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 arenât listed below, but are still found under my writing tag! (Ex. The recovery house)
Invisible Strings đ§ââď¸
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 theyâre comfortable enough to start engaging with their human.
Birthday Blues (intro)
Closed Off (angst)
Just a Peek (hurt/comfort⌠and angst)
Grayson and Clay đ (on hold)
My most beloved little darlings. They might never see the light of day.
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Some earlier Jonah and Clover sweetness, many weeks before Sundae Sunday.
âââ
ââŚâNot by the hair on my chiny-chin-chin,â the second little pig said. And so, the big bad wolf huffedâŚâ
Clover squeals, ready for what was coming.
âAnd he puffedâŚâ Jonah was grinning now, eyes locked onto the little fairy that was balanced on his chest, between his face and the storybook.
âAndââ his hand cups behind Clover as he blows. âHe blew the house down!â
The puff of air was enough to knock the tiny little fairy over, beaching her like a sea turtle on her back. He feigns a gasp, laced with amusement.
âAgain, again!â she giggles, clumsily trying to push herself back up, a goal made fruitless with all the movement from Jonahâs laughing.
Noticing her struggle, he gives another light chuckle, hoisting her back up into a sitting position between two fingers.
âWhat do you mean, again? We havenât even finished the story yet.â
âBut the wolf has to blow down the third little piggyâs house.â
Adjusting himself on the couch to stop Clover from toppling over again, Jonah flips the page.
âAh, thatâs where youâre wrong, Lucky. The third little piggyâs house is so strong that the wolf canât blow it down.â
âAww,â she pouts.
âAre you big and strong?â he tries to deflect, giving her a soft poke on her side.
âMhm,â she gives a firm nod. âIâm the biggest and the strongest.â
âI bet you are, especially after all that broccoli.â
Her nose scrunches up. âYucky.â
Jonah smiles, continuing on with the story. âAnd so, the two little piggies ran as fast as they could, all the way to the third little piggyâs house.â
âThatâs right.â He had read this story countless times to her over the last few weeks, and still, she couldnât seem to get tired of it.
âCan I read it this time?â 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.
ââŚThe End. All done!â 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.
âThanks, Daddy,â she says casually, burrying herself against him.
Thereâs a beat where his hand pauses, still being tickled faintly by the uneven flapping of her wings.
âWhat did you just say?â he breaths out, caught off guard by the title.
âI said thank you for letting me read the story.â
âNo, no, the other part. The calling me Dad part.â
Clover was distracted, running her tiny hands over the textured stitches on Jonahâs collar.
âClover?â
âHmm?â
âClover, honey, Iâm not your dad. Iâm just Jonah.â
âNuh uh.â
âNuh uh?â 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. âYouâre not Jonah, youâre my dad.â
âAnd what makes you so sure of that?â he challenges, a mixture of flattery and worry weaving into his voice.
âJelly told me.â
âJelissa told you⌠that Iâm your dad?â
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 heâd known Eli.
âYes.â
His brows furrow. âSomehow I doubt that.â
âShe said that mummies and daddies are the ones that tell you stories and tuck you in for bed, and make yummy breakfast.â
His heart swells. âSo you think thatâs what I am?â
âYeah,â she gives him a big smile.
He scratches the back of his neck, wondering what to do here. Clover knew she wasnât staying with him forever, and by no means did Jonah think of himself as her father-figure. Not just yet, anyway.
âEli makes yummy breakfasts, too. And sometimes Marve tucks you into bed.â
âNo, no! But you also sing songs and get me pajamas and all those stuff.â She gestures to the pair she was wearing, a soft set covered with pink and purple unicorn detailing.
âYouâre the bestest dad in the whole wide world. Ever.â She gives him a firm pat on the chest.
Jonah winces. âWell⌠I appreciate it, but you know that Iâm not really your dad. Donât you, Clover?â
âWhy?â she zones out a bit, playing with the buttons on her shirt.
Another question. She was full of those.
âWhy? Well, because⌠youâre a fairy. And Iâmââ
âAnd youâre big?â
âYeah. And Iâm big. It just doesnât work like that, sweetheart.â
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.
âDonât be sad, Lucky. I love hanging out with you. Youâre the bravest, smartest, coolest kid I know.â
âAnd the biggest and strongest?â she croaks, rubbing at her eyes.
âAnd the biggest and strongest,â he chuckles. âBut youâre not mine.â
âOkay, Daddy.â
âOkay, Jonah,â he corrects, sitting up on the couch.
âOops,â she giggles again through her last spillage of quick tears. âOkay, Jonah,â she echoes, craning her head up to look at him.
âAtta girl.â He ruffles her hair with his thumb.
Clover grabs onto it, pulling it close to her chest.
âI love you, Jonah.â
âI love you too, pipsqueak. Now letâs get you to bed.â As Jonah stands up, Clover topples over in a half-somersault, faceplanting in his palm.
âAw, shit,â she chirps.
His eyes widen.
âWho taught you that word?â 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.
âShawn,â 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.
âWell, Shawn and Jelissa are getting a talking-to first thing in the morning. So you better get some shut eye,â he affirms, holding her close to his chest as he moves to leave the office.
Touchâ we all know this one. Warmth, calluses, pressure, stomach drops.
Sightâ 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.
Smellâ totally amplified and instantly familiar. Tinies becoming accustomed to curling up with a particular giant and recognizing that theyâre still safe and able to sleep when they stir and smell the unmistakable scent of them. Just surrounding them.
Soundâ the soft rumbling of a voice, the woosh of a gust of air being displaced as fingers draw near, heartbeats, footsteps. Thumping and buzzing.
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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, weâve know each other for so long. Why not introduce the tiny to the giantâs best friend? The only other person theyâd trust to know about said tiny.
So the giant takes the tiny in their pocket and heads over to their best friendâs house âto have a quick chat,â which coincidentally, their best friend reciprocated, saying they âhave something to show them.â
They have the casual small talk, the tiny is a little nervous, but feels safe in the giantâs 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 giantâs friend then pulls out the bloody, mangled corpse of another tiny.
The giantâs heart beats wildly, muscles tensed. Theyâve gone completely pale and have lost the ability to speak. The tiny in their pocket can feel it, but they donât know why. They couldnât possibly guess what the giantâs 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 theyâre going to throw up. Theyâre terrified. Hyper-aware of the little being tucked up against them.
At this point the tiny understands whatâs going on, but hasnât 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 giantâs friend goes on to ask, âAnyway, that was my treat. What it is it that you wanted to tell me?â So casual about it. Still looking over the other tiny in their hands.
âOh, uh.â They swallow the lump in their throat. âNothing. Nothing, I just wanted to catch up.â
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 friendâs fingers. The size of them is sickening.
And oh boy. When the giant takes the tiny home that night, theyâve 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 âit,â the casual manhanding of the body, the comments about how theyâd do it again if they found another one. All trust being lost. Gutting.
Bonus points: instead of a best friend of the giant, itâs a relative/parent/lover. Someone they canât just cut off without explanation. Someone theyâre 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. Itâs 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 sheâs 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 (Jelissaâs fave) is out of town. Bold of anyone to assume Eli is doing anything without Mistyâs permission smh. Misty is literally in his hoodie pocket taking at nap at that very moment while he strokes Jelissaâs hair and coos over her to tell her everythingâs alright and it wasnât 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 isnât 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 itâs very possible the tinier species would be discriminated against. Idk.
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Conversations in g/t are so hard. I mean writing scenes for conversations. Sometimes I donât want my giant to be shifting the tiny around. Theyâre literally just sitting together and talking. I find it so difficult to write long conversations between a giant and tiny because they arenât DOING anything to add onto the evident size difference in the scene, itâs just there. Grayson and Clay do nothing but talk, and itâs tough writing convos because straight up theyâll 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 theyâre casually speaking to each other. But itâs tough to keep wedging in things like the giantâs breaths and the warmth and everything to remind a reader that the scale is impactful. Itâs like I wish you didnât 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 sheâll just make Eli hold her up to his face and look at her reflection through his big blue eyes. Itâs a win-win because he gets to look at her and she gets to get whatever she wanted done while being in his hands. Theyâre 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. Itâs 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 sheâll lose her mind. Misty sees parallels of herself in Jelly and sheâs so desperate to be a literal wingwoman for her and Shawn that she just starts blurting things out and making it really obvious. Sheâs messy. Sheâs my bbg.
The art of tinies incorrectly perceiving giant âwounds,â theyâre looking at the paper cut on the tip of a giantâs finger and are panicking/on the verge of puking because thatâs a LOT of blood and the giant definitely needs a bandaid and omg that must hurt so much. And the giant thinks itâs so cute and sweet how concerned they are but at the same time they couldnât care less and really didnât even notice the cut until the tiny pointed it out. Yummy.
Misty doesnât fit anywhere in the recovery house and she never did.
Because she has chronic wing spasms, she canât fly, but sheâs still GOT THEM.
She doesnât fit in with the other fairies who still have their wings intact because she canât fly. But she doesnât fit in with the fairies who canât fly because she still actually has fully intact wings. Sheâs an outcast to everyone.
The amount of times someone has asked her âWell.. why donât you just fly up, Mist?â kills her. The only person who hasnât 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. Sheâs 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 sheâs in.
Shawnâs like that with her in a backup-sense, because heâs best friends with Eli, so heâs pretty much forced to understand out of obligation. Heâs got a sweet connection with Misty but itâll NEVER top the attachment she has to Eli. And everyone at that house knows it, Jonah even knows to tell rookies; âif Mistyâs having an episode, call Eli, not me.â Because her devotion to Eli supersedes Jonahâs experience.
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I have so many drafts. So many. Oml. Iâm trying not to release them all at once but gosh there are so many prompts and rambles bye and they just keep piling up đ
I just KNOW there are movie scenes similar to this but, big scary Giant has bonded with a tiny. Tinyâs friend gets caught up in this mess because they followed them into the woods/entered the portal/stumbled into the giantâs house etc. giant is currently dangling the friend by their collar because they wouldnât shut their mouth and made it clear how much they hate giants. The giantâs tiny friend then runs in and goes âHey! No no no no! Put them down!â And the giant just looks at their tiny like What? This little freak is getting on my last nerve?
âPut. Them. Down. Down⌠atta boy.â
And the giantâs just pouting. The tinyâs 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. âWhat is he like⌠your pet or something?â And theyâre met with an offended snarl. Giggling.