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miniscule-meow · 17 days ago

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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."

---

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.

#size shifters #charlie and felix #g/t #g/t writing #giant tiny #give that boy A PANIC ATTACK #“YeAh PrObAbLy 500-1000 WoRdS”#2.3k smh #got my fkn clown shoes on i guess #word factory in overdrive #my writing #fun fact about me (and it's probably obvious) I'm not a huge fan of F/m size stories #but this was a fun lil AU #Not much scares Felix #he's not an avid panic attack haver- he probably thought he was gonna die- poor kid

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stopper-my-heart · 10 months ago

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Nick's moments of panic under the umbrella in Heartstopper S1E4 before Charlie kisses him really get me. So I wrote a thing in second person to try to appreciate the weight of the emotions that I imagine Nick is experiencing.

------------------------

You’re into this boy. So into him. He’s been in your thoughts. . . a lot. You've been talking all the time, you keep wanting to see him, and whenever you do, it’s never enough. You can’t help but smile when you think of him, let alone when you see him.

You want this boy. Romantically. You don’t really know what that looks like, but you know it’s true.

And, it seems, he wants you, too.

Your first kiss was good. Really good. All those tingles and flutters and sparks that you felt from just being close to him were amplified into so much more. It was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

And then you panicked. You screwed it up. You ran. You went back, but it was too late. You need him to know that you don’t regret it, that you wanted it, that you want him, that you were (are) just freaking out.

You try to be calm, you try to keep your cool. (No need to embarrass yourself in front of your crush.) Plus things are a little weird, restrained, and understandably so. He's probably really hurt. You need to get this out, you need to explain. You can do it.

And then he begins apologising. It quickly becomes clear that he has this all wrong. That he’s wildly misunderstood, rewritten what has happened. You were there because you wanted to be, because you chose to be. Yes, you were scared — are scared — but he has this all twisted.

Charlie.

Charlie!

Charlie.

He's not getting it. So you kiss him.

You make sure he knows what’s going to happen, and even if he seems very confused, he responds readily enough. You attempt to pour all of your feelings into him, to get across all of your regret and sorrow for hurting him as well as (maybe especially) how much you do want this. And for a moment, he loses himself in the kiss. You understand, you do too. Kissing him is just as good as you remember.

And, well, it’s too late for being cool now. You just kissed all your emotions into him, practically begging him to understand; you’d best explain what those emotions are in the hopes that he properly will. (Besides, this isn’t just “your crush”, this is Charlie.) You can’t leave him standing there so lost and confused. You may be confused, but he deserves to know that that confusion isn't about him.

So you start to explain…and then it all comes out. You’re vulnerable in a way you can’t remember being before. There’s no one in your life you can talk to like this, especially not about this. And it’s really been messing with you. Because not only has this boy's presence in your life already begun to upend everything, but you're so much happier because of it. And what are you supposed to do with that? What even would your life be if it were entirely different? Do you even want it to be different? . . .Maybe. But it’s scary. But you want him. And you want you.

So you tell him this, more or less. Really, you cry into his chest. Is this too much? Is he overwhelmed? So much for keeping it cool, keeping your cool. But you need this. He seems okay, he seems to get it. The friendship you’ve built is there, it can handle difficult things — it already has. He seems to want to be there for you. So you let him, and he lets you, and things are hard but they’re better in this moment. You’re finally seen and understood, and maybe Charlie now understands why you ran away, that it wasn’t about him, about the two of you.

. . .But now what?

You want him, but being with him will indeed upend every single facet of your life if other people know. You’re not ready for that, you can’t face that yet. It's too much. Everything is still so new and confusing. You don’t want to ask, but you want to be with him and you don’t see any other way to do that right now except to…keep this a secret? He finishes the thought for you. "Yeah," you concede, unhappily, but owning that that’s where you’re at.

He agrees, he tries to reassure you; you’re not completely convinced, but you want to believe him, so you let yourself.

And there's that question again: Now what?

There have been a lot of emotions and things are a little weird, even if a lot better, and you want to say something, or to touch him, but this is new and you’re meant to be leaving and…best to just go. The awkwardness will fade eventually. You’ll figure out how to be in this new dynamic. For now, you’re wanting, but you don’t know how to do anything more than that (would he want you to?). So you smile at him through the awkwardness and start to walk home.

. . .

What. Just. Happened.

This is good, but awkward, but good, and he wants this too, right? You’re together now, right? You’re really getting to be with him, with this boy you want so much, with Charlie. This is happening?

And then you hear it: Charlie calling out to you. Feet slapping on wet pavement.

“Nick!”

You stop, startled, confused, off-balance. What’s happening? He’s smiling, but.. What could possibly be worth running out into the rain in his pyjamas for? Has he changed his mind already? Does he not want this? Is keeping it a secret too much?

The doubts and fear are filling your mind, but you try to rein it in, to not let it show, to not let him see.

And then he looks back at you. And you know, in an instant, that everything that you wanted for your goodbye, he wanted, too.

Right? Please let you be understanding this correctly. You look at his lips, once, twice — you can’t help it. You’re desperately hoping that you’re on the same page, but barely daring to believe it.

And then he kisses you.

And the world stops.

And this is it. This is right.

Charlie.

This boy just ran out in the rain to kiss you. He’s soaking wet, he must be freezing, and here he is, kissing you. That’s the only reason he came out after you. To kiss you.

He smiles — that amazing smile of his that lights up your whole world — and then he runs off again.

There’s no more room for thoughts, only feelings. Massive feelings that well up inside you. So much sentiment that it feels like your heart is bursting.

You thought you were off-balance before? Well now you’re practically drunk.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Maybe the best thing ever.

#Panic! under the Umbrella #is how I affectionately think of the umbrella scene for Nick before they kiss #I'm so proud of Charlie for running after Nick to kiss him (in the rain. in his pyjamas. when he has to leave for his grandma's house)#What a courageous gesture he made for the two of them #Just imagine how that would've felt for Nick #Especially after everything #That reassurance. That restabilising of their relationship #...I guess imagining that is the point of this post haha #Hopefully my descriptions were enough that you didn't need gifs to remember or imagine the scenes leading up to it and/or Nick's feelings #heartstopper #nick & charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #alice oseman #heartstopper analysis #nick x charlie #narlie #heartstopper s1 #heartstopper netflix

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chaoticace2005 · 1 year ago

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hum4n01df00 · 5 months ago

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It’s always sunny characters as emo albums cuz why not

Also- my mother started to watch sunny :3

#it’s always sunny in philadelphia #iasip #dennis reynolds #dee reynolds #charlie kelly #mac mcdonald #panic at the disco #a fever you can't sweat out #paramore #riot paramore #my chemical romance #three cheers for sweet revenge #fall out boy #infinity on high #2000s emo #emo bangers #pop punk

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thesupernaturalhouse · 1 year ago

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Vaggie: Alastor can you watch the eggs their being....eggs and I have to- just take them off my hands

Alastor: ooo i certainly will....

Vaggie:.....in a peaceful manner. Alastor.

Alastor: mmm well that's less fun, also why should I watch them?

Vaggie: well you're going to some meeting and I have to help charlie-

Alastor: didn't she excuse you from your duties for today?

Vaggie:...why would she- why would I ask for that??

Alastor: why, you have to come to this meeting to my dear!

Vaggie: no I dont?? It's an overlord meeting I'm not an overlord-

Alastor: but you are!

Vaggie: if anything charlie should probably be going with you rather then me- what what??

Alastor: I'll explain on the way! *just fucking leaves*

Vaggie: wha- alastor! Alastor I swear to the lord you better explain!

Alastor: hmmm, well you're an overlord my dear I don't think there's anything else TO explain

Vaggie: right...but I'm NOT an overlord??

Alastor: I beg to differ, I knew there was something off about you but couldn't place it until Charlie said something

Vaggie: Charlie- what does- okay you know what? You're insane. I'm going to go talk to Charlie myself!

Alastor grabs her shirt collar like a kitten: ah-ah-ah you have a meeting to attend my dear! It's be bad manners if you skipped it, whoch I suppose you've been skipping them for the past 5 or so years?

Vaggie: No, I haven't! and let go of my you asshole!

Alastor: hmmm no I don't think I will~ come on now! We're already half way there!

Vaggie: ugh, at least tell me how you and xharlie think I'm an overlord- which I'm NOT by the way!

Alastor: well...do you remember that sinner you saved? The one you had a slat with and ended uo teaching self defense?

Vaggie: how do you-....ah, charlie- what does that have to do with anything??

Alastor radio noise of displeasure: well, APPARENTLY they told more demons, you DO remember the large influx of demons who came to you right?

Vaggie: I.....I um....yeah....

Alastor: well they said they owed you 'favors' correct?

Vaggie:....fuck.

Alastor: they gave you their souls until said favor is called upon! You not using it has apparently given you the reputation of a very lenient overlord, a defensive and protective one at that! So more people cane to you, you trianed them in defense and most gave you their souls so you could call upon them for a favor at a time of your choosing!

Vaggie: going through the 5 stages of grief trying to process it all

Alastor: On top of that, the other overlords seem to be threatened by the fact you have so many souls and demons going to you WILLINGLY, you not showing up to meetings and beong little morningstars girlfriend doesnt help that either!So this will be a fun first meeting~

Vaggie: no no no no no nope! Alastor, you let me go right this second! I am not- no! Alastor! Alastor!!!

Zestial: Alastor and...oh the defensive Overlord nice to meet you again nd to finally meet you

Vaggie: ¿¡Quién diablos es esta araña joder!? (Who the hell is this spider fuck!?)

Part 1 | Part 2(here!!) | Part 3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #chaggie #accidental overlord vaggie au #i feel like Al would be pissed at vaggie knowing charlie told him #he lieks to seem mroe powerful/high and mighty and he cant bw that if she knows he gets info form other people #hes very smug at Vaggies panic though #charlie meanwhile already misses her girlfriend #Nifty throwing herself off the roof doesnt help #hazbin hotel overlord #the egg boizs are having a grand old time though #i used google translate for the Spanish part im sorry if its wrong-#i wanted vaggie to say “who the hell is this spider fuck!?” but everytime i tried it always ended up as something different #i tried for like 1p minutes #i THINK i got it down but im not sure if the '!?' changes any words/symbols #translator says it does but im not 100% how right it is so- if its not that then its 'who the hell is this fucking spider' which still work #not to important i guess lol #diablos actually mgiht mean devil and inferno hell but uh....its- its fine #any spanish speakers feel free to correct me😅

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