my staff is a lollipop

~about me~

here’s links to my twitter (warning for NSFW), my ao3, and my main blog ! (if I follow you back or interact with your posts it’ll be via my main)

Love y'all, enjoy the memes 💖

there is nothing that feels more isolating and hauntingly lonely than being into a fandom that has no G/t content and none of your fandom friends are into g/t and none of your g/t mutuals have even heard of the fandom. it’s like i’m the last member of a near extinct species. i’m drifting alone on a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. no one is here. no one can hear me scream. i’m just screaming about g/t gays but still.

i am once again thinking about the body horror of a tiny and giant merging into one entity. like if their heights averaged out, how horrifying would that be? everything is suddenly so much smaller and larger than it used to be. they’re stronger and weaker, but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s not like they can interact with anything on a familiar scale anyway. they can’t uproot trees but they can’t cradle acorns in their arms. nothing is the same. and they aren’t the same. they’re someone who is composed of unreconcilable differences, and there is nothing familiar enough to provide any comfort. their old favorite blanket is the size of a tissue. their former giant home is an unrecognizably gargantuan cavern. their old tiny friends fear them. their old giant friends can barely see them.

everything is too big and too small.

they are too big and too small.

sooo i am 1) going to a renaissance festival tomorrow, 2) saving up for Activities for when a friend comes visit next month, and 3) saving for a new writing program. so if you want to throw a few dollars at me, it’d be super super appreciated :3

huh? your tiny boyfriend? oh… well I ‘borrowed’ him ;) he’s somewhere… fun, I promise 😇

(the tiny boyfriend in question is in another room, laying on a satin pillow, feeling the entire effects of a 100mg weed gummy on his 2 inch tall body, watching How It’s Made on an ipad)

PSA to all g/t artists currently drawing a tiny: ZOOM OUT. LISTEN. YOU’VE BEEN DRAWING THEIR EYES FOR HALF AN HOUR. THEY ONLY TAKE UP TWENTY PIXELS. SAVE YOURSELF. LOOK AT YOUR FULL CANVAS FREQUENTLY.

and what is your g/t thought of the evening? tell me what sizey stuff is on your mind

im trying to draw again after falling out of the habit and somehow my hand was possessed and i am halfway thru a piece of my ratgirl OC and im so elated with it that i must drop a little preview

anyways this is Snowglobe, she is a former [REDACTED], current lab-rat. and she hates the second soul in the back of her skull. and she hates the scientist she’s in The World’s Least Medically Ethical Situationship with. and she hates me. and she hates you.

I lived in a small village, on the outskirts on the Giant’s Forest. I had never seen the giant, though I’ve heard the tales; he’s as big as the trees and his home could fit the whole village inside, he’s a monstrous beast that one should always avoid. A gargantuan terror, that no one sees and lives to tell the tale.

I did always venture farther into the woods than the others. I feared the Giant as we all do, but all the good forage at the forest edge had been plucked clean, so I went further. I don’t recall how I got injured, but I’ll never forget the tremors of the earth as the Giant approached. I don’t think it was the pain in my leg that made me faint, it was sheer and utter fright.

I woke up on a large pillow, leg bandaged and the dirt wiped off my face. In the Giant’s home. It took time for us to even be able to talk without my terror getting in the way. But I have now been here two weeks, and I. feel. stupid. I am watching The Giant, The Monster of the Forest, the Great Unfathomable Beast, and he just sneezed so hard he hit his head on a doorframe. Yesterday he accidentally stepped on a flower, and cried about it. I spent decades of my life being terrified of this “monster”, and he’s singing showtunes while baking a pie. You’re telling me I was scared all those years FOR NOTHING? I’M KINDA MAD ABOUT IT. HE’S JUST SOME GUY.

borrower me, carefully coming out of my home in the walls. i exit out onto the kitchen cabinet, breathing deeply and taking in the scent of bread and fruit as i walk by. using my fishhook grappling hook, i carefully make my way down to the floor. from there, it takes me twenty minutes to reach the front door, and another ten to climb up and exit via the mail slot. at my two inch height, it takes another half hour to walk out and climb up onto a fence post, so i may sit and watch the sunrise. it’s the first time i’ve been outside the house in months. a hawk swoops down, snatching me up in it’s talons. i am never seen again.