[Original author: gemini, adrift from Writing.com]

Cynthia wasn't ready for the door to her room to unceremoniously open the way it did. She was lost in thought, very nearly drooling as she let her mind wander, and now two giants were lumbering into her "private" space without any care for her comfort. Mary was already a known shape for her, but Brian's colossal body took Cynthia more than a moment to process. He was truly godlike as he stomped right up to the coffee table where she trembled, and glared down at her with his hands on his hips.

Brian and Mary were your typical "it" couple. They checked off pretty much every privilege box you could come up with: they were young, hot, and healthy; they grew up rich, were white, cis, straight, able bodied, and would want for nothing in the world. Especially Brian, whose typical outsized privilege was only growing by the day as the world changed for the better - in his opinion. Cynthia, by contrast, grew up the child of Chinese and Vietnamese parents, poor, and had to fight for every opportunity she had. Now, to top it all off, she was the size of a little brown bug before these pale gods.

"All right, nerd. We need to talk. Mary won't shut up about you and you being all tiny like this is driving her crazy with worry."

Cynthia suddenly felt her hackles rise and she leapt to her little feet. "How is this my fault?!"

Brian's sudden frown was enough to make Cynthia shrink backward.

"This isn't going to work, you staying here. I've already talked to the front desk and we're going to move you into our room." Brian snapped his fingers and barked at Mary: "Gather her things."

"Yes, Brian...!"

Then Brian's cold eyes gazed on Cynthia once again. "As for you, you better get used to your new reality, and fast. After all, it'd be a shame if, say, a giant like me accidentally squished you, wouldn't it?"

Cynthia shivered in Brian's shadow as he moved to the couch and kicked off his flip-flops, and then propped his bare feet up on the table beside her. They absolutely dwarfed her, rippling towers of flesh and muscle. She could see every little detail she never would have imagined, like how she could make out the difference between the sand and dirt and lint that speckled his mighty soles. She could smell how he must have gone to the gym that morning, because the tart funk of sweaty socks overwhelmed her.

"Two options, loser: get on your knees and kiss and lick my feet, or I'm going to step on you."

"Brian, please," Cynthia whimpered in disbelief, but a simple flex of the man's toes drowned out her meek voice with how they cracked.