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Prologue | Previous

YAY! Chapter Three is up here and on Webtoon!

Just as a heads up, I plan on going forward with Webtoon as the primary platform for all official chapters in the near future. I’ll post a few more chapters here on Tumblr for now, but just wanted to give a heads up. If you like reading their story here, please consider subscribing on Webtoon as well! Thank you for the support!!! 💕

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Okay. Well, glitter simply doesn't go away. So, don't go blaming me when random places in your house have little sparkle trails. You've cursed us both.

heya, little buddy! yeah, i’d love to hang out, let me just pick up my craft supplies :) *spills an entire container of glitter on my borrower friend* oh god oh fuck. shit. my bad dude. fuck.

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here, have a tiktok w.i.p. and a messy, little bit spicy, (very monstery) g/t scribble of ✨them✨

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Prologue | Previous | Next (coming soon)

Yay! ✨Here is Chapter 2✨

(I promise I’m working on getting their story on webtoon! The hope is to have it up by the end of July!)

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very much love when the tiny thinks they have the upper hand, and then suddenly realizes they Do Not.

like the giant being restrained somehow, or otherwise unable to get to or harm the tiny. the tiny getting overconfident, feeling totally in charge of the situation. until the giant breaks free. all confidence just washing out of the tiny in an instant, as they remember how small they are. just. the terrifying realization that they are absolutely no longer in control, and that it was stupid to even think they were in the first place.

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I was supposed to be working on the comic of the borrower fella cuz it’s due in like two days but I just couldn’t concentrate HES JUST TOO CUTE 😭

I had to draw him with Koa my hand was aching to do it

I’ve actually never draw something so fast before yey me✨

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This weekend was very busy and very exciting and very VERY nerve wrecking.

Hopefully soon I'll be back to posting

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I don't think I ever grasped g/t fully

Until I thought about

Being put inside a hoodie's pocket, with the giant's hands completely encompassing your body. You can feel them, and they can feel you too. You can't see anything, but you feel safe, knowing that they'd never hurt you or let anyone else hurt you.

I understand it now

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WHO NEEDS MIDDLE BITS WHEN YOU CAN HAVE ✨ 𝒔 𝒄 𝒆 𝒏 𝒆 𝒔 ✨

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5 & 17

5. How did you choose their name and why? Was it simply based on vibes or is there any specific meaning behind the name? Are the reasons behind their name different in- and out of universe?

Hm, mostly vibes alone. Although pretty much all of the names are names I actually really like! Sometimes I'll look up name meanings and things to get a jumping off point. Or, I'll do something arbitrary like pick a letter and look through names until I find something I like. I do a lot of chasing rabbits with name picking. Where I just follow one thing, into another, into another... and eventually I find something that fits!!

Isabell, Ezekiel and Marcus are from my Homestuck rp days. (Isabel, Zekiel, to fit the naming convention)

But nowadays I like to imagine Isabell fits into that borrower naming convention meme of like, named after objects... Is A Bell... It's a little dumb that's why I haven't mentioned it until now.

17. Are there any motifs or symbols associated with the character? How are they represented, in their design, personality or in some other way?

I got carried away so I am putting this below the cut.

--

If we are boiling them down into like... Basic archetypes, yeah. I mean everyone has different things I feel like they accomplish?

Isabell & the Lads-

When I think about their story I think like, slice of life, cozy vibes.

I love exploring the hyper-awareness of the power dynamic that Zeke brings. He's so tuned in to what's going on, and so afraid of risking her autonomy, that it freezes him into this distant in-action a lot of the time.

Marcus is the chaotic energy where it's like, just feeling things so much and so big. He's impulsive and loud, but he believes he's treating Isabell no differently than he would any other person, giving her a sort of freedom in the sense that he's not like... Treating her like she's made of glass or something.

Isabell holds my anxiety tbh. I've probably said that before. Processing fighting against fears and the narrative of who people or society expects you to be vs. who you want to be.

Deckard & Lark

Deckard is my special boi. He is a disaster. He's hopelessly flirtatious. He's a jack of all trades. He loves lying. He is a bundle of flaws tied up in a devilish charisma. His whole thing is like... Not caring until you're in too deep and you realize you actually DO care? Quite a bit. He's a man on a long journey of character development.

Lark (Larkspur (it's a flower, talking about names again) ) I've been working on her a lot. I think this story feels, or has felt in the past (to me at least), like it's DECKARD'S story more than THEIR story. So Lark felt flat to me, and just a vehicle to develop Deckard. Which frustrated me, so I been working on fixing that. I think

I think there's a lot going on with her tbh. Her whole life is turned upside down so I think she's forced to adapt to the situation. I feel like there is a BEFORE Lark. And an AFTER Lark. And I think that a lot of her frustration comes from like... That response to trauma or a major life change. Going through an identity shift where you don't feel like yourself anymore, and struggling with rediscovering who you are now. I think about it a lot like the grief I've experienced in my life. How it changed me. Who I was before. Who I am now. Being okay with the change/ figuring out how to work on the things I'm not okay with. Knowing ultimately that I don't have the power to change the situation that made me this way. But also knowing that I do have the power to change how I personally respond to it? If that made any sense. Sorry about the deep dive into my psyche lmao.

Charlie & Felix

I've said this before too, but Felix holds all of my anger. Any time I'm frustrated the energy is often channeled into something to do with him. He's of course more than that nowadays. He's cocky. He loves being big and powerful. He's felt weakness and he's told himself never again. But also, he's about dealing with the consequences of your actions. He's a messy messy redemption arc. He's progress and relapse. He's about unlearning the defense mechanisms that are no longer needed. I think about the isle of dogs, "I'm not a violent dog. I don't know why I bite."

Charlie is just caught between a rock and a hard place. From a family of supers, doesn't have an ability. So, she doesn't particularly fit in with the supers. But in the world where mundanes may or may not be cool about supers, she doesn't necessarily fit in with them either. She's social, but it always feels surface level to her. Because she struggles finding somewhere where she actually fits. Of course, somehow she manages to find that with Felix of all people.

Dante & Vi

Ngl, I was mostly excited about the scenario to put these two in. I am still developing them. So this won't be as like... Poetic as some of the others.

Vi (I pronounce her name "Vee" in my head. But I understand if you have been reading it as "vie") she is fierce and capable. She is a borrower who would not have been caught. No interest in the humans, just doing her thing. This of course colliding so full force with size shifting Dante ... Antics ensue.

I'm excited to learn more about them as their story develops. Hopefully I post another chapter for them before 2026 🙈

I don't know if I answered that like... The way that the question was intended. But... Yeah enjoy this wall of text ig

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Oooo 3, 4, and 16 for the character ask pls

3. What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

Across the board, I almost always start with a Character's roll in the story! I'll have like one theme or scene that I want to accomplish and I'll start building characters around that!

Then, as I start building the characters with personalities they really start to take their own shape and it becomes easier to guide them through scenarios!

I have a theatre background so character work and analysis is something I have invested a LOT of hours into. And I just think it's super fun. So it might not be the thing that happens first, but it is probably the thing that I spend the most time on!

4. And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

I probably struggle with appearance the most. Tagging along with what I was saying before... I get really excited about personalities and dialogue and then I remember that people exist in a physical space. So deciding and describing physical things and appearance always feels more like work to me.

16. Is there any memes or running jokes associated with the character, both in- and out of universe?

Ahhh unsure tbh! Sorry that's probably a super lame answer.

But, I am expressly giving my full permission for anyone to make memes out of my characters and stories. 🤣 That would be super cool haha!

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Character asks!

These are more focused on the background stuff rather than the usual "what would the character do in XY situation" kinds of asks. I've been looking for something like this for quite a while and in the end decided to make my own. Feel free to use, go wild, enjoy

What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character?

How long was the process before the character reached its final version? (or a version that would be clearly recognizable as the character?)

What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

How did you choose their name and why? Was it simply based on vibes or is there any specific meaning behind the name? Are the reasons behind their name different in- and out of universe?

What was the thought process behind their appearance? Did you go mostly for the aesthetic or are there other reasons they look the way they do?

What is an aspect of their appearance that you like the most?

What is the origin of their personality? And let's be honest - how much of it is projecting?

How big is their role in the story? Do they make a frequent appearance or are they a character with little "screentime" but big influence? Or are they just a favourite background guy?

What is their main character arc in the story? Where do they start and how do they develop? Do they get a happy ending or is their story a tragic one?

Is there any existing character from other media that your character resembles? Was the resemblance intentional or was it a coincidence?

Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?

Do you have a voice claim for the character? What do you imagine the character sounds like?

Do you have any quotes tied to the character, either from the story itself or from another source that fit them?

Have you ever made a moodboard for them?

Is there any memes or running jokes associated with the character, both in- and out of universe?

Are there any motifs or symbols associated with the character? How are they represented, in their design, personality or in some other way?

Does the character have other characters connected to them? Do you have a family tree and "offscreen" connections made up for them or do they exist in a vacuum purely for the purpose of the story?

What is your general favourite thing about the character? What is your least favourite?

Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favourite scenes, anything you've been waiting for a chance to ramble about

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(This is not related to the plot, just a random situation)

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Imagine a giant teazing their tiny friend , dangling them in front of their face between their fingers with a sly grin saying: "what, are you scared?"

Tiny, absolutely terrified: *starts crying*

Giant: "wait, are you actually scared???"

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I really like giants that are unaware of how terrifying they are.

BUT I also like giants that are HYPER-AWARE of how big they are and how loud and overwhelming they must be. Giants that notice every time their tiny friend flinches away from them, or has to crane their neck way back to see them. And, even though they try really hard to be non-threatening, they just can't make themselves any smaller.

They look at their tiny friend and they're so small and cute, and the giant is just so afraid that when their friend looks at them, all they'd see is a monster.

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Love love love a G/t nightmare comfort scene. Just because of how complete the protection of the giant is.

G pulling T into their hands, drawing them close, holding them against the hollow of their throat. Shielding them from how big the world is. Covering them with warmth and the steady sound of their heartbeat, their breathing. Gigantic fingers, capable of so much power, now brushing soothing lines over their spine. All while they're gently murmuring to them. Little things, like, "you're okay. You're safe. I've got you." Even though the words are soft, from where T is held against them, they can feel each word vibrating through their bones.

And they're safe to cry. Not being watched, barely even there compared to the massive person surrounding them. Though they know that in that moment they are this person's sole focus- they might as well be their entire world- but, they aren't being judged. They are safe to let go of their pain here. Tiny hands fisting into the fabric of G's shirt, sobbing into them. And G wordlessly asserting that they will be bigger than all of T's problems, so they don't need to worry.

--

Like... yes, of course.

But the other way around?

The giant having a nightmare, being nudged awake. Tiny hands against their shoulder or against their face. G jolts awake. Just one reactionary movement, and their tiny friend is sent sprawling back against the mattress. In the low light of the room they can see the concern on the smaller person's face.

In the sickening haze of the nightmare, seeing T overwhelms them. This is someone they're supposed to protect. G's actions are so consequential, simply waking up was enough to knock T from their feet. Their dreams probably even woke T in the first place.

Always being the strong one, the steady one... it's a lot of pressure to put on someone. Not that T is the one pressuring them. It's themselves. They want to be safe for T. They want to be there for them. But right now, they're falling apart. What will T think of them?

Flashes from the dream cling to them, weighing like lead in their stomach, and making their chest feel hollow. They take a shuttering breath, but can't prevent the exhale from breaking into a sob. They burry their face into the pillow. How horrific this must be for their tiny friend to see. Their sobs shutter the mattress, making it hard for T to stand. G tries to be so careful, they know they're probably scaring them.

T manages to find their footing, walking back to G, and pressing into their arm.

"Hey. You're okay. It was just a nightmare, everything is alright."

The massive face lifts from the pillow, eyes wet, cheeks streaming with tears. They sniff, trying to breathe. Trying to be smaller. But T doesn't shy away from them, they lean into their arm, trying to hug them, to comfort them as best they can.

Of course, T is probably wondering if they can do anything of substance for G. They can't scoop them up, they can't shield them from the world. All they can do is be here. Is that enough?

T strokes their arm, looking up at G's face. Tentatively, G moves, T braces as the mattress shifts beneath them. G's hands pull around T- slowly, as if asking "is this alright?" T responds by bridging the gap between them. Pushing themselves into G's palm, hugging their fingers, nuzzling against their thumb. G pulls them in, their body curling around their friend, still crying, still calming down. But feeling better now that they know they don't need to pick up the pieces all by themselves.

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I spend way more time thinking about other people’s stories than writing my own, but….

I know Felix can grow, can he shrink as well? How would Charlie read to that?

In canon, no Felix can't shrink.

If he could, he would rather die before shrinking in front of anyone else. I feel like he wouldn't even want to talk about it.

---

"Can you get small too?" Charlie asks curiously.

"I don't do that," is Felix's flat reply

"don't, or can't?"

He doesn't dignify that with a response.

"Okay, cool. That's not something we talk about, got it."

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But if it was unavoidable...

Wordcount: 2.3k

It begins as a mild pressure in his skull, growing into an electricity that trickles down his spine. It’s similar to how he feels when he grows, but much more unsettling. He tries to shrug it off, but the heaviness of it clings to him, threatening to pull him into himself.

He hates it.

Felix clenches his jaw, doing everything he can to push back against the building pressure. Maybe if he could grow, just a little bit, then he could assert himself in his regular size, he reasons with himself. He reaches out with his ability, an attempt to turn the tides here. But it’s no use. The effort is met with a sharp stab of pain behind his eyes, strong enough to stagger him. His pulse kicks up, alarmed by the solid wall cutting him off from his growth ability.

He looks around the busy cafeteria. Of course he’s in public when his ability decides to go haywire. Charlie is in line at the campus Panda Express, he was saving them a table. He waves, and though she’s across the room, he manages to catch her eye. She smiles at him before making out the urgency of his expression. She ditches the line and heads over his way.  

He tries forcing his breath to deepen, keeping himself calm, digging his nails into his palms. He just needs to hold on for a little bit longer. But he can’t. In the blink of an eye, he buckles to his knees, succumbing to the pressure surrounding him. He looks down at his hands, pressed against the tile floor. This can’t be happening right now. He’s tiny.

There is no time to acclimate, he’s in the pathway between tables. No one was paying him any mind. But then again, not being noticed might not actually be a stroke of good luck right now. Footsteps thunder towards him. A worn sneaker slams into the ground right beside him, the force of it sends him sprawling across the floor. Felix rolls out of the walkway, before anyone else can walk by and trample him. There is so much noise, so much movement. It’s so overwhelming, his world feels like it’s going to shatter.

He dives underneath the table right as Charlie arrives. She takes a seat, tentatively. She’s probably confused, maybe nervous, wondering where he ran off to. His bag is still on the table, along with his phone, so hopefully she doesn’t think he ditched her.

He watches, clinging to the leg of the table, as she tucks her feet under the chair, crossing them at her ankles. She wears faded yellow Converse high-tops with embroidered little flowers all along the sides. The stitches are uneven and worn, she might have done that herself.

He needs to get her attention. He knows that, but to do it would require him to force his limbs to move first. He’s stuck, stiffly cowering in the shadow of the table. His friend is so close, and yet she somehow seems worlds away. Felix grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. His lungs feel as if they’re on fire, and filling with water all at the same time. His vision blurs at the edges, like the world is constricting around him. He can’t focus. He can’t breathe.

This is his worst nightmare, come true. He avoids shrinking like the plague, and he’s certainly never done it in public. He’s never felt like this before, like his entire world is crumbling around him, and he doesn’t know how to pick up the pieces.

Out of nothing less than desperation, he forces himself forward. Each staggered step feels like he’s carrying a thousand pounds with him. Dread pools in his stomach as he reaches out, placing both hands against her ankle, and shoving.

Charlie jumps beneath his touch. The movement is small, but it’s enough to knock him off his feet. He scrambles backwards, terror igniting inside him as the chair scrapes against the floor. Propped on his elbows, he looks straight up to find Charlie absolutely filling his sky. She jolts at the sight of him on the floor, leaning in to get a better look at him. Her blonde curls fall over her shoulders and into her face as she looks down at him.

“Felix?” She whispers in disbelief, her eyes wide. He feels so exposed, so vulnerable. He opens his mouth, but he can’t get his words to work. “You look like you’re about to pass out,” she observes aloud. Concern floods her expression, followed by uncertainty. She towers over him, eclipsing him entirely in her shadow, and yet she’s looking at him like she’s waiting for instructions.

With a ragged breath he croaks out, “Help. Please.” The words are bitter on his tongue. Pathetic.

Charlie doesn’t say anything else, just nods. She crouches down on the floor and reaches towards him. He can’t stop his body from jerking backwards at the movement of something so massive coming towards him. Her fingers hesitate before him.

“You’re okay,” he hates how sympathetic she sounds, like she’s calming a child. “I need to pick you up. I’ve got you, okay?”

The words would be reassuring, but he can only focus on his fear and his shame coiling together inside of him, working in tandem to choke him out completely. Digging his nails back into the meat of his palms, he bobs his head sharply, willing her to just get it over with.

She moves slowly. He wants to close his eyes, but somehow that seems worse. He forces himself to watch as Charlie’s hands surround him. The tip of her finger is the size of his face. He can see every intricate swirl of her fingerprints. Is this how people see him? Is this how she has seen him? He has a newfound respect for Charlie, and her bravery, and he feels another stab of guilt for how he lashed out at her the first time she saw his ability.

Thoughts are flying into his brain so quickly, they mush together into indiscernible static. Only one thought manages to ring out, over the noise of the room, and the noise in his brain. ‘I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.’

At last, she pulls in into her hands. The leathery flesh of her palm barely dips beneath his inconsequential weight. Her thumb pulls in, securing across his midsection, and pinning him into places against her fingers. He finally looks up at her. Her eyes are shining with disbelief and awe. Her breath hitches as she holds him. He knows that feeling, he’s been there. He’s never experienced it from the other side before. So far, he can’t say that he’s a fan.

Like an elevator from hell, she picks him up, tucking him against her side, concealing him from view under her unbuttoned flannel. She quickly gathers all of their things and rushes out of the University Cafeteria.

The world is muffled slightly, through the flesh of her hand, through the fabric of her flannel. The scale is mind-bending. Something that must feel insignificant to her, entirely surrounds him. He’s overwhelmed by their closeness, by the petrichor scent that clings to her. He understands now how she could feel as though they were snuggling when all he had done was let her rest in the crook of his arm.

Her footfalls explode through him as she rushes up a flight of stairs. She keeps him pressed snug to her side. Her thumb remains securely pressed across his middle, her fingers curling around him. He feels less like a person, and more like a lizard she caught in the woods. He looks at the fingers surrounding him, trying to remember how to breathe. Her fingernails were painted with a warm honey-yellow color some time ago, they’re all chipped now. It’s amazing how easy it is to miss all the little details about someone.

When she pulls him out into the open, they’re alone in her dorm. She sets him down on her desk. The surface is suspended somewhere between tidy and neat; it’s an organized chaos.  Notebooks are piled atop her laptop, contained to one side of the desk. Gel pens and highlighters are spread randomly across the surface. Behind him, there’s a ceramic cup holding pencils, it looks handmade, hand painted. The pencil cup is about as tall as he is, his stomach lurches at that. Beyond the desk, the concrete wall behind Charlie is covered in drawings of plants, pictures of her and her brothers, national park posters and other miscellaneous decorations. The room is cast in the warm light of white Christmas lights, rather than the blaring fluorescent overhead lights. She’s got a frog stuffed animal resting against her pillows. Her sage green bedspread is tossed haphazardly over the mattress, as if she had made a semi-attempt at making the bed that morning. Though the quiet in the room is like a breath of fresh air, everything is just so big, it makes him dizzy all over again.

Charlie takes a step back after she sets him down. Despite the distance she’s placed between them, she manages to loom over him. He’s not used to looking straight up to see someone. Her eyes are locked on him, all encompassing. There’s no escape. He supposes he isn’t a stranger to being observed. When he’s gigantic, that attracts a good bit of attention, understandably. Even at his normal size, he’s the subject of rumors, or general wariness. But this is different. It’s far more unsettling. It’s vulnerable.

“Hey. Hey, breathe,” Charlie instructs, slowly sitting in the chair by the desk and keeping her voice low. “Are you okay?”

That question breaks the dam holding back his scattered emotions. He’s panicking like he’s drowning- willing to take anyone around him down, if it means that he can keep his head about water. Except there is no such thing as “above water” for him right now. He’s scared. Felix Westwell doesn’t get scared. No, Felix Westwell gets angry, so that is precisely what he does.

“Do I fucking look okay? Use your fucking eyes! I am obviously not okay right now!” He snaps, looking at her sharply.

She flinches hard, but he’s too far gone to care.

“Okay,” her voice sounds much smaller now, her shoulders curl inward slightly, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“What could you possibly do to help me right now?”

“I—”

“Unless you recently developed some sort of power that would, I don’t know, hard stop my ability, or fucking grow me back, then I guess we are shit out of luck, aren’t we?” His voice is venomous, condescending.

She blinks, biting back a sharp retort. She watches him pace across her desk like a cornered animal. His chest heaves, though he’s breathing, he feels like he isn’t getting any air. When he looks up at her again, her eyes are glassy, looking through him instead of at him. She turns her gaze down to her lap, wordlessly fidgeting with her hands.

This is not the reward of a fight. It’s not the punishment of tears. It’s something worse, much worse. It’s nothing. She just shuts down in front of him. In an instant just disappearing inside herself. Despite being so small, he realizes he might have hurt her now, more than any time he was massive. The realization hits him like a boot to the sternum, breaking him from his panic long enough for guilt to seep in through the cracks.

“Charlie,” he says after a long exhale.

Her reaction is delayed. She blinks, dragging her eyes to focus on him slowly.

“I’m not… I’m not used to being small,” he says, side stepping the apology.

“Yeah,” she nods, looking away, “I noticed." Her words hang in the air for a moment. "I can just give you space until you’re… better.” Her voice is flat. She begins to stand.

“Charlie, wait,” he calls out to her, his mouth acting before his brain. He can’t stop her. If she wanted to walk away and leave him alone in her room, she could. Hell, if she wanted to snatch him up and yell at him for hurting her feelings, she could. Maybe he should be thankful that all she’s doing is walking away. He’s powerless, worse than powerless. Thankfully, she pauses. Just briefly. “I’m sorry,” his voice sounds so small on his ears, but it gets her to look at him again. She seems just as surprised as he is at his apology. “I’m sorry,” he says it again, his voice more solid this time.

She’s trying, he doesn’t need to take this out on her. Just, old habits are dying hard, he supposes. He doesn’t know how to say any of that. He doesn’t know how to ask her to stay. He isn’t sure what he wants right now. The panic is ebbing away, leaving him feeling hollow and stale. He scrubs a hand over his face, looking up at her helplessly.

She watches him for a beat longer, her expression guarded and unreadable. Then, slowly, she sinks back down into the chair.

“Okay,” she says softly, and the tension winding inside of him eases slightly. “How long do you think you’ll be stuck like that?” She asks after a moment.

“Don’t know,” he says, his eyes tracing the wood grain of the desk. “Probably a couple hours.”

“Sheesh,” she scrunches her nose. “Do you want to watch a movie?” Charlie offers gently, “Something to pass the time?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He doesn’t thank her. He doesn’t know how to without making it sound pathetic. She's taken a nightmare, and turned it into something manageable. She was there for him, despite him lashing out the whole time. He doesn't deserve her. He should tell her that.

...Maybe later.

She pulls out her laptop from underneath the notebooks. The front is decorated with stickers.

“What do you want to watch?” she asks, opening Netflix.