Tinypissyfairy - You Must Be THIS TALL To Read This Blog - Tumblr Blog

You’re relaxing… you feel at peace.

Sitting in your giant friend or s/o’s cupped hands, close to their chest, as they take a walk through the park.

You feel the warmth from their body engulfing you… protecting you from the slightly chilly, beginning of spring, weather.

You see trees, larger than life, starting to bloom above you both. You smell flowers, some of which you sneeze at because of the pollen.

Your giant partner silently awes at your tiny little sneezes, they think you are the most adorable little thing they’ve ever seen.

You eventually return home… your partner setting you on the kitchen counter while they take off their jacket. You smile at them. You smile wide.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because there’s no one I’d rather be with.”

I think part of why I love the giant/tiny dynamic for friendships sm is bc it requires *so* much trust. Like I have such a hard time trusting people irl but at the same time wish it was easier for me to be emotionally close/vulnerable with people. And bc of that the idea of trusting someone sm even if they’re several times ur size and could easily hurt u but knowing that they absolutely never will is such a nice concept.

posts a draw just to post a write,,sizeshifter button au

Amber had been trying to motivate him out of bed, but she ended up slumped against it, knees propped up, with a groggy teddy-bear sized Jules in her lap.

“what are you thinkin’ about, little guy?”

He grumbled against her chest as she ran a finger through his hair. “I have to study. For exams.”

She hummed sympathetically. “I’ll help you.”

“But you have your own thing.”

“I finished early.”

He pulled back to give her a hopeful glance, before sinking back against her legs. “I don’t want to eat into your free time.”

Amber curled up tighter to press him into her, pressing a warm kiss to his forehead. “You’re my free time, tinkerbell. Let me help you.”

Her hair fell around him and he pushed it out of his face, giggling. “Not tinkerbell-,”

“Like that one?”

“God, no.”

“There’s more where that came from.”

“Anything tasteful?”

“Tom thumb.”

“Hm.”

“Thumbelina.”

“those are basically the same thing.”

“Pipsqueak?” He blushed but recoiled. “How about…my love? Little dove? Darling? Little mouse?” She loomed above him, elbows on her knees. “Morsel?” She purred. Jules probably didn’t even realize he was shrinking until she tilted his chin up with a finger to see his face, flush and rosy with a smile he was failing to suppress. “Ahh. Gotcha.”

He rolled his eyes, peeling away from her gaze, arms trying to hide himself. “You can’t just do that.”

“I can do whatever i want, I’m a giant.” She shifted down the side of bed, making him stumble against her.

“You’re cruel.” He propped himself up on her belly.

“You’re pretty.” Her teasing grin faltered for a moment. She’d meant it to throw him off, but she found herself meaning it. The little man in her lap was used to her teasing, but his shell cracked easily, green eyes widening under tousled blonde hair.

He stammered. “I thought you were trying to get me out of bed.”

She took another moment, breath slowing, before a more genuine smile tugged at her lips. “That’s right. You can stare star-struck into my eyes as i make breakfast.”

Jules scoffed and climbed into her awaiting hand, where he stumbled and caught himself on her fingers as she rose to her feet. She could tell his energy was already draining.

He sunk sleepily against her neck as she placed him on her shoulder. “Thank you for helping me.” He said quietly. Amber didn’t pause as she donned her slippers before stepping into the cold kitchen, chuckling softly.

“I love you. You’re not my burden.”

Inspired by a text post from @ghostorbconnoisseur, I drew this lil comic with myself and @territorial-utopia! Featuring a new art style I'm testing out-

I don’t talk about shrinking enough for someone who really fucking loves it as a trope, but today i was thinking about like...holding someone, feeling them shrink before your eyes rather than just watching. And I'm obsessed with it rn. So here...have this..

They were facing you at first, next thing you know they stumble and you catch them, arms under theirs, their head on your shoulder for a brief moment ‘til it’s not, for the change starts to overcome them rapidly; and soon you feel their weight drop against you entirely as their feet leave the ground and you realise, looking down to see their head barely at chest height, that you are holding them up. Their legs are dangling and you quickly crouch down, trying to keep them standing while still supporting them; their hands clutching the fabric of your shirt, fingers getting smaller by the second. But it’s not stopping yet. You can see panic in their eyes, fear even as they get even smaller; their weight feeling less and less against you as you sink to your knees, following them down to the ground; you don’t want to pick them up and humiliate them, you’re trying so very hard to keep their feet on the ground...but soon you’re less standing there with them, supporting them; and more looming over as they clutch in panicked desperation at you. Your arms don’t fit under their own anymore, but your hands do, and you wrap them round their chest to keep them from falling as the change overtakes them; with abject shock you realise your fingertips touch as you fold your digits around them. They’re tiny now, smaller than you ever thought possible for another human being to be, and you can feel a miniature heart fluttering against your palm; tears pricking in their eyes as they crane their neck back to look you in the eye. You can almost hear their thoughts.

It’s not stopping.

It’s not stopping, why isn’t it stopping?

They’re petrified, not of you, however. You suck in a deep breath as you feel them shrink in your hands, smaller and smaller until your palms engulf their entire torso; they’re like a doll now, and you realise the time has come to give up trying to keep them standing. You feel an overwhelming urge to protect them, hold them close just to give them some semblance of comfort; and so you do. You whisper an apology, terrified you might frighten them; and then you tighten your grip ever so slightly and lift. Tiny hands clutch at your digits, a gasp so small you can barely hear it rises from a shocked face, but they do not begin to squirm; though, looking at the toll the ordeals having on them you wonder if they simply do not have the strength to do so anymore. They dwindle more and you adjust your hold, able to grasp them one-handed now; the gentle squeeze of your grip surrounding their body and legs as you wonder just how small they can go. It’s hard to truly read expressions on a face that small, but you hope and pray that terror on their face isn’t directed at you. As they continue to shrink down you do the only thing you can think to do; you bring them up to your chest, and you hold them there in as close as a hug as you can manage. You lay your palm against them, pressing them right over your heart with a gentle touch; trying to ignore the fact you can feel their outline getting even tinier as they are held between your shirt and the plush surface of your hand. What are they now? Two inches tall? You can’t see them, they’re engulfed, hidden from view; and, as you try to focus on calming your own panicked breathing, it seems the gentle pressure against them does the trick. You feel their shrinking slow, grinding to a halt as they lay there; you wonder what they’re thinking, what it’s like to be in that dark, soft crevasse right over your heart. That little safe nook you made just for them, protecting them by surrounding them; encasing them in comfort. You feel them shift, and you briefly tilt your hand to peer down at them….

It’s stopped. It’s finally ended, and there they are; so impossibly small and yet unharmed, safe and sound there with you. They look up, and you almost burst into tears as you meet that pinprick gaze. The smallest lips part, and for a moment you fear they’re going to scream; can they even recognise what you look like now? They’re shorter than your pinkie finger….you must look like a monster.

But then, so quiet anyone but you might miss, a single phrase is spoken.

“Thank you”

And you wonder if they can feel your heart skip a beat against them.

Inspired by a text post from @ghostorbconnoisseur, I drew this lil comic with myself and @territorial-utopia! Featuring a new art style I'm testing out-

I’ll talk to anyone about anything, I’m pretty old and I’ve seen some frankly weird shit. Also I’m good for music recommendations.

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.

it’s snowing in the woods.

the trees are so full of snow, it’s as if their leaves have come back white, branches encased in a frigid cocoon. it’s quiet, aside from the wind’s howl. the currents of the forest have slowed to a crawl. nothing travels far. i do as i always do in these storms: check for little things. sometimes it’s an injured deer, a bear whose cave has collapsed, or—my favorite—a little lost traveler. huddled beneath the frosted branches, they always freeze when they see me: emerging from the swirling snow as a towering bundle of woven layers, snowflakes settled on my head like a frozen crown. sometimes they run, when they see me. they never get far, wading through waist or chest deep snow, limbs sluggish and stiff. sometimes they hide, climbing into trees or burying themselves between roots—and it takes some coaxing to convince them to leave their temporary safety for something more secure. sometimes, they come entirely willingly, collapsing into open hands, curling against upturned palms and clinging to warm fingers, melting the snow from their frozen faces. no matter how they initially react, they find themselves given murmured promises of shelter as they’re tucked between the folds of thick wool. if there is any struggle left, this is where it usually calms. between the blizzard and the giant, they tend to pick the latter. the weather has no compassion for little things, or anything at all. it is not its job, to be compassionate. but the little things are safe with me, shielded as i carry on my search, heavy heartbeat drowning out the wind’s howl through the sea of trees.

it’s snowing in the woods, but there is nothing to fear; i’ll keep the cold at bay.

V ON TWITTER V ON TWITTER *throwing table through wall* *walking through hole firing sixguns into air* V ON TWITTER

digital shenanigans ... the idea of borrowers on social media is so funny to me

They are my very favorite new G/t thing.

If V and Avery swapped sizes for a day what madness would be unleashed.

omg this is such a good question !! if the two swapped sizes all kinds of funny business would occur.

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Avery’s super chill, she is calm when she talks and doesn't make many sudden movements. She also doesn't get angry very easily - sure, V can annoy her, but she never yells or gets physical. V has never been particularly scared of her because her tone of voice and demeanor make her easy to be around.

V, on the other hand, talks a lot with her hands and is very energetic and loud. So if the pair woke up one morning to their current sizes swapped it would probably go like this:

Avery was not scared of V (because they've been dating for awhile and V would never hurt her), but she was concerned that V would not know how to behave around a tiny person (she was right - it took V awhile to learn to talk quieter).

After the initial commotion of this change wore off, the girls got dressed for the day. Sometimes when they have impromptu sleepovers, V gets lazy and sleeps with her dress and ribbon on. Avery usually sleeps in a sports bra and shorts, and she soon realized the only thing that would fit her were V's other dresses (she was not very thrilled).

Now that V is appropriately sized to do human things, she has a ton of stuff she wants to do. 

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here’s some fun little drawings of them chilling at home !!

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now if Avery was a borrower and V was a human, their paths probably would have never crossed because Avery isn't reckless and V would have been disgusted to find out a small person was living in her walls.

OK BUT I DO IMAGINE THAT ALREADY ALL THE TIME

stares at cham's accurate height bagley and obermann drawings. thinks abt how big cam would be in the gtms au. has 2 go breathe into a paper bag for a bit.

Picture this:

You lie in bed in the morning, your partner walks in, straddling you and giving you a good morning kiss. The kiss sends tingles down your spine, and you notice everything around you growing.

Soon you fall fully into your partner's shadow. They tease you, telling you how small you look, and utterly at their mercy. All the while their hands run along your body, covering more and more surface area as the moments go by.

Their finger slips under your shirt, the tip taking up half of your chest. "I want to hear this tiny humminbird heart" and before you know it, their ear presses you down into the pillow. You can smell the shampoo they used as you are trapped in the dim space, feeling the curves of their earlobe pressing into you. Your heart races and they let out a gentle laugh. The pressure disappears and light floods back in. You are met with a gigantic stare.

"I want to bury you into me. Hide you from the world. My very own treasure..." the words are accompanied by caressing fingertips mapping out your small stature. You are no longer than their index finger. A moment later you are englufed in lips that explore your whole body like the fingers had just moments before. "I want to toy with your body, to worship all 3 inches of it."

You are reduced to a blushing mess.

I would definitely get nailed by listening to the 15 year old mp3 player I stole 14 years ago too loudly. Giant all like “that sincerely sounds like a Bulgarian goat bladder bagpipe orchestra coming from behind the towel closet”.

Reblog with how you think you’d get caught as a borrower.

I’ll go first.

I’d get caught because I’d be lonely and then risk my life trying to secretly hug the human. That or, I’d get caught trying to take a whole cookie for myself.

I’ve been looking at this for a day and I cannot stress enough how much I’d love to be in this situation, this boring unexciting quotidian situation. I can imagine so much backstory just from this.

wanted to draw some cutesy gt~

wanted to draw some cutesy gt~

OK. With one relationship therapist, I admitted that I like giant women. She says, oh, like 300 pounds? I say, no, like 300 feet. And she looked at me like my head was on backwards. She was wholly unable to process the information. That having been said, my personal therapist was unfazed, and in fact during one depressive episode she ended a session by saying, you know what, this weekend, BE two inches tall. I said, if that happens you will never see me again. We both laughed. I stopped laughing and stared at her. She kept laughing until she saw my face.

I low key think it’s absolutely fascinating to hear what “preferences” someone has within G/t. Like…not just F/m, M/m, etc., but also preferences on how tall a Giant should be/small a Tiny should be, personality traits for either, romantic or platonic or familial, Tiny in a Human world (making the Humans the Giants) vs. Giant in a Human world (making the Humans the Tinies).

Maybe it’s just the psychology stuff I’ve studied? But this stuff fascinates me.