primarily g/t prompts, media plugs, and hot takes.
The #mimi made a list tag is for my long-form prompt lists or where I go into a lot of detail for a g/t concept.
All my writing is SFW.
my writing tag
Some of my stories aren’t listed below, but are still found under my writing tag! (Ex. The recovery house)
Invisible Strings 🧚♀️
A universe in which humans are assigned a fairy companion once they come of age. Fairies have invisibility charms that they often keep up until they’re comfortable enough to start engaging with their human.
Birthday Blues (intro)
Closed Off (angst)
Just a Peek (hurt/comfort… and angst)
Grayson and Clay 🏒 (on hold)
My most beloved little darlings. They might never see the light of day.
“That’s right.” He had read this story countless times to her over the last few weeks, and still, she couldn’t seem to get tired of it.
“Can I read it this time?” she asks giddily, tiny wings fluttering with excitement.
Jonah nods, gesturing for her to go on.
Clover fumbles over her own made-up order of events, vaguely picking up on the context from the pictures and familiarity.
She lost track a few times, attention grabbed by the colourful, textured houses and trees made of felt, until the wolf had ran away and the pigs were living happily ever after.
“…The End. All done!” She signs the motion with her hands to couple the declaration.
Jonah shuts the book and sets it on the couch as the little fairy crawls further up his chest, settling against the crook of his neck.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she says casually, burrying herself against him.
There’s a beat where his hand pauses, still being tickled faintly by the uneven flapping of her wings.
“What did you just say?” he breaths out, caught off guard by the title.
“I said thank you for letting me read the story.”
“No, no, the other part. The calling me Dad part.”
Clover was distracted, running her tiny hands over the textured stitches on Jonah’s collar.
“Clover?”
“Hmm?”
“Clover, honey, I’m not your dad. I’m just Jonah.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Nuh uh?” he parrots, dumbfounded, as he pulls her away from his neck to get a better look at her.
She giggles, squirming in his grip before he sets her back down on his chest. “You’re not Jonah, you’re my dad.”
“And what makes you so sure of that?” he challenges, a mixture of flattery and worry weaving into his voice.
“Jelly told me.”
“Jelissa told you… that I’m your dad?”
She was one of the fairies that lived in the recovery house. A close friend of Shawn, who Jonah had known for as long as he’d known Eli.
“Yes.”
His brows furrow. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“She said that mummies and daddies are the ones that tell you stories and tuck you in for bed, and make yummy breakfast.”
His heart swells. “So you think that’s what I am?”
“Yeah,” she gives him a big smile.
He scratches the back of his neck, wondering what to do here. Clover knew she wasn’t staying with him forever, and by no means did Jonah think of himself as her father-figure. Not just yet, anyway.
“Eli makes yummy breakfasts, too. And sometimes Marve tucks you into bed.”
“No, no! But you also sing songs and get me pajamas and all those stuff.” She gestures to the pair she was wearing, a soft set covered with pink and purple unicorn detailing.
“You’re the bestest dad in the whole wide world. Ever.” She gives him a firm pat on the chest.
Jonah winces. “Well… I appreciate it, but you know that I’m not really your dad. Don’t you, Clover?”
“Why?” she zones out a bit, playing with the buttons on her shirt.
Another question. She was full of those.
“Why? Well, because… you’re a fairy. And I’m—“
“And you’re big?”
“Yeah. And I’m big. It just doesn’t work like that, sweetheart.”
The sudden pout on her face made him falter, her little eyes filling with tears.
He nudges her gently with a finger, pushing her into his palm.
“Don’t be sad, Lucky. I love hanging out with you. You’re the bravest, smartest, coolest kid I know.”
“And the biggest and strongest?” she croaks, rubbing at her eyes.
“And the biggest and strongest,” he chuckles. “But you’re not mine.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Okay, Jonah,” he corrects, sitting up on the couch.
“Oops,” she giggles again through her last spillage of quick tears. “Okay, Jonah,” she echoes, craning her head up to look at him.
“Atta girl.” He ruffles her hair with his thumb.
Clover grabs onto it, pulling it close to her chest.
“I love you, Jonah.”
“I love you too, pipsqueak. Now let’s get you to bed.” As Jonah stands up, Clover topples over in a half-somersault, faceplanting in his palm.
“Aw, shit,” she chirps.
His eyes widen.
“Who taught you that word?” He brings her up to his face, using his fingers to help her settle in the center of his palm again, expecting her to deflect.
“Shawn,” she says without hesitation, or any ounce of guilt. In fact, a cheeky smile was beginning to creep up on her face.
He was surprised she had used it correctly, more than anything.
“Well, Shawn and Jelissa are getting a talking-to first thing in the morning. So you better get some shut eye,” he affirms, holding her close to his chest as he moves to leave the office.
Touch— we all know this one. Warmth, calluses, pressure, stomach drops.
Sight— just the SCALE. The amplification of everything. Seeing individual eyelashes and colour flecks in the iris. Skin dips and creases in the face. Fingerprints. A landscape of a person.
Smell— totally amplified and instantly familiar. Tinies becoming accustomed to curling up with a particular giant and recognizing that they’re still safe and able to sleep when they stir and smell the unmistakable scent of them. Just surrounding them.
Sound— the soft rumbling of a voice, the woosh of a gust of air being displaced as fingers draw near, heartbeats, footsteps. Thumping and buzzing.
A giant befriends a tiny and has to keep them a secret. Maybe the tiny species is known but frowned upon, or entirely undiscovered by the giants, either way; this giant has been keeping their tiny hidden from EVERYONE.
After months of bonding etc they talk it over and decide, hey, we’ve know each other for so long. Why not introduce the tiny to the giant’s best friend? The only other person they’d trust to know about said tiny.
So the giant takes the tiny in their pocket and heads over to their best friend’s house “to have a quick chat,” which coincidentally, their best friend reciprocated, saying they “have something to show them.”
They have the casual small talk, the tiny is a little nervous, but feels safe in the giant’s pocket. Trusts them with their life at this point. When the giant is just about to reveal the tiny, their friend perks up and decides they want to speak first.
The giant’s friend then pulls out the bloody, mangled corpse of another tiny.
The giant’s heart beats wildly, muscles tensed. They’ve gone completely pale and have lost the ability to speak. The tiny in their pocket can feel it, but they don’t know why. They couldn’t possibly guess what the giant’s friend had to show them.
Pinched between careless fingers. Being turned this way and that. The friend has a smirk or a sneer on their face. Commenting about how they found the little thing, how it was trespassing, how useless their kind are, making a mockery of the limp body between their fingers. Carrying it like a hunting trophy.
The giant feels like they’re going to throw up. They’re terrified. Hyper-aware of the little being tucked up against them.
At this point the tiny understands what’s going on, but hasn’t seen the full extent of it. They feel their giant clutching their chest or protectively curling their hands around them from inside the pocket, almost so tight that it hurts. Subtly backing away from their friend in an attempt to get the tiny as far away from them as possible.
The giant’s friend goes on to ask, “Anyway, that was my treat. What it is it that you wanted to tell me?” So casual about it. Still looking over the other tiny in their hands.
“Oh, uh.” They swallow the lump in their throat. “Nothing. Nothing, I just wanted to catch up.”
Their eyes are still locked on the body, and for a second, their own tiny friend flashes into their mind, the image of them bloody and pinched between their best friend’s fingers. The size of them is sickening.
And oh boy. When the giant takes the tiny home that night, they’ve never been more clingy and terrified for them. In tears and shambles and not putting them down, practically traumatized at the sight their best friend just put them through. Ough. The way they referred to the tiny as an “it,” the casual manhanding of the body, the comments about how they’d do it again if they found another one. All trust being lost. Gutting.
Bonus points: instead of a best friend of the giant, it’s a relative/parent/lover. Someone they can’t just cut off without explanation. Someone they’re stuck with and thus, will be in close vicinity to the tiny without knowing. Losing perception of this person because they truly believed they would have the same stance, that a person is a person no matter the fact that they fit between their fingers. It’s emotional whiplash.
A few fairies watching Jelissa curled up on the couch with Eli and muttering amongst themselves trying to figure out how tf this is happening and where Misty is and how she’s gonna freak out if she sees Eli hanging out with another fairy. Little do they know Misty practically shoved Jelissa into his hands because she was having a really bad speech block in front of Shawn and that speech block turned into a semi-panic-attack while Jonah (Jelissa’s fave) is out of town. Bold of anyone to assume Eli is doing anything without Misty’s permission smh. Misty is literally in his hoodie pocket taking at nap at that very moment while he strokes Jelissa’s hair and coos over her to tell her everything’s alright and it wasn’t as embarrassing as she thought.
Something about the classic wattpad mixed-size-society high school g/t stories that really had me foaming at the mouth when I was younger. Now I find the trope is usually half-baked and gives me the heebie jeebies if it isn’t done right or half of them are bully-romances and straight up marginalization of the tiny species with zero realism as to how people actually would act despite the fact that it’s very possible the tinier species would be discriminated against. Idk.
Conversations in g/t are so hard. I mean writing scenes for conversations. Sometimes I don’t want my giant to be shifting the tiny around. They’re literally just sitting together and talking. I find it so difficult to write long conversations between a giant and tiny because they aren’t DOING anything to add onto the evident size difference in the scene, it’s just there. Grayson and Clay do nothing but talk, and it’s tough writing convos because straight up they’ll just be lying down. Not even touching. Yes the giant is huge and the tiny is tiny and that sheer difference is felt by both parties while they’re casually speaking to each other. But it’s tough to keep wedging in things like the giant’s breaths and the warmth and everything to remind a reader that the scale is impactful. It’s like I wish you didn’t HAVE to mention the size and it could just exist in space for a little bit so the two parties can just TALK. A lack of constant reminders that the giant is still breathing or that the tiny is STILL craning their head up.
Sometimes if there are too many fae crowding around a mirror and Misty wants to do her hair/makeup/adjust her clothes she’ll just make Eli hold her up to his face and look at her reflection through his big blue eyes. It’s a win-win because he gets to look at her and she gets to get whatever she wanted done while being in his hands. They’re such losers smh.
Misty immediately sensing that Jelly has a big fat crush on Shawn, and because Shawn and Eli are BEST friends she immediately loves her so much because Shawn is the third out of three humans (the others being Jonah and Eli) that Misty will let touch her. And to think that someone feels the way about Shawn that Misty feels about Eli is SOOO exciting for her. It’s like finally another fairy is being brought into HER space. Shawn is her space. Eli is just hers, but Shawn is her SPACE. Shawn is a backup that she needs or she’ll lose her mind. Misty sees parallels of herself in Jelly and she’s so desperate to be a literal wingwoman for her and Shawn that she just starts blurting things out and making it really obvious. She’s messy. She’s my bbg.
The art of tinies incorrectly perceiving giant “wounds,” they’re looking at the paper cut on the tip of a giant’s finger and are panicking/on the verge of puking because that’s a LOT of blood and the giant definitely needs a bandaid and omg that must hurt so much. And the giant thinks it’s so cute and sweet how concerned they are but at the same time they couldn’t care less and really didn’t even notice the cut until the tiny pointed it out. Yummy.
Misty doesn’t fit anywhere in the recovery house and she never did.
Because she has chronic wing spasms, she can’t fly, but she’s still GOT THEM.
She doesn’t fit in with the other fairies who still have their wings intact because she can’t fly. But she doesn’t fit in with the fairies who can’t fly because she still actually has fully intact wings. She’s an outcast to everyone.
The amount of times someone has asked her “Well.. why don’t you just fly up, Mist?” kills her. The only person who hasn’t commented on it at least once is Eli.
He never questioned why she follows him around like a little duckling, she just does. He adjusts his steps for her and gives her the freedom to do so without just picking her up and taking her where she needs to go. She might be glued onto him like no one else but somehow he makes her feel more independent than ever. She’s got him with her if she ever needs him, but for the most part, being with Eli is what lets her be herself in the awkward middle-ground wing situation that she’s in.
Shawn’s like that with her in a backup-sense, because he’s best friends with Eli, so he’s pretty much forced to understand out of obligation. He’s got a sweet connection with Misty but it’ll NEVER top the attachment she has to Eli. And everyone at that house knows it, Jonah even knows to tell rookies; “if Misty’s having an episode, call Eli, not me.” Because her devotion to Eli supersedes Jonah’s experience.
I have so many drafts. So many. Oml. I’m trying not to release them all at once but gosh there are so many prompts and rambles bye and they just keep piling up 😭
I just KNOW there are movie scenes similar to this but, big scary Giant has bonded with a tiny. Tiny’s friend gets caught up in this mess because they followed them into the woods/entered the portal/stumbled into the giant’s house etc. giant is currently dangling the friend by their collar because they wouldn’t shut their mouth and made it clear how much they hate giants. The giant’s tiny friend then runs in and goes “Hey! No no no no! Put them down!” And the giant just looks at their tiny like What? This little freak is getting on my last nerve?
“Put. Them. Down. Down… atta boy.”
And the giant’s just pouting. The tiny’s friend is out of breath and staring up at the friend in horror, then up at the giant. Eyes darting back and forth as they connect the dots. “What is he like… your pet or something?” And they’re met with an offended snarl. Giggling.
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