#gt wip

[gtzel]

Bro

Anyone got some basic ass gt fics with a decent amount of fearplay and comfort? It doesn’t even need to have an over the top plot-though if it did I would be esthetic-I just need a story to obsess over! I need characters that I can draw fan art of, and a story that I can over analyze, I need to read a story that I can be over sharing to my friends about. I need a gt story.

So yeah uhm, tag me if you want me to read your stories

[sarah-kings]

For the wip ask game, if you want?

"And now I'm stuck with this smug little bastard"

Have a cookie 🍪

Goodbye!

Of course, I'm always open for asks :)

Now, this is one of my WIPs that I am VERY excited about, as it is a part of the giant story that I have been writing for the past five years.

To start things off right away: yes, it does include gt, as my very first draft that even started the entirety of my writing was the gt brainrot I wasn't even aware of back then.

I am both tempted to blabber all about my plans for this WIP just as much as I am tempted to keep it secretive and mysterious.

I'm sorry for the slight delay in the reply, but I wanted to get the green light from my friend @a-weird-cryptid , since this WIP includes some of their characters, since we have joined both of our stories together.

If I only were to speak of what direction this WIP is heading in I would say it is similar to SCP, Inside job, the Magnus archives and Stargate SG-1, as I love the idea of science fiction and a show exploring some sort of deep state that keeps certain things hidden from the public eyes

Now, when looking at this entire story plot-wise the basic summary I would give would be this: Imagine you are one of the most intelligent scientists who has worked at a top secret facility since you were able to legally have a job, you have contained and studied many threats for the human race and you have invented uncountably many technologies that the public isn't even allowed to be aware of.

Just a basic Tuesday for Jack, the facility exceeds thausonds of years and he sure as hell won't be the last to work at it.

One day, however, his entire facility has been hacked and all the top secret documents are in danger of getting exposed to the public, so naturally the threat is tracked down and Jack investigates whoever has both the nerves and intelligence to bypass their security.

Dr Anderson didn't know what he was expecting, but he sure didn't expect to end up at a small, cheap apartment, face to face with a teen who should definitely have been at school instead of her answering the door, giving him that smug look when seeing his utterly dumbfounded one in return.

The only thing that shoots through Jack's head in this moment is "all I came here for was to take care of the issue and now I'm stuck with this smug little bastard"

My plan so far is that, instead of writing this story as I usually would, I want to create an animated teaser about this WIP, for which I have been planning the layout of.

My only issue would be to find people who would be willing to do some voice acting for the characters, but I am hopeful to find someone who'd be willing to do so.

Again, this is a project I'm VERY excited about so thank you so much for the ask :D

I'll most definitely will post some reference sheets once I have the opportunity to sit down at my computer and would be more than happy to share my process of animating and behind the scenes content

[luckyloo13]

I shouldnt be allowed technology

[tiny-wyrms]

They would have loved this. You never got to show them.

(scene from so small)

[entomolog-t]

Full size not meme-y version of these two <3

I've been playing around with some alternate fits for Aedes (not necessarily design change but more so givin' him some options)

I like a lil mix of like 50-60s with some vaguely Victorian elements.

[pipinpali]

Sketch i really liked but will not actually happen nor be finished bc it was supposed to be paired with writing i rewrote to be an. Entirely different scene.

Also the perspective is really weird

[puddingforg]

what is hunter got sick? like the flu or cold? would that make it hard to control his size shifting ability? and how would Owen help? i mean one sneeze when hunter is giant and he flys away probably…

Well Hunter’s size-shifting abilities are mostly emotion driven so there’s not much to worry, tho stuff like this ⬇️ still happens

I don’t think a sneeze or cough can cause enough discomfort to make him go full giant, a fever may be more complicated, but as long as Hunter stays chill nothing should happen, HOWEVER ☝️ If for whatever other reason he were to go full giant while sick, he would try to stay as far away from everybody as possible, which would be essentially impossible with Owen around who would be ofc trying to help and some sort of “Tom and Jerry” dynamic would develop where Hunter would be trying to escape Owen as much as possible as to not put him in any possible dangerous situation and Owen would not give a f*ck

[ipilokko]

I am terribly sorry for not posting anything 😭

You see, the school has started and i can't find time to BREATHE

The school already consumes almost all my day and there is a lot of homeworks like the school isn't enough… So here you go here's some wips from previous pages! I'm actually surprised I've never shared these but hey now i have some stuff to fill the space!

Gonna save the others for later 🤭

[angstylittleguy]

The 53rd Day

Bennett is trapped in a time loop, one where Dalton experiences a growth spurt in public, leaving Bennett to scramble to try to prevent it. // Part 2

tw: blood and injury, anxiety, implied death

character context: Bennett frequently gets stuck in time loops and the only way to get the loop to end is for him to survive the day. Dalton is a size-shifter whose height is affected by his emotions.

word count: 2k

-> In Which Everything Goes Wonderfully Wrong masterpost link: Here

-> character introductions and moodboards: Here

Bennett jerked awake, gasping for air like he had been dragged underwater. His lungs burned in his chest and his head spun with vertigo. He was hot, his clothes sticking to his skin uncomfortably. He tore off his shirt as he tried to steady his breathing. 

The sun hadn’t even risen yet. Bennett didn’t have to check the time to know it was 4:28 am. It’s always 4:28 am. It’s been 4:28 am every time he woke up for the past 53 mornings. It will probably be 4:28 am tomorrow. And it will be 4:28 am the morning after tomorrow. Bennett thought he was going to be sick. 

He threw himself out of bed, slinging the bed sheet that still clung to his legs onto the floor. Bennett didn’t bother to shower, not yet at least. He was out of soap. He had been out of soap for 53 days. No matter how many times he went to the store, no matter how many bars of soap he bought, he would still be out of soap tomorrow. 

The bathroom light was blinding, a harsh yellow against the darkness of the early morning. Bennett stared numbly at himself in the mirror, the black tally marks littering his arms like ugly stains. He picked up the sharpie he left by the sink and removed the cap with his teeth. He added another tally on the bicep of his left arm. 

His stomach was twisted with knots. Anxiety gnawed at his flesh. Bennett didn’t know what to do. 

He wished Josiah was here. Of course, his cursed time loop started the day after Josiah left campus to visit home. The universe had its own unique way of making him miserable. 

The store didn’t open until 8:00 am and Bennett had four hours to come up with a plan. Nothing he’d tried thus far had worked, but he had to keep trying if he ever wanted to make it out of this alive. And he meant that quite literally. 

He got dressed, putting on the same yellow hoodie that he had worn since the loop started. It never got dirty, so why not? The mud stains, the sweat, the spilled drinks, and the blood had always disappeared when the day reset. No one remembered the failures, the embarrassment, and the near-death experiences (or were they simply death experiences?) but Bennett, and he had nothing to show for all the horrors he’d been through. 

Bennett just wished he could go back to sleep. The thought had occurred to him before, many, many times. But no, he couldn’t. He had something important to take care of. 

Bennett had been sitting outside of Dalton’s house for three and a half hours before Dalton finally opened the door. He jumped at the sight of the Bennett sitting on his front step, instantly growing a few inches. He put a hand to his chest, trying to calm himself down before he could grow anymore.

“Shit, Bennett,” Dalton said, voice weak like he was out of breath. “What the hell are you doing here? And how long have you been here?”

“Since 4:30.” Bennett stood now, craning his head back to look Dalton in the eye. 

“And you didn’t knock because?”

“I figured you needed your beauty rest.” Bennett patted Dalton on the chest. “And I needed time to think.”

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I really don’t have time for whatever it is. I’ve gotta…” Dalton’s voice trailed off and he ducked back into his house. 

Bennett followed him inside, closing the door behind him and lingering in the living room. Dalton’s voice called out from the bathroom: “Do I look too unnaturally tall to go out?”

“Yes,” Bennett responded, knowing that no matter what he said it wouldn’t change Dalton’s mind. “You’re like, six-ten right now, dude.”

Dalton groaned. “I don’t really have a choice; I need to go.”

He appeared from the bathroom, stalking down the hallway. “It’ll probably wear off after a while, I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Yeah, except it won’t,” Bennett muttered, watching as Dalton grabbed a faded backpack off the floor and slung it over one shoulder. “Where exactly are you going this early anyway?”

Bennett, obviously, knew the answer already. 

“It’s nothing, just something for class.”

“Why won’t you just tell me you’re going to your art showcase?”

Dalton’s height seemed to waver with the question, his head nearly brushing the low ceiling now.

Bennett pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dalton, this is exactly why I’m here. Something is wrong with you. Something is wrong with everything. And if we don’t figure it out, we’re just gonna keep doing this dance until one of us—” He stopped himself, his voice catching. “Until one of us can’t anymore.”

Dalton turned back, his face tight with irritation but softened by a flicker of concern. “What are you talking about?”

Bennett hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to do this now, not before he’d had time to think things through. But there was no other way. “We’re stuck, Dalton. Or, I’m stuck. In a loop. Every day, the same shit happens—me waking up at an ungodly hour of the morning, you freaking out and growing in public—and every day, I have to start over like none of it ever happened.”

Dalton stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

Dalton ran both hands through his hair, exhaling hard out of his nose. “I can’t just not go,” he finally said. “It’s worth half my grade.”

“Who shows up for school events on Saturdays anyway?” Bennett countered, trying to lighten the mood at least a little. “You should skip, I’m sure everyone will understand.”

“It’s not just about me. My group and I have been working on this project for months. They’re counting on me to be there. If I don’t show up, I screw over everyone else, too.”

“Look, I get it,” Bennett said after a pause. “You don’t want to let anyone down. But maybe—”

“No ‘maybe,’” Dalton interrupted, grabbing his keys from the counter. “I’m going. I have to. I can’t just stop living because of this… whatever this is.”

Bennett stared at him, torn between wanting to argue and knowing it wouldn’t do any good. “Fine. But I’m warning you. It’s not pretty.”

“Noted,” Dalton said dryly, already heading for the door.

The drive to campus was tense, Dalton practically vibrating with nervous energy. Bennett sat silently in the passenger seat of his car keeping an eye on him, half-expecting a sudden growth spurt at any moment.

By the time they parked outside the building, Dalton’s breathing was shallow, his grip tight on the steering wheel. Groups of students and professors were heading inside, some just milling around the entrance.

“Last chance to bail,” Bennett said quietly.

Dalton shot him a look. “Not happening.”

He climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut. Bennett sighed, leaning against the hood as Dalton disappeared into the crowd. He watched him go; shoulders stiff but head held high. Bennett gave him a moment—gave himself a moment—before he followed him inside, trying to prepare for what was going to happen.

...

Bennett stood at the back of the room, his gaze fixed on Dalton as he fidgeted nervously at the podium. Dalton’s eyes flickered toward the crowd, his face pale, a sheen of sweat already forming on his forehead. Bennett could tell he was barely holding it together. He’d seen Dalton like this before—flustered and anxious—but this time it seemed worse. The anxiety radiated off him in waves.

Dalton cleared his throat and adjusted the microphone, his hands shaking. “Uh, hi, I’m Dalton Richards. We… um.” His voice wavered.

Bennett’s heart clenched at the sight. He’d never seen Dalton this nervous, and they were all depending on him. But Dalton’s words were faltering. The audience watched, waiting, and Dalton seemed to shrink under the weight of their expectation.

The lights above glared down like a hot spotlight, making Dalton squint. He gestured toward the projected image of their mural, and Bennett could see his hands trembling. “Our work reflects transformation. And, uh, perseverance,” Dalton stammered.

Bennett’s stomach dropped. He wanted to do something, anything, to make Dalton feel better, but all he could do was watch.

Then, a faint cough echoed through the room, and it was like a switch flipped. Dalton’s eyes went wide, his breathing shallow. The sound of the cough ricocheted off the walls, and Bennett could see Dalton's face twist in discomfort. His chest heaved with each breath, and something in his posture changed.

Bennett swallowed, already knowing what was happening. His heart began to hammer in his chest. Dalton’s whole body was tense, his hands gripping the podium, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” Dalton’s words broke off as his chest tightened. The look on his face shifted, panic flashing in his eyes. Bennett’s pulse quickened as he watched his friend stumble, his knees buckling beneath him.

Dalton was growing. His limbs, his torso—everything about him was expanding, elongating in a way that defied reason.

“Are you alright?” one of Dalton’s groupmates whispered, their voice tinged with fear.

But Dalton wasn’t alright. His breaths were ragged, his body shifting uncontrollably as his height surged. The stage groaned under the strain, and the crowd murmured in alarm. Bennett could see the chaos spreading, whispers turning into shouts.

“Dalton!” Bennett called out, pushing through the crowd. His feet carried him toward the stage without thinking, his heart pounding in his ears. He had to get to him. He had to help.

But as he reached the front, Dalton's body surged again. He went down to his knees with a bone-shattering crash. The stage splintered beneath him, sending a jagged piece of wood flying toward Bennett.

Bennett didn’t have time to move. The wood struck him with brutal force, digging into his side. Pain exploded through him as he staggered back, clutching his ribs. Blood soaked his shirt almost immediately.

“Bennett!” Dalton's voice rang out, desperate and raw, but it was too late. Bennett felt his knees give way, the world spinning as he crumpled to the ground. The pain in his side was overwhelming, but worse was the look on Dalton’s face—horror, guilt, and fear all mixed together.

Bennett tried to focus, but his vision was blurry. The world around him seemed to fade as he felt himself slipping, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His hand pressed against the wound, but the blood kept flowing, too much too quickly.

The shrieks of the crowd were distant now, a faint blur of noise. All Bennett could focus on was Dalton, towering above him. His friend’s eyes were wide, panicked, but there was nothing he could do. Bennett couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move.

He just... couldn’t breathe.

Everything felt like it was happening underwater, the edges of his vision darkening. He couldn’t hold on anymore.

And then, everything stopped. The world went still. The pain, the panic, the crowd—it all slowed. Time seemed to stretch, and for a moment, Bennett felt weightless. It was like a second passed, or maybe an eternity. He couldn’t tell.

And then...

Bennett gasped, his chest jerking with a sharp intake of air. The sudden rush of oxygen burned in his lungs, but he was awake—alive. His hand still clutched his side, but when he pulled away there was no blood, no sign of injury. He was in his bed and the sun had yet to rise.  

Part 2

tag list: @sandwichtheuhh / @gt-daboss / @kazuyumi1412 / @ewmoodboardblorbo / @isumietokyo / @litenmyra / @smol-n-smol / @thesillygoofygoober / @lady-bee-fechin/ @werifesteria20/ @liconich / @wadling-of-wadlimar / @chuuyas-height / @r0bi-n / @abygails

[pocketsizejade]

Need help with the paw hand. Think this is okay? I am trying to get it right as I don’t tend to draw paws. Just want to get the toes beans right. Want to try drawing more anthros and just get them right.

[gtzel]

“This is might sting a bit, okay?” I looked up at the enormous figure looming above me wielding medical supplies. I was still in shock from the nights chaotic events. I sat atop a cotton ball the size of a large beanbag for me.

Okay, for those of you who may be confused let me explain. So basically, i woke up today in a strangers house with no memories. adding to that, this wasn’t just any house, it was a giants house. Obviously i was freaked out when i woke up underneath a ginormous couch with nothing but my clothing, which looked worse for wear.

I had foolishly assumed that I was alone in the house, and got reckless while trying to wrap my head around the situation. I ended up getting spotted by the giant that resided in the house and they caught me. Fast forward past a bunch of struggling and injuries on my part and here we are. A giant is warming me about the sting of antiseptic as I struggle to keep my breathing sound. His hand, which is about the size of a car, steadily approaching.

He doesn’t wait for me to give consent before dabbing an alcohol covered q-tip on my fresh wound. I let out a yelp and curl in no myself. My breath starts to grow ragged, as the stinging in my leg grows more and more noticeable.

“S-sorry little guy, but we have to make sure it won’t get infected” I feel a warm plush finger start to rub my back, in an attempt to calm my anxiety. Unfortunately for them, I haven’t had the best experience with giant hands since I woke up here this morning. I flinch away and try to curl into myself further.

My body starts to shake as I feel tears prick my eyes. The stinging has subsided minority, but now I’m more focused on the looming giant. I just need space. Why won’t they leave me alone. They keep making things worse. Just go away. Go away. Please please please just go away.

They touch my head again, ruffling my hair roughly. I yelp back and finally snap.

“PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” My voice sounds odd to my ears. Not how I had expected it to sound. It’s watery and cracks on certain vowels. I feel the hand flinch back at my comment. The giant hesitates before speaking.

“Y-you can actually…talk..?” He seems unsure of the proper response. I assume he didn’t think I was sentient, or at least that I didn’t speak his language.

I ignore his question, which seemed more like a shocked observation than anything else. I look up at him and for the first time today, I look him in the eyes. I’m shocked with how sorrowful they look, he seems so sad. Why does he look that way?

We hold each other’s gazes for several silent minutes. His eyes are a sparkling shade of silver, which is combined with the soft hue of teal. They’re comforting and calm, while still looking concerned.

“I-I need to clean up your wound, it might get infected if I don’t” he said carefully. He showed me the differing supplies and ointments he had layed out around the surface of tile that surrounded me. “I’ll try to be gentle with you, but I don’t want you getting even more hurt because of struggling”

Against my better judgement I nodded. He carefully lifted my leg up in between his two fingers. Gently he rubbed some healing oil onto the flesh surrounding the wound, along with ointment on the wound itself. O was pleasantly surprised to see how cautious he was while working.

When he had finished, he bandaged up my leg with gauze and set it down.

“Is that better?” He asked, putting a bit more space between us now that it wasn’t necessary.

“Y-yes, I think so…” I figured with my hands and the hem of my well worn shirt. He seemed to brighten when I spoke, smiling a bit in a friendly gesture.

“So, what’s your name?”

[pinkiedev]

WIP noodle-y Leef

me trynna finish this while also being in a moving car-

HA get dangled

Also, my streak of being wildly inconsistent in Leef’s size continues!

[somescrap-paper]

A human Oc yippee :D. He’s a biologist that lives with his roommate Albert (guy with the glasses) and a curious little fellow (Wally). I’m planning to do some actual writing/world building but we’ll see how long I procrastinate on that. 🥲

Some closeups :,3👇

[pain-is-too-tired]

Something about being at the hands of someone so much larger than you that can be oh so horrorfying.

This person can so easily hurt you, trap you, crush you without much thought. They hold your entire well being at the literal palm of their hand.

I think it's why for a tiny to let someone hold them willingly, it's such an important tell how much they trust the other. That they feel safe being held by them. They are comfortable in the fact that this person won't hurt them in any way.

So what happens when that trust is broken?

That person betrays the group, maybe joins the enemy side, is suddenly no longer seeming to be the person the tiny thought they were.

And the next time they're in the hands of that person, they're scared. Either frozen in fear or struggling to get away. They don't know what to expect.

Even more so if the person is so oblivious as to why the tiny is now uncomfortable in their hands.

"You use to never fight when I held you, what happened?"

And the tiny just can't get the words out. Not like the other would understand anyway. They never did, did they?

The person continuing to try to act like nothing's change. A kiss from them making the tiny well aware of the others canines. They way they hold them making them well aware how easily they can trap them. Maybe they get into an argument, and the giant's grip tightens around them without the other even thinking about it. And the tiny is again well aware how easily they can be crushed.

Hands that were once safe suddenly feel like they can be your tomb. How do you process that?

[sugarsweetvirgo]

ANGST!?

It's still in the oven but we're cooking over here 🍽️🍳

[pipinpali]

Wip for part two of my little comic thing

Should be out soon (maybe)