” she cheers before reclaiming her seat, her voice practically musical with her enthusiasm. She is having way too much fun with this.

“If I didn’t know better,” I say with a smirk, “I might think you left that behind on purpose.”

“Good thing you know better then,” she teases and gives my neck a playful shove. “Alright. You want to try standing up?”

“…Not really?”

“Cameron, you could literally fall over and I’d be fine. That exact thing has happened before, I know I can hang on. Just pretend I’m not here.”

I can’t decide on whether that anecdote is more reassuring or alarming. I’m curious about what happened, I’ll have to ask her later. But for now… Moment of truth.

I’m quite stiff as I slowly start shifting to the side, insanely aware of the way Naomi has to constantly redistribute her weight as I move. Though maintaining her balance does seem like it’s second nature to her… The IV pulls at my arm so I renegotiate the way the tubes hang. I swing one leg over the side of the bed, then the other, finding my footing on the cold floor.

“Going up,” I mutter.

“You’ve got this,” Naomi adds.

I push into my legs, my entire abdomen briefly complaining from the effort of my rising. I reflexively reach for the nearby IV pole, and while I don’t have any difficulty finding it, I make the mistake of putting too much weight on it. I slip.

I fall a few inches as the wheeled pole rolls away from me, and I catch myself on the portion of the bed that’s tilted up, my fingers digging into the mattress. My curse comes out in a hiss as my heart rate skyrockets.

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Naomi says quickly, like she’s just my physical therapist taking me through some exercises.

“I’m not worried about if I’m okay,” I growl, and I use the bed this time to balance myself as I finally finish standing. I look down and to the side, worriedly trying to catch sight of my tiny passenger.

“Oh. I’m okay too,” she laughs, clearly unperturbed.

That’s good. I just stand there for several moments, trying to settle my nerves and adjust to the feeling of being on my feet. Overall, though… This is reassuring. Naomi didn’t go flying, those little hands really are able to hold on tight. Maybe I can try taking just a couple of steps…

I give her a warning before I slowly test out my legs again, one hand rolling the IV pole along while the other trails against the side of the bed in case I fall again. The pain in my abdomen recedes as I get into a groove, my whole body settling into a dull ache after having spent so much time sedentary. Just one foot in front of the other.

“There you go,” Naomi says encouragingly, and then she quickly cuts in with, “Oh wait, stop.”

I freeze in place, not even risking putting my foot down into my next step. “What is it?” I fret helplessly.

“Nothing, but you’re about to knock against something with your IV. Bring it slightly towards you… No, like to the left but a bit further back… Yeah, like that. And then get ready to move more to the right soon, so that you don’t hit the bathroom door…”

And so, awkwardly, we start cooperating as I continue taking slow steps. Without my cane I’m reflexively holding my IV pole ahead of me to help sense my way, but I’m mostly just relying on Naomi’s direction right now. And although it takes much longer than it would for an average person, I successfully make the journey to the other side of the room. I spot the bright colors of what must be some kind of medical poster, and when I reach out, my fingertips make contact with a wall.

“Hell YES!” Naomi whoops, kicking her legs against my shoulder in excitement.

“We made it,” I mutter in disbelief. Since I’ve lost my vision I have literally never walked across a new space without tripping over something midway.

And then before I know it, we’re heading back in the other direction. A gentle coaching at my ear. One step after another. The slightest bit faster this time. Bit by bit, until I can reach out and touch the hospital bed once more.

I’m still walking with one finger trailing on the mattress when I suddenly feel a warmth against my neck. Naomi has scooted a bit closer to me to lean against it with a sigh. “That makes me happy,” she says.

“That we’re almost back across?” I ask, glancing in her direction.

“No. Just that your shoulder’s finally unclenched.”

And there’s the other wall. I touch it, staring wide-eyed down towards my feet, still struggling to take in the relative ease with which I just crossed the room despite no one holding onto my arm.

Naomi gently strokes the side of my neck before she sits back up again. “Okay, you want to put me down again?” she offers, her voice tinged with disappointment. “If you want you can drop me back off at my own room right now so that we can be done.”

Oh. Right. After getting caught up in what felt like learning how to walk for the first time, I’d stopped thinking about what we were even doing this for.

“Actually…” I say sheepishly, turning my head towards my unconventional guide. “Do you think you can help me fill my water cup first?”

I can hardly believe it myself just how much and how quickly I’ve come around on this new experience, and my enthusiasm is only matched by hers. We spend another twenty minutes together, practicing this new way of navigating the world. Naomi’s also finding her own rhythm, and soon we get accustomed enough to it that she doesn’t need nearly as many words to direct me. We’re able to continue chatting about everything and nothing as I not only obtain more water but also get myself a snack from my backpack in the corner, and then tidy some of my mom’s belongings for when she comes back to visit tonight.

But my weakened body eventually begins feeling quite sore, and we also start worrying that someone should be coming by pretty soon to check my vitals again. This has been great and all, but the idea of actively trying to hide my shrunken friend somewhere is probably a step too far for me. And so we make one last trip, this time to the exit.

“Hand out,” Naomi directs, “Door handle’s to the left… left… down…”

“Got it.” I lower my voice as I open the door and peer out into the hallway. According to the better pair of eyes at my shoulder, the coast is clear. Furtively I head down a couple of doors, keeping one hand on the wall.

I’m frankly sad that our hangout is coming to an end. This was so… so nice. The way we’ve been able to get around symbiotically is exciting, for sure, and I find myself imagining what it might be like to have my own little private navigation system all the time. But more than anything else, I’ve really enjoyed our conversations. I like her, and I’d like to get to know her better. I’ll have to come back and visit once I’m out of the hospital. Maybe I could even end up taking her on an outing or something so she can get some fresh air. I wonder… I wonder if she might ever be open to–

“I’ve been thinking,” the voice at my ear suddenly pipes up as I walk. It snaps me out of my reverie about what it might be like to have a miniature roomate, since her tone has gone uncharacteristically serious. “About what you said earlier. About how it seems like I’m not bothered by my condition.”

I grimace at my own faux pas from earlier and quickly say, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking at all when I–”

“No no, it’s just, I’m realizing… that you might be right?” she interjects avidly, “Like, obviously I’d much rather be my old self again. Being this small sucks. But from the beginning I was told that this is almost certainly permanent. And after some time, I accepted it. My friends would get really frustrated with me - they’d tell me not to give up hope, that the doctors would find a cure, that I’ll be able to go back to my normal life one day… But they didn’t understand.”

At this point my fingers have already passed over the bump of the doorway that is our destination. But I’ve paused so I can listen, craning my neck back to look down at Naomi.

She’s smiling as widely as ever. “They didn’t get that me accepting my reality wasn’t me giving up. Quite the opposite, actually… I think that’s how I ‘do it.’” She shrugs. “It’s the only advice I’ve got.”

I smile back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thanks for helping me feel useful today, Cameron.”

“Yeah… Right back atcha. Thanks for the visit.”

I open the door to her room, hoping that I’m not bothering the other patient here, but from the sound of snoring coming from by the window I think we’re okay. Naomi directs me to the shelf that’s to the immediate left, and after I feel around I find what I surmise is her “shoebox,” a clear plastic tank of sorts. I raise my free hand up to my shoulder in invitation, anchoring my pinkie against my collar bone.

Naomi slides off her perch, stepping lightly into my palm, and asks, “You’ll be okay getting back?”

There’s no arm bridge this time, I have to do this myself. But I’m not feeling nearly as panicked now. Slowly I lower my hand along my body, tiny girl in tow, as I respond, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I feel good.”

“You’ve got this,” Naomi says enthusiastically before I sense her warm weight hop off of my hand again and onto the shelf. “See you tomorrow!”

If this were any other friend, my reply might have poked fun at the expression. But I realize, as my tunnel of vision perfectly encircles the grinning face below me, that for the first time in a long while I’m able to give a completely genuine response.

“See you then.”

Phew, I always forget about the character limit on DD, hopefully I broke that up in OK spots

I was taking a break from writing Out of their Element with all the crazy life happenings going on, when I was suddenly inspired to write this story that’s been bouncing around in my head for a little while. It was such a pleasure and the perfect way to stretch out those writing muscles again~ (and while I’m still insanely busy and the progress is slow, the momentum has spilled over to Oote too so hooray!) Also, a huge thank you to my friend and sensitivity reader on this

By the way, I made an AO3 account if you’d prefer to follow my stories there! https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlest_lily

Just curious about what are everyone’s favorite ways of picking up your tiny lady friend! Or conversely for us little ones, your favorite way of getting picked up by a giant?

Things like - voluntarily walking onto an open hand? Pinching her torso between two fingers? Scooping her up into the palm? Wrapping fingers around her entire body? Grabbing the leg and dangling her? Forcing her to climb up the length of the body to reach the hand?

Or any other way I’m not thinking of right now! I suppose it would also make a difference depending on her size. Maybe a fist around the waist or gently pinching her entire body between finger and thumb might be more appropriate.

I think for me it’s either getting scooped up into the palm or having fingers wrap around me like a big, warm hug.

@BigGrumpy I’ve had that thought before, of what if I could send myself somewhere through a webcam and just stumble out on someone’s desk.

Chapter 6
Aiden

I stare at the next page in the journal, the title at the top immediately catching my attention: “Human Trials.” Something about seeing that on paper gives me a horrible sinking sensation in my stomach.

There are a few separate entries, each of them quite lengthy. It looks like Dr. Little wasn’t lying about the fact that Evie was the fourth test subject. There are paragraphs of notes about the other three, detailing not so much measurements and data but qualitative information - how they behaved and reacted. I notice that all of them were women. As I continue to read… I really start to feel sick.

He would take them back to his home for “extended study.” But I’m not even sure he cared so much about actually studying much of anything; the types of experiments he documented didn’t seem to be about scientific research. Things like seeing how they’d react to extreme hot or cold, or being tied up for hours at a time. He doesn’t go into all of the details in his notes, but the further I delve the more it sounds like the experiments were actually more like… punishments. As if he was training them, somehow, like they were animals to domesticate. He’d go on about their beauty and… my brain starts to fill in the gaps. I don’t think the fact that Evie’s really pretty is a coincidence.

I try not to linger too long on any one sentence, just pushing through as I desperately hope to find some indication of him restoring these girls. But what I find instead is far more horrifying.

The first of them didn’t make it through a “stress test.”

The second ended up jumping off a table while his back was turned.

The third had never stopped shrinking.

My hands are trembling as I keep reading. All of the test trials had gone through some sort of issue where the machinery didn’t work quite right, resulting in each of the subjects not reaching the target size for the test, particularly so for the third. Dr. Little rants about this for a couple of paragraphs, venting his frustration in stilted lines on the page, about the complexities of the shrinking process for humans being too much to juggle on his own in the lab. At the bottom, in capital letters, underlined twice, he wrote “NEED ASSISTANT.”

I worry I might actually throw up. With shaky fingers I shut the book quietly and try to take a deep breath. After more than two hours of sitting here, the sun starting to set outside, I’ve reached the end of the notes with nothing to show for it. I’m shocked at the horrors that I was unknowingly going to be complicit to, and I’m completely losing hope.

It’s at this point that I look back towards the ottoman, expecting to see my classmate meticulously working as usual. But instead I see hundreds of miniscule items, fully categorized into rows and groups, a perfectly organized display… but the girl who’s sorted them is off to the side, sitting with her back to me. Head in her hands. Her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs that are too quiet for me to hear.

It’s been a long, stressful, life-changing kind of day. I think about the other victims of the shrinking process. What could have potentially happened if Dr. Little got his way with Evie today. And then, even though I hardly know this girl, I feel a sudden surge of emotion. A desperate desire to protect her from all harm.

I move instinctively, sliding off of the couch to the floor while trying not to make any sudden or frightening motions. She hears me and her shoulders tense - I think she tries to stop herself from crying as she continues to hide her face. But try as she might, her breathing is still coming in shallow. She just can’t keep her emotions at bay anymore.

“Hey…” I say softly, my chest tight, “You’re not alone, okay? I’m here to help however I can.”

I wish I could tell her how. I wish I could fix this, or at least take her hand or give her a hug or… or something. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this helpless in my life. I do the only thing I can think of and reach a hand over to gently brush a finger against her back.

For a moment she stiffens at my touch and I worry that I’m making things worse yet again. But then she turns, still keeping her gaze away from mine, and presses up against me, burying her face into my fingers, and she begins to sob in earnest. This sets my heart racing. I’m not sure what else to do so I just let her cry it out, using my thumb now to carefully rub up and down her back.

After a couple of minutes, Evie starts calming down, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She finally looks up at me and musters a smile. “Thanks,” she says, and she’s still so quiet, but my ears are getting better at honing in on her little voice.

“Don’t mention it,” I say, weakly smiling back. “Maybe we should call it a night soon… Are you hungry?”

“Not really. I’m just so tired…” She rubs at her eyes and lets out a sigh. “But I should probably eat something. Any luck with the notebook?"

“Um… not yet,” I say, evading the question. Now doesn’t seem like the best time to give her the details I’ve found. “I’ll go grab some food for you. Is cheese and deli meat okay?”

“Sounds good. I’m not picky.”

I go back to the kitchen to make a simple sandwich - ham, cheese, avocado. I pinch a tiny piece of it off for her, though it’s probably still bigger than her entire head. I stare at it and don’t love how rough it looks, like I just ripped off some leftovers to feed to a dog, so I take a few extra seconds to lay the mini-sandwich on a cutting board and use a knife to trim off the jagged edges. It doesn’t exactly look beautiful in the end but it’s a bit neater at least. I lay the food on a spoon in lieu of a plate and get some more water for her while I’m at it.

Evie thanks me as I set these down in front of her, and she’s stifling a yawn. She appears less upset now, at least, but definitely super fatigued.

“Yeah, you look tuckered out,” I observe with a sympathetic smile. “Want to go ahead and turn in early?”

She’s reaching past the lip of the spoon to pull off some bread and nibble at it as she stares off into space. “I don’t think my body’s going to give me much of a choice. I feel like I could pass out at any minute… again.”

“Um, let’s try to avoid you fainting this time, please.”

I watch her for a moment, a little amused at how she’s eating - instead of attempting to bite into the oversized sandwich she’s just picking off tiny bits of ham and cheese and bread as separate components, holding a crumb in both hands as she takes small bites. Like a mouse with a millet seed. She has to be actively trying to be this cute, right?

Trying to reel myself in and avoid gawking at her again, I turn my mind to next steps. It’s not even 7pm yet, but clearly we need to get this girl some sleep.

"I’ll go change out the bed sheets real quick and I can bring you over there whenever you’re ready,” I suggest.

Evie lifts her head and cocks it to the side at me, slowly processing. “…You’re offering me your bed.”

"Yeah, I can sleep here on the couch. No big deal.”

"Aiden, no, you don’t have to do that. That seems a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? With me like this?”

"Just because you’re little doesn’t mean you’re not a guest.”

She actually lets out a laugh now and okay, true, the mental image of her in a vastly oversized bed is pretty silly. It does feel good to see her smile, though.

“No, really, it’s okay,” she insists, “I think part of the reason I’m so tired is because this kind of already feels like a giant mattress… I’ll be fine here. Honestly anything bigger would probably be too overwhelming.”

“Oh. Yeah okay, I could see that.” I ponder for a second and add, “Well, I’ll at least find you something to use as a blanket… I’ll be right back."

That insistent part of me that I keep trying to push away feels a little disappointed that I don’t get to pick her up again. But I’m determined to at least do what I can to make her comfortable. I go to my bedroom and look around in the closet for anything that can work. Blankets, pillow cases, shirts - everything’s way too big. I start going through my dresser drawers, and for a moment I consider a sock since it’s at least a somewhat more appropriate size. But even though they’re clean there’s something about it that just seems gross.

I come across a well-worn T-shirt that I haven’t used in a while since it has a couple of holes in it. It’s pretty soft, though… I should probably be getting rid of it anyway, maybe now I can salvage something.

On top of the dresser are some of my office supplies that have congregated, including a pair of scissors, and I set to work cutting into the shirt. I got this from some kind of volunteer event and there’s a little logo on it in the shape of a dog… I let that adorn the bottom of this makeshift blanket, making me smile as I imagine her snuggling underneath.

I cut another strip of the fabric to fold a couple of times into a small rectangle to offer as a rudimentary pillow. I’m finding myself wishing I could sew and wonder what other little things I could make for her… assuming she’ll be staying here for any length of time, that is.

When I come back to the living room, I worry for a second that Evie really has passed out. She’s slumped onto the side of the spoon, and it looks like she’s hardly made a dent in the sandwich before giving up. She twitches at the sound of my footsteps coming in, sleepily lifting her head back up to watch me, her body tensing at my approach.

I crouch down beside her for the last time that night, setting her makeshift pillow down next to where she’s sitting, and she immediately turns to collapse onto it. I smile and get the sweet moment I’d been secretly hoping for, carefully draping the blanket I’d made over her tiny frame. I refrain from trying to tuck her in, though, too afraid of squishing her.

“I’ll leave a light on in case you need to get up at night,” I mutter, and then I see I’m losing her fast so I quickly add, “If you need anything, let me know with this.”

I set down something I’d picked up from my bedroom, a visual countdown timer that I use for studying. It’s about as tall as she is and the knob in the center should be small enough for her to maneuver without issue.

“Just turn the timer on and off and it’ll beep. I’m a light sleeper, it’ll definitely wake me up.”

Evie gazes up at me and for a second I worry she’s about to start crying again. Am I overwhelming her with too much stuff? I really need to just leave and let her sleep. But she pulls it together and forces a smile my way.

“Thank you.”

I nod and start backing off. “No problem. Good night, Evie.”

I turn on the desk lamp and turn off the overhead light, walking away as quietly as I can. Just before going into my room, I pause. I stare at the ottoman, the minuscule figure laying on it, already curled up on her side and visibly unconscious. I really don’t like leaving her by herself.

An image pops into my brain, unbidden. Her little form curled up on me instead, snoozing away on my chest as I drift off to sleep– And I’m so mortified by the thought that I immediately turn on my heel and march straight into my room.

I spend the rest of the evening on my laptop, trying to find any scrap of information that I can about the scientist responsible for all this. Google gives me nothing. I dig into all of the school records and he never actually had an association with the university, all of that was faked. So was the sponsor company he said he’d worked with. When searching the room reservations for the chemical lab we were at, I’m shocked to find his name but literally no other information. There’s no record of me being there, nor Evie, nor any of the other victims for that matter. The secrecy behind this whole thing is far more extensive than I’d realized. I feel like all I’m doing is running into dead ends.

And even when I eventually try to sleep, it doesn’t come easily. Images keep flashing in my brain. Evie writhing in Dr. Little’s grip. Fire overtaking a corpse. Evie unconscious under an oxygen mask. Notebook pages reeking of terror and death. Evie crying her heart out. Evie trembling with fear in my hand. Evie so, so small… so vulnerable…

So beautiful…

I feel like my head might split in two as a battle rages within it. Hours pass before I finally drift into a dark, uncomfortable, fitful sleep.

@miss-lillipants You know, I’m more on the shrinking side of things that you mentioned, but I honestly love reading this kind of thing. It’s just so cool to hear someone passionately talk about what excites them, I feel like I get caught up in it get a sense of appreciation for it too! I’ve actually seen a lot of giant content on DeviantArt if you’re okay with the more SFW side of things~

As someone who both draws and writes, the infatuation with the AI stuff freaks me out a wee bit. And it all does feel a bit off to me, it hasn’t been the highest quality content imo, at least not yet. So I suppose I don’t really see the “point” in sharing stuff like that?

But I do get that it’s novel and interesting, I’ve played around with some of it and it can be entertaining. I don’t judge anyone for having fun with it. And I suppose I see some merit in artists being able to automate certain parts of their creative process and how AI might be able to help with that, maybe.

As far as posting here (not that it’s my call of course), I think if it’s clearly labeled as AI generated then… sure? Though if these forums became flooded with it I’m sure I’d feel frustrated as I personally don’t really have much interest in it, I’d much rather see actual artists get promoted. But that’s just my 2 cents!

@miss-lillipants I can’t carry this burden alone!

It has made me feel inspired to write scenarios like this, but from a SW talking to a giant listener. I’ve had this thought in the past and ended up WAY too self conscious about recording my own voice, but I think the concept is so cool.

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.”

@Olo Love it!! I’m glad I’m not the only one. I know we’re a big group of weirdos compared to the normies… but sometimes I feel like I’m a weirdo amongst weirdos

Holy crap So much ground was covered in more ways than one!

I’m not asexual but wanted to add to the chorus that you’re welcome here! It’s definitely a kink for me but honestly, I think my love of the fantasy is MOSTLY not sexual at all. Most of the artists I follow on DA are entirely SFW, there’s so much great stuff out there. I love fluff, friendship, adventure and just the emotional repercussions of the size difference. And even if I do really love romance and/or power play within a big/small relationship, I need to be in the right mood for the actual sex stuff.

@Nyx YES I’ve been there too. With some kind of inherent understanding on their end (but not explicitly stated until they’re already angry) that if they play giant for a bit then that means I have to play giantess for them too… Ughhhh

Chapter 9
Evie

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This is it. He’s done with me.

“A-about what?” I ask, trembling, “I won’t touch the scissors anymore, I promise!”

“Not that,” Aiden says, shaking his head. In this moment he looks very tired, and… hurt, almost. I don’t understand, not completely, but I’ve seen this kind of look before.

I stand there, not knowing what to say to stop the train from wrecking.

He sighs heavily. “I went to the lab and… it was bad. The whole room’s pretty much destroyed, none of the machinery was intact. And from what I can find out, Dr. Little was a complete mystery person - no one knows who he was or where he came from or anything. I don’t even know if that’s actually his name at this point or if it was just a sick joke. And according to his notes, none of the stuff that was shrunk down ever got restored again. It… it doesn’t look good, Evie.”

I have to keep the lid on. Keep it together.

“I wish I could tell you how sorry I am that this happened to you. I hate that I’m partly responsible. I’m trying to think longer term though…”

I can’t look him in the eye anymore, wrenching myself away from the piercing hazel.

“I understand that you’re scared of going to the authorities, and I wish I was able to just restore you myself instead. But I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what else to try.”

There’s a pause of deathly silence as I waver on the spot. It’s not a surprise at this point to find out that I might be stuck like this forever. I’ve either already come to terms with that, or more likely I just don’t have the capacity to process it yet. But now I have to face an entirely different reality instead. One that fills me with a deep, deep dread.

I blow out an exhale, like letting out steam to alleviate some of the pressure inside me. I try to take this small death gracefully and give him my gratitude for helping me as much as he has, all the while gathering the strength to negotiate.

“Aiden…” I finally say, still not quite looking him in the eye, “I don’t know what would have happened yesterday but… the way I see it, you saved my life. On more than one occasion. That’s not lost on me. I don’t know how to thank you and… you’re right. You’ve done enough.”

Another breath, even as cracks threaten the walls of my facade.

“I can’t ask any more of you. I can only imagine the burden I’d be. So… so I’ll… I’ll go…”

I feel a tickling on my cheek, a tear that I wasn’t able to keep in check. I stiffen and ignore it. Stay steady. I have to broker something other than the cops. Maybe someone from school, a professor or something–

“Hold on. What?” His tone makes me jump as he interrupts my thoughts, and my eyes suddenly meet his again. He looks completely bewildered. “Evie, I don’t think we’re on the same page. I really don’t know where you’re getting it from that I think you’re a burden?”

I blink, thrown off. “You were just saying… you want to go to the police, right?”

“I want to go to the police to better help you. Not to get rid of you. Is that what you thought?”

I had been reliving something from years ago. But it’s going differently this time, and I suddenly realize I’d completely misunderstood the situation. It’s as if the looming threat of a dark storm was actually just a cloud passing over the sun. I start seeing rays of hope again.

“Would you really rather just stay here? Even if you’d be stuck this way?” Aiden continues, “Y-you’re totally welcome to…”

Maybe it’s selfish, but I scramble for the opportunity. “Yes. Yes, I would. If that’s okay.”

“I mean… If that’s really how you feel then… shit, you can stay as long as you want.”

“Really?” I ask, and I finally wipe away that stray tear.

“Totally.” And he’s smiling at me now, the pain in his eyes dissipating. “Honestly I really miss living with someone. Not to turn around and make light of everything but, I don’t know, having a tiny roommate sounds kind of… fun?”

I feel surprised, but before I can unpack what he means by that, he resumes a more serious tone, “I just figured you’d want to take steps to getting back to normal as quickly as possible. You sure it’s a good idea to put it off?”

The danger has passed, but I still squirm nervously. “We don’t even know what that’ll look like,” I eventually say, “What kind of experiments they’d need to run or if I’ll end up all over the news… I just don’t know if I can handle that right now.”

"Okay… okay then! Well, damn, I’m glad we cleared that up. Just let me know when you feel ready to change course.”

"Thank you. I will.”

Aiden leans back in his chair and he actually looks just as relieved as I feel. "This changes things.” He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at me, corner of the mouth ticking up. “Now we can talk about the scissors.”

I wince. "I know, you’re right. It wasn’t worth the risk…”

"No, I can totally see why you’d want some amount of autonomy. So… let’s compromise, yeah? Let’s problem solve it. We’ll set stuff up so it’s easier for you to do things on your own. And please…” He leans in again, closer than usual, lowering his head so that I don’t have to look so high up. His gaze is gentle but intent. “Do take my word for it if I tell you you’re not bothering me? Being able to help makes me happy. Got it?”

I can feel something new on my cheeks. A warmth. It spreads through my whole body until I’m almost giddy with it. Suddenly I’m beaming up at him and extend my arm as if to give him a handshake. “Got it.”

He’s grinning right back and brings his hand up, index finger outstretched. I take it in both hands and we shake on it.

Things feel different as we have another meal together. I haven’t gotten over my new size, not by a long shot. I’m still actively pushing a lot of fear and uncertainty aside. But accepting my situation, even just on a surface level, is helping us both to relax.

“One thing I do need to ask of you…” I say, looking up from my taco crumbs, “I’ve been staying at AirBNBs while looking for a more permanent place to live. I was going to move out of my current one this weekend. Not that I can use my stuff now, but it all fits in one suitcase so…"

Aiden’s finished eating by this point and is currently cleaning up the desk. “Yeah, I should have enough space in my closet,” he says, “Sounds like we have some weekend plans then.”

“Maybe the day after tomorrow? The owner isn’t usually around on Saturdays.”

“Sure thing. In the meantime…” And now he’s opening up a drawer, below where I can see on the desk, and pulls out a notepad that’s over twice my height. “How about we start making a list of things to help you feel more at home?”

I get to my feet and internally attempt to reassure myself that it’s alright to let him help me this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

We go through a typical day and try to think of everything I might need to take care of myself. Thankfully I already have some shrunken toiletries, but Aiden offers me little bits of his own shampoo, deodorant and such to fill in the gaps. We debate what might be the best container to hold some of these things and eventually he thinks of the fact that he had gotten a bulk amount of toothpaste, meaning he has a bunch of little caps from those that we can use. I figure these might also be helpful just as buckets for carrying water.

On the subject of cleaning, we agree it might make more sense for me to hand wash my own clothes rather than potentially ruining them by including them with the normal sized laundry, so he offers me a drop of laundry detergent in another toothpaste cap. He ties some thread up to stretch between the desk lamp and a mug that he brings over, laying a hand towel down underneath it all, and bam. I have a clothesline.

I still need to make the clothes themselves, but I plan on letting him help this time. I’m still not particularly keen on the idea of doll clothes… I feel like they’d be made of something similar to the scratchy fabric of the hospital gowns. But I tell my new roommate that I’ll try them on if he thinks he finds something suitable. I do agree that dollhouse furniture might be nice - I wouldn’t mind shelves to store some of these things.

Food and water is a little trickier. A tank meant for small pets could work, at least to use for cleaning and whatnot. Aiden offers to give me a fresh spoonful of water every morning for drinking. He also brings over a couple of less perishable items - granola bars, packets of crackers, freeze-dried apple chips. We figure they’re good to have around in case I have to unexpectedly be alone for a meal. As much as I enjoy cooking, we can’t think of a safe way to set that up for me, so I’ll have to rely on my larger friend for the most part.

“It’d still be nice if we could get you a little fridge though,” Aiden muses. He’s brought his laptop over by this point to look for ideas online and is scrolling through a list of mini fridges, all of which would be the size of bounce houses to me. “Hey look, this one only holds a single soda can!” He looks at me with a bit more concentration, sizing me up.

“A can is what… six inches tall?” I wonder.

“A little less I think. Hmmm,” The giant has his hand up now, hovering it well above my head as he tries to visualize the height. “It would still be pretty big for you… Maybe worth a try though.”

I catch sight of the price on the billboard-like laptop screen. Yikes. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not sure I want to pay that much anyway.”

I had begrudgingly conceded to the fact that I wouldn’t be paying for rent nor for food since Aiden wouldn’t be spending anything extra on me (and while I have a small bit of savings, I clearly won’t be able to go back to work). He had wanted to pay for everything, but after some back and forth he eventually gave in to the decision that we would split the cost of my setup.

“My treat?” he offers now with a sheepish glance down at me. “If I see it at the store tomorrow I think it’s worth the experiment.”

I sigh in dramatic defeat, though I give him a grateful smile. “Fine. Thanks. It’s true, it might be nice for when you have classes over lunch time.”

Aiden pauses, thinking about what I just said. “We haven’t talked about school yet,” he says quietly, “It’ll obviously be harder for you to attend classes this way… um… are any of your classes online?”

“No, they’re not. I’ve thought about it, and yeah it’s a bit of a bummer, and a waste of that scholarship money… but oh well. I took this long to start college, I can wait a little longer. Maybe when I get my textbooks back I can study and be extra prepared for next time.”

"Hey, that’s the spirit. You can still be my study buddy for Biochem if you like.”

"I doubt I’d be much help, but sure!”

This leads us to the subject of what I’ll be occupying myself with all day. Studying aside, I’m bound to get bored. I do have several shrunken books that are more or less in my size to check out. Aiden breaks up little bits of lead in case I want to write or doodle. And thankfully I still have a warranty on my phone that was lost to the lab fire, so he can hopefully get a replacement for me and I’ll at least have internet access on that. It’s a good start.

Some craft projects will probably keep me busy as well. I will say, letting Aiden help me cut the strips of fabric for my makeshift dresses and rompers really is so much easier than when I spent an hour cutting one myself. But I’ve now also found a way to take a broken piece of toothpick and grind it against the side of a matchbox so that it sharpens into a point, creating a rudimentary sewing needle. Maybe I could make some real clothes at some point, but for now I test it out on a simpler project. Aiden cuts out a rectangle of fabric from an old shirt and offers some cotton stuffing from his couch cushions. I tie some thread to the toothpick to sew the thing up best I can. Voila. I have myself a mattress.

We’ve spent all afternoon and evening planning and making things, and I can’t believe I’m thinking this but… it’s true. This is kind of fun, somehow. In a summer camp kind of way, a new adventure where it feels like there’s so much to explore.

And we’re chatting throughout it all, entering into discussions about our interests and hobbies, and it turns out he does like things outside of Magic, such as hiking, fantasy novels and geology (hence his major). Meanwhile, I mostly mention enjoying cooking and crafting - everything to do with home economics. I find out that we’re almost the same age, with me being 24 and him 25, and that’s a rather strange thing to bond over, being a little older than the average college student. I find out it’s because he’s a grad student, and while I don’t go into all the details, I tell him about my wide variety of odd jobs I’ve had since high school.

We start joking around about the ludicrous gap between our sizes. At one point I invite him to sit down at my shrunken table and chair, acting all confused when he chuckles at me instead. At another point he pretends to hand me something but briefly holds it above my head, way out of reach. Nothing too mean, just kind of silly. Apparently finding the humor in the size difference is our way of coping.

The conversations are nice… I like him. We get along with very little effort.

Since neither one of us slept well last night, we decide to call it a little early for bedtime. Aiden gets me some warm water to wash myself with before he leaves, and I turn to look around at my setup, feeling satisfied about how everything’s coming together. And after some shopping tomorrow it’ll be even better.

Don’t give up. Fight back. Work harder.

I can do this.