#borrowers are little people who live inside human houses | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

showrunnerihardlyknowher · 2 years ago

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Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers (But Also Please Stop Crying I'm New To This)

Working for a pest control company had its ups and downs, but for the most part the benefits were satisfactory. Good insurance, optional overtime, the chance to acquire a child who conveniently fit into a shirt pocket while you try to figure out what to do now.

Not quite sure there's a parenting handbook that covers the care and keeping of an abandoned borrower.

AO3 Link

My Christmas gift to @hiddendreamer67 (:

Word Count: 9K

Humans had many different reactions upon discovering the existence of miniature people living within the walls of their house. Sometimes they would shriek in terror, sometimes they would immediately try to capture them, and sometimes they simply killed them without a second thought like common pests. Sometimes they even liked killing them. Exterminators typically fell into the third category whether they realized it or not, unaware of what else they were poisoning with bait traps and fumes, sealing all the hidden exits to ensure they suffocated with the rats.

Milo didn’t know what sort of reaction an exterminator would have upon learning the true nature of the infestation, but it certainly wasn’t eyes widening followed by a soft, calm “oh.”

The borrower child trembled where he sat on the kitchen counter, desperately trying to push himself deeper into the corner of the wall in the hope that maybe he’d be able to phase through it. He wanted to yank against the twine tangled around his body again as if it would yield a different result than before, but if he pulled any harder the largest knot binding his wrists would turn his hands purple. All he could do was stare at the tan uniformed man looming over him with horrified eyes and hope his impending doom was swift. He was a professional, after all, so what would be the point of sparing another vermin?

The man moved the coffee machine the borrower had been hidden behind to get a better look at Milo’s bound and shaking form. The exterminator’s brows furrowed as he took in the mess of tangles the little one was caught in, but it was not an expression Milo wanted to see when a gloved hand began reaching for him. Attempts to back away were just as futile as they were thirty seconds ago; the most he was able to do was kick his pinched legs until his back slid up the backsplash and granted him a standing position.

Warm fingers covered in latex still managed to find a way to curl behind his back, pulling the borrower closer before lifting him up to the man’s chest. The fingers mercifully opened so Milo was splayed flat on the human’s palm. The child squeezed his eyes shut to avoid staring at the harsh blue eyes carefully inspecting him. Another gloved hand came up and experimented tugging a few loose threads wrapped around the trembling borrower only to achieve the same results Milo had, which were nothing.

“You’re really stuck in there, aren’t you…” the human murmured, receiving a strangled squeak of terror in response, one that had been pent inside Milo’s tight throat since he was first spotted by the exterminator.

Teary brown eyes struggled to find the courage to open. He could hear the former prodding hand disappear into the equipment bag set on the counter. Milo’s uneven breathing quickly turned to hyperventilation as the technician dug around for something specific, unable to imagine what kind of extermination device the human was surely looking for. The contemplative hum above him did little to settle his nerves. How many instruments of torture could he possibly have in one bag?! Just pick one and get it over wi-!

“Were you able to find anything, sir?” a woman asked from the kitchen door, the borrower instantly recognizing her as the homeowner. She was such a sweet, older woman, the kind that would make a pie for every new neighbor moving in no matter the street. Evidently, her kindness didn’t extend to rodents, or what she thought were rodents scurrying about her kitchen at night. Milo knew he should have been faster, should have waited until he was sure the coast was clear, but instead he had to be as bold and impatient as any other six year old. How was he supposed to know she’d turn around so quickly?!

Well, he probably could have expected it, since she always did have a habit of misplacing her glasses as soon as she needed them. He had thought he was lucky she couldn’t make out exactly what his silhouette was when he ducked under the fridge until she called for pest control the next morning. All the most important rules had been broken that night and now the golden rule of never being seen by a human was fractured twice .

He deserved to be left behind.

The only outward signs that the human had been equally startled by the owner’s unexpected presence was a silent hitch in his chest and fingers twitching to cage his little captive more securely. The overwhelming need to get away was coursing through Milo’s veins more than ever, barely able to process the mere idea of being in clear view of two humans at once. Luckily, or unluckily, the exterminator seemed to have no desire to show off his catch to his customer, instead quickly sliding the little bundle of borrower into his shirt pocket before turning to address the woman.

“There’s definitely a lot of gaps in your baseboards, especially in the kitchen and dining room,” he explained, subtly crossing his arms to still the squirming bulge with his hand. “They look like they’ve been there for a good while, so whatever made them could be gone by now.”

“Oh, dear,” the woman sighed. “Maybe it’s to be expected for an older house, but...well, I’m sure I saw something just the other day running across the floor!”

I have a pretty good idea of what it could be, the man thought. “It’s possible a new animal has taken up residence in the old nests,” he said instead. He grabbed his bag to pull out a notepad of order slips, hastily scribbling all the requirements per company policy. “We can either patch the openings and set a few traps, which you could do yourself if you don’t want to pay any labor fees, of course, or we can schedule an appointment to fumigate your house. You would need to stay somewhere else for at least three days, though.”

She waved her hand dismissively, “No, no, give me the earliest time you have to fumigate. I want to be absolutely certain there are no other little guests living with me.”

Milo was barely holding onto the conversation, every word the technician said reverberating in his bones while the silence was drowned out by a heart beating louder than his own. He caught a few scant words thrown around, something traps and...fu-mi-gate? He hadn’t the slightest idea what that was supposed to mean, but to be fair he was more preoccupied with the reality that he was stuck in a pocket! There was no way out but up, to which he’d never be able to climb with his arms tied with various knots and cradled in the natural curve of the fabric, especially not without the human noticing.

He felt himself being rocked when the man started moving, presumably exchanging pleasantries and leaving the home out into the cool autumn air. Not just the woman’s home, Milo’s home - the only home he had ever known, the only home he was just learning to navigate without holding his mother’s hand, the only home he had destroyed when his family discovered the grave mistake he’d made the night earlier. It was becoming harder to contain the whimpers that so desperately wanted to come out, but he swallowed down the lump in his throat as best he could lest he annoy the human with his cries.

It was as if the exterminator had completely forgotten about the unwilling passenger nestled against his chest, silent and relatively still the entire drive save for the couple of times he adjusted his seatbelt to keep the strap from smushing Milo against him. Occasionally, he would glance down at the borrower though Milo never once looked up as he chose to focus all his anxious attention on clenching his hands over and over until his nails threatened to draw blood from his now raw palms. He had no idea how long he had been confined, any time frame far too long for his liking, but he wasn’t snapped back into awful reality until the human was shifting around again. Milo hadn’t even noticed the humming vibration of the truck was missing until he was back to being rocked by the man’s gait, hearing the cacophonous slam of a gigantic door as the exterminator stepped inside.

Inside. Inside somewhere new and unfamiliar. Inside with some one new and unfamiliar, with no tools or family to rely on this time.

Light poured in from above when the pocket was pulled open, only to be blotted out seconds later by fingers fishing around for a solid grip on their prey. It wasn’t like he could do much to prevent the hand from wrapping around him given his limited space and bound limbs, but Milo still squirmed and cried out when he was lifted from his prison. He felt himself being lowered immediately afterwards, gently placed on his back against a cool, hard surface while lingering fingers were careful that he didn’t smack the back of his head when they let go.

Despite being freed from any physical contact with the human, Milo was paralyzed where he lay in primal fear, unable to command his body to shift in his current state. All he could do was shake uncontrollably and use the last of his willpower to pry his clenched eyes open until they adjusted to the light, shifting his gaze to the technician. The man had crossed his arms and was leaning on them against the counter Milo had been placed on, watching him with a very... unimpressed expression. His calculating gaze was darkened by the shadow cast by the bill of his cap, filled the borrower’s racing mind with images of agonizing, torturous ends, wondering over and over what was going to happen if the human didn’t even find him interesting enough to keep around.

“So,” a voice called to him, much clearer to understand now that he wasn’t directly against the source, “what’s your name?”

Milo was practically yanked out from his self deprecating bubble and met the human’s eyes with his own. It was a small mercy he had no tears left. He knew he had been asked a question and could see the man was clearly waiting for a reply, but the borrower couldn’t cough up any words past his quivering lips, only growing more anxious by the second. He needed to answer now before the human punished him for his insubordination, but he couldn’t talk, couldn’t focus, couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t!

He must have finally taken too long because the man sighed through his nose with a small eye roll, “Whatever, worth a shot, I guess.”

Oh no, no, no, he messed up. He made him angry. Why can’t he just learn to listen! The mess of apologies he wanted to ramble were stuck behind the bottled up sobs filling his chest, almost closing off his windpipe as the human’s attention returned to his work bag once again. This time, however, it didn’t take him very long to find what he was searching for. Milo stared apprehensively at the slim tool that fit completely within the man’s palm and when he pulled a piece from its side to brandish a blade that was conveniently the same size as his trembling body, his voice finally found the strength to push through.

“M-Milo! Milo!” he cried, twisting around in hopes that his renewed energy would be strong enough to break through the string binding him.

The man paused at his delayed answer, blinking at his struggling captive as he took a moment to understand what Milo was even referring to. “Oh. I’m Ben.” The hand armed with a swiss army knife started descending towards him rapidly, “hold still, please, Milo.”

Milo, decidedly, did not want to hold still in the face of a blade aiming to slice into him. He squealed, his body finally catching up with his mind’s screaming instincts to flee. Despite the twine continuing to pin his arms to his chest and rub sore patches behind his knees, the borrower felt a renewed vigor to fight against his bonds for the umpteenth time, as if it was in this convenient moment that he would be able to free himself and hide. Though even if that were the case, it would do him little good now. He was still in a different home with a stranger, nothing in sight that could be of any use. Slipping into the walls or being recaptured by the exterminator left him with similarly bleak results – Milo was as good as dead.

A sob finally managed to escape his heaving chest when gloved fingers reached to still him. This was it. This was the last consequence to his actions. It didn’t matter to him how the massive hand gave a twitch in hesitation at his downright pathetic display, nor was Milo able to make out the flash of emotion passing on the human’s face when his vision was blurred with newfound tears. He didn’t want to be killed like this; skinned and gutted like a rat, maybe even handed off to be dissected into a million pieces by big, scary humans in white coats and masks. There was no one else to blame but himself for the downfall of all borrower kind, centuries of well kept secrets undone in a single night by a careless child. His uncles were right to string him up with a broken climbing hook while everyone else was busy evacuating before the scheduled pest control visit. His cousins were right to taunt him with the knowledge he’d be snuffed out with the roaches in the wall.

But all he wanted was to hold his mother’s hand one last time. One last moment of comfort before the painful unknown. Had she realized he was left behind on purpose by now? Did she care? Was she about to risk being snared in a mousetrap in a futile attempt to rescue her sweet baby, or was she shaking her head in disappointment that her own child had caused such pandemonium? Milo didn’t know which mental scenario hurt more to imagine. Maybe he should have stayed tucked up behind the kitchen tiles rather than scooching himself until he could wriggle through an opening behind the counter outlet. At least then he could have gone to the grave with his mistake instead of having his corpse on display.

Milo was so deep in what he thought were his last, morbid musings to notice the tip of the knife slid under the many layers of string as opposed to his flesh. The cool metal pulled upwards instead of plunging down, easily snapping through the bindings with hardly a flick of the wrist. Of course it was nothing to a human, but to the borrower they might have well been iron chains. Pressure was instantly released from around his arms and chest, letting the tingling limbs relax and regain proper blood flow. For a moment, Milo mistook the feeling of freedom as his soul ascending before he realized he was still trapped in an unmarred body.

Wide eyes blinked their sight clear just in time to see the blade saw against the largest knot that clamped the boy’s wrists together, snapping the last thread and giving him full mobility of his upper half again. He was still processing the fact he wasn’t being flayed for fun while the exterminator worked on cutting Milo’s legs free as well, effectively breaking him out of his half hearted cocoon.

“How the hel-... heck did you manage to do this, anyways?” The man asked, using his fingers to pull away the remaining bits of twine off of Milo. At this point, it really wouldn’t make much difference for the borrower to speak with a human considering he had already offered up his name. There were no more secrets left to hold, yet the poor thing felt himself clamming up again. Perhaps it had less to do with preserving what little he could of borrowerkind and more along the lines of not wanting to air his wrongdoings and the ensuing punishment. How embarrassing to tell his captor, possibly his killer, that he had been left to gag on fumes by the family he had endangered.

The lack of response made Ben give a small frown and the borrower felt his heart drop. Obviously, he knew Milo could talk, hence how he knew the child’s name was Milo in the first place. There was no sense in pretending there was any type of language barrier between them that would prevent the little one from spilling all the lore he knew. All it would do is worsen the treatment he received when the human pried the information out of him, both metaphorically and literally. Still, the best he could offer up was a strained whimper, immediately throwing his arms up in front of his tear stricken face to hide when the human leaned closer on the counter. The hand that had moved to curl behind him gingerly touched his back, creating an aftershock of trembling down Milo’s spine.

“How old are you?” The exterminator tried instead. When that gave him the same non-answer, he huffed. As much as Milo wished he could make this easier on himself, six years of well ingrained instincts kept overriding the desire to comply. If only that could have been the case forty-eight hours ago.

“C’mon, bud, make this a little easy for me,” Ben said softly. “I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to be doing here…”

He wasn’t supposed to be doing anything because he wasn’t supposed to ever know borrowers were a race of people that existed. He wasn’t meant to find out his profession made him one of the top killers of Milo’s species, what with his poisons and traps and heavy boots. Who was to say how many lives had been lost in his line of duty, not to mention the child was intended to be added to the death toll. The human could have gone on with his life blissfully unaware the little one he was cradling in his hand should have been suffocating in the walls to die in agony alone. Ben never would have cared about him then, not that he truly cared about him now. He was curious, yes, but eventually the novelty would wear off and be replaced with boredom. Tiny bodies like Milo’s were not made to withstand the types of entertainment humans often put them through.

The tip of a gloved finger stroked the top of Milo’s head, flattening the black waves down and accidentally plucking a few strands out when they would catch on the latex material. Surely the gesture was intended to be comforting rather than mildly unpleasant, but the borrower couldn’t help but wince at the too rough touches. He ducked his head further into his arms to avoid any more petting, though Ben hardly seemed to take the hint he didn’t want to be fiddled with in any capacity.

“Are you…hurt? Bleeding? Tired?” If he wasn’t going to get a direct answer, the technician was just going to have to resort to guessing games. Unfortunately, his limited experience with children and non existent knowhow of borrowers quickly left him floundering. “Look, just…tell me what you want. Please? You’re making me feel bad about this.”

If Milo knew what audacity was, he would feel quite a bit of it for Ben trying to make it out like he was the unreasonable one. It was hard to say how much longer his patience would last for the borrower’s antics before he grew tired of talking to himself. After all, if he was destined to be experimented on and responsible for a mass extinction, it probably wouldn’t make much difference if he spoke now or not ever, if only to stay a few more minutes out of a vacuum sealed baggie.

Milo sniffled, curling in on himself tighter and muffling his words “...h-home…”

Having not been expecting another verbal response, Ben blinked in mild surprise. “Hm?”

“ H-home ,” Milo repeated, the word choking him. “I wanna go home…w-with Momma…”

“Oh, bud, I, uh…I don’t know if that’s really…”

Whatever awkward excuse the human was trying to come up with as a means to soften the blow that Milo won’t be returning to his family any time soon was cut off by the sharp ring of his work phone. He cursed under his breath, cringing as soon as the dirty word left his mouth with a glance at the child huddled against his palm. The borrower had heard plenty of swears before, especially when the news had broken about the homeowner spotting him. Still, Milo jolted at the foreign sound of a cell phone, a grating noise different to the landline he was more accustomed to hearing from time to time. He had never known those little talking things could be cordless and boxy until Ben fished the device from his back pocket to answer.

“Hey, yeah, what’s up?” He asked into it, his focus shifting to the faint voice on the other end that the child couldn’t pick up. “No, no, I’m fine, yeah, just a bit… busy , I guess.”

‘Busy�� meant that he was anticipating being preoccupied with Milo for an extended period of time. Long enough that the human would need to devote a considerable amount of attention to him and not be bothered by anyone else. The color drained from his flushed cheeks, the awful reality sinking in further for the borrower. Ben could go ahead and blab about his discovery to whoever he was talking to right now, offer to bring him over for proof, laugh as they schemed together the best way to make a profit from this discovery. One mention would be all it took before the rumor spread like wildfire with living evidence to back up the claim.

But the exterminator didn’t say a word, instead letting the conversation be directed about another job he was being requested to pick up this afternoon. No details about what happened at the old woman’s house, no unwarranted gossip about a fun little secret. A half breath of relief escaped Milo without him fully understanding why.

With one hand holding the cellphone, the other no longer prodding him, and Ben’s gaze elsewhere while he was focused on the call, Milo saw no better opportunity to make his great escape than this very second. Humans could be so distracted with their distant talks that they never noticed a tiny person scuttling right under their feet with an armful of safety pins. Granted, the borrower hasn’t the faintest idea what the best path would be for the most secure holding spot, but most kitchens should be the same, right? Any outlet in the kitchen would be prime real estate for a getaway tunnel, assuming borrowers had already settled down in the house previously and loosened the panel.

Well, even if that weren’t the case, there were plenty of tight spaces and hidden gaps that Milo could stuff himself into where giant fingers wouldn’t be able to pass. So long as Ben didn’t see where Milo had scampered off to, he was in the clear of never being found and thus giving up the search fairly quickly. Then again, this was a human with a deadly profession. The house could be booby trapped in a matter of minutes after he disappeared under the floorboards, sealing him in his hidey hole forever. Or worse, the exterminator had already secured his home with poison and sticky paper as a precaution to other pests that may dare enter his domain.

It was a risk he was going to have to take. Yes, Ben might have seen him and spoken to him, but so long as Milo never interacted with him again, it would be his word against no one. That was one of the few redeeming qualities about humans: if there was no proof, no other person would believe their ‘outlandish’ claims. Little people living in the walls? Really? How asinine! Were they also supposed to believe fairies and goblins existed within the mushroom rings found deep in overgrown forests?

Milo scrubbed his face dry to the best of his abilities with the back of his hands, gulping down a few shuddering breaths to hopefully steel his nerves. Now was not the time to be a baby anymore. He needed to be brave and strong like a real borrower. Inch by slow inch, he scooted himself away from the idle hand still cupped behind him, fully intending to stand up and bolt as soon as he was far enough away that fingers couldn’t hook around him. Unfortunately, things never worked out the way Milo planned if past instances were anything to go by. No sooner had his plan begun it was brought to a screeching halt the second Ben caught his movements out of the corner of his eye. The poor boy hadn’t even been able to push himself off his knees before he was cut off by a hand in front of him.

The gloved barrier startled Milo enough to yelp, replacing his somewhat thought out course of action with the haphazard need to get away get away get away! Little legs scrambled to find purchase on the counter to send him off into a sprint, but it was of no use at this point when his failed escape had been spotted this close to a handsy human. He’d manage to run one, two, three full steps when Ben’s thumb and forefinger pinched the back of his tiny green tunic and lifted him into the air. Being so high up made the boy’s stomach turn unpleasantly, imaging what it would be like if he was dropped from this height onto the linoleum floor and splattering next to the technician’s boots. Either way, the thought didn’t dissuade Milo from struggling in this new hold, clawing at the fingers behind him and kicking his legs fierce enough that he swung back and forth.

“No, no, no! Let go! Lemme go! ” The tears were back and freely cascading down the borrower’s cheeks, but sorrow no longer tugged at his heart. It was replaced with something more primal, more raw, that made Milo feel like he was seeing stars with every labored cry that left him winded. Panic, pure and unfiltered. “ Momma! ”

As if the exterminator was only plucking a piece of lint and not a tiny child in the midst of an anxiety attack, Ben hardly acknowledged the little one’s tantrum so as to not lose his place in the phone conversation. He maneuvered his cellphone to be balanced between his cheek and raised shoulder to free up his second hand, turning to lean back against the counter’s edge. The squirming borrower was then deposited into his awaiting palm, squishing Milo against his chest before any flailing limbs could climb over his fingers and send him tumbling below. Though it would be more ideal to shush and coo at the sobbing child being forced to cuddle into the tan fabric of his uniform, he couldn’t let his supervisor in on the fact he was comforting a person one twelfth the size of a typical first grader. Which would somehow be just as difficult to explain how he had come into care for a random kid to begin with.

Tiny fists punched and pushed on his sternum, unable to put a fraction of distance between their two bodies. And here Ben thought he was on to something by making the borrower subconsciously follow the rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat in an attempt to coddle him. Perhaps that was just a trick that worked on newborn puppies; that was what his sister told him was a bonafide trick to settle motherless litters at her vet clinic. Then again, this wasn’t an orphaned kitten mewling for a mama cat. This was an actual child, missing its mother all the same, but presumably with the cognitive function of a human to mourn the loss of their parent and fear the monster who separated them all the same.

He really, really wasn’t trying to be the bad guy here, though it was hard to dispute that narrative while he was silencing Milo with a hug and pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary for his call.

“Mm, sure, I can be out in Bilmore before five, as long as it’s just for an ant spray. Kyle owes me,” Ben agreed. Picking up a coworker’s shift was the exact opposite of what he had in mind, but he was too deep in the farce that everything was totally normal on his end to refute. The exterminator most definitely did not have an absurdly small person trying to bite through the latex of his gloves in hopes of returning from whence it came from some old lady’s house, no sir.

Thankfully, Milo was so caught up in his hysterics that most of his heart wrenching cries were concealed behind gently rubbing fingers, preventing any noises from being picked up on the receiver. Would it have been any more of a disservice to him if another human became aware of his pathetic situation? Probably not. There was little more harm that could be done for the reputation of borrowers at this point. Therefore, the child allowed himself to slip into the throes of his breakdown, the full weight of everything finally crushing his tiny self. He was abandoned by the only family he had. He had lost his mother. He had doomed his species. He was trapped by a man who was so much bigger and older and stronger and scarier . He was going to die.

Milo didn’t want to die, he had barely gotten the chance to live! He hadn’t even learned how to scale the rafters yet, or to know which order of symbols spelt out words to avoid and words to stuff his face with. Hell, Ben could set out a pile of rat poison and a pile of stale cereal bits and the borrower wouldn’t know the difference. Perhaps Ben would be merciful enough to grant him a quick and painless death, just popping his head under the heel of his boot or something. Please, please, just let it be something that doesn't hurt. His heart already hurt so much and now Milo’s head was beginning to pound from the excessive sobbing. All he wanted was for everything to stop and to go back to normal.

His mother would have known how to fix this. She knew how to fix anything he broke.

At some point, Milo stopped fruitlessly slapping at the fingers that caged him close and instead gripped onto the uniform of his captor. It was nowhere near the same level of comfort he was seeking out, but it would have to make do in his final hours. It was warm, there was a loudness in the chest he was nestled against, and a repeated touch stroking from his head to his lower back could almost be mistaken as familiar. For that reason alone, the borrower cried harder. Not loud, panicked wails like before, but soft whimpers heavy with tears that soaked into the human’s shirt with barely any notice. His headache was getting worse now, dehydration making him more miserable than ever.

“Alright, I’ll head out in a bit, thanks,” With that, the technician shifted Milo to be cradled in one hand so that he could hang up the call. “...that was a stupid idea. Why did I do that?” He mumbled.

Immediately, the borrower started fretting again from the movement. The dread that was building in the pit of his stomach wasn’t helped when Ben sighed and rubbed the side of his temple, briefly nudging his hat up to free a few blonde strands.

Blue eyes glanced down at watery brown ones. “What am I going to do with you now?”

His throat was still raw from the hoarse sobs he had worked himself up over, but words still found a way to push out of his mouth between shuddering pants. “L-lemme go…”

Ben pursed his lips, appearing to actually consider Milo’s request. A spark of hope dared to make his itty bitty heart beat out of his chest, but the fleeting feeling was snuffed out when the human shook his head in disagreement.

“No, you’re just going to get hurt. I mean, I guess I could take you with me but…” He looked at his tool bag, noting how very not safe or comfortable it would be to tote around a child in. There was the option of putting him in his pocket again, but the borrower didn’t seem like he knew how to stay still. “It would be easier if you just stayed put until I got back.”

The problem was Milo did not want to ‘stay put’, of which they were both aware of. As soon as Ben would release him on solid ground, the borrower would make a run for it. Whether or not his latest escape attempt would be successful was to be determined, but Ben was more worried about the poor kid getting injured in an unfamiliar house than actually managing to find a way home. There were simply too many dangers the exterminator already foresaw given his experience with unlucky critters. Exposed wires delivering a deadly shock, a hot pipe scalding flesh, openings too narrow to back out of, hidden scavengers pouncing on an easy meal. The list went on and on. Pint sized or not, these weren’t things any child would be able to fend off without help, and if Ben didn’t know where he was…

A kick that felt more like a tap against his rib shook him from his worries, reminding the technician the problem was still, quite literally, at hand. Milo was trying to push himself up and out of Ben’s grip, uncaring that freeing himself would just mean careening several stories below. Further evidence that the child didn’t have the rational survival skills necessary to be on his own.

“No! Put me down!” Milo yelled with a couple more kicks. The tears were drying into itchy tracks on his cheeks, though no more clouded his vision like before. It was more of a temper tantrum from not getting his way than the primal panic that had been easily ignored during the human’s phone call.

“Milo, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself flailing like that.”

“No, I’m not!” Spoken like a true kid. “I don’t wanna be held!”

The exterminator huffed. “If I put you down, are you going to run away?”

The struggling stopped at this, having not expected any sort of compromise from his captor. Milo needed to tread very carefully. Tempting as it was to blindly agree and turn tail as soon as he could, it felt wrong to break his promise to an adult. Even if that adult was twelve times his size and had an arsenal of deadly traps that could be used as punishment. It didn’t feel good to lie, whereas if he listened to whatever rules were laid out to him, the borrower might be rewarded. Returning to his home and into the warm embrace of his mother was probably too steep of a prize to be earned for staying on the kitchen counter, but maybe it was a goal that could be worked towards.

So, Milo shook his head in silent agreement that he wouldn’t try to flee. True to his word, Ben turned around and lowered the child back to the granite countertop. His legs felt like jelly, causing Milo to sit on his knees when the hand behind him uncurled to leave him be. It would be so, so easy to get up and make a mad dash for an outlet or the crevice where the fridge and backsplash met. Anywhere that human fingers would take too long to pry open, the borrower being long gone in the inner workings of the house by the time they found a big enough opening to prod. But he didn’t move a muscle. A part of him wasn’t sure he even could. Everything felt numb and tingly, like when he’d sleep on his arm weird and be unable to move it until after breakfast.

Still, the exterminator was content with his obedience. He folded his hands together and rested his chin on top, looking down at Milo who was struggling to maintain any type of eye contact. “I think we both have a couple questions.”

“I want to go home.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that really clear.”

“ Please take me home?”

“Look, kid, I,” The human struggled to find the appropriate words. “...well, really, I don’t know what you are. Or where you came from. Or what home is. So, you gotta help me out here, because I’m sure as sh-, sure as heck not leaving you all by yourself.”

If Milo was a foolish borrower, which some may argue he was in the same vein that most six year olds were naive to a fault, he would have happily blabbed away answers to all of Ben’s questions. They were simple enough and it dangled the promise of being carried home then and there as soon as he spilled the beans. However, Milo knew the rules, even if he broke the most important ones. An exterminator knowing the full ins and outs of borrower colonies would only be looking to line his pockets rather than keeping the vague promise of a safe return. For the good of the rest of us , his teenage cousin had sneered.

The child looked away from Ben’s unintentionally cold gaze. He wished the human had soft, warm eyes like his mother and himself did. Hazel tones felt much friendlier than the frozen blue boring down from above. “I can’t tell you,” Milo mumbled.

The man tilted his head. “Why?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Great,” he groaned, and Milo couldn’t help but flinch for the wrong answer he gave. Would he be punished now or later, he wondered. “So, how exactly am I meant to take you home if you don’t tell me where it is?”

That…was a good question. A loophole that Milo’s child brain was not expecting to have to factor in. Well, if they were speaking only in technical truths, it wasn’t that all of Milo’s home was hidden, just the parts that were within the home of another human. Similar to a concept of saying what state or city a person lived in without giving the exact address of their dwelling. That said, he wouldn’t really be revealing anything Ben hadn’t already figured out. Milo was found at the old woman’s house, so he lived somewhere in the old woman’s house. As long as he was dropped off somewhere inside and the exterminator took his leave, the borrower could scamper to one of the many concealed openings back into the tunnels without exposing further secrets.

“It’s, um…w-we were already there,” The borrower said softly. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, like it was the most vile confession of his lifetime.

“The place in Anville? Where you were all tangled up?” Milo nodded in confirmation. “I…don’t think it would be possible to take you back there right now.” Or ever, was the unspoken truth Ben didn’t have the heart to admit. The house was due to be smoked by the end of the week, effectively killing any and all living creatures that had taken up residence without the woman’s permission. Taking the child back would only ensure his demise not long after, and taking him after the fumigation was done was only inviting insurmountable trauma for what he might find inside where his family once was…

Assuming they were still there at all. It was a little odd to Ben that the borrower had been so perfectly wound up in double and triple knots with no signs of a guardian near him. Of course, said guardian could have taken cover before they, too, were scooped up by the technician. But shouldn’t their first instinct be to protect their child, to fend off any threats, make some kind of distraction so they could get Milo to safety? Ben didn’t want to judge the parenting styles of someone he never met, yet he couldn’t shake the idea that the set up for their first encounter didn’t completely sit right with him.

Milo shrank in on himself at Ben’s dismissal. “Wh…why not?”

“Well, no one is scheduled to go back there for a couple days. And when they do it’ll be…y’know, fumigated. That’s not good,” Ben tried to explain.

“Oh,” The borrower said, as if he knew most of those big words. “When will that be done?”

Ben shrugged. “Everything will be all cleared in two weeks, I’m sure.”

“And then I can go home?”

What was the most child friendly way to tell a six year old if they returned and also didn’t fall victim to one of the many, many preventative traps left behind, they would more than likely come across the poisoned bodies of their loved ones? Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit guilty for that fact there was no conceivable way for him to go back and warn ‘Momma’ of her impending doom, at least for the hope of a happy family reunion afterwards. The reality was that if she was still there, looking for her troublesome baby, she would suffocate alone and unknowing if her child had suffered the same tragic fate. It was miserable to imagine, much less explain to a kid who barely trusted him to begin with.

Rather than opening up this new can of worms that would no doubt reignite the wails and thrashing from ten minutes ago, Ben chose to glance at his watch. If he wanted to make it to Bilmore in time, he needed to get going, which brought him all the way back to square one of what the fuck is he supposed to do with a three inch tall kiddo?

“How about we talk about this when I get back, okay?” He pushed himself up from the counter, only to drop to a crouch so he could root around the cabinet under his sink. “I gotta head out for a bit.”

“To my house?” Milo asked, tepidly crawling near the edge of the counter to get a peek of what the human was doing.

“No. Different house. We can talk more about your house later,” A rattling of metal and a few squeaky hinges were exactly what Ben was looking for, returning to his full height with a small cage in his hands.

Milo knew what a cage was. Milo did not like cages. Cages were what birds and things were kept in, like the old woman’s pretty canary. It seemed too cramped for an animal meant to soar through the sky and the borrower felt terribly sorry for it to be cooped up for so many hours of the day. His aunt, the silly one with three missing teeth, had warned him of humans locking borrowers up in similar prisons. Tiny, cold little cells so the human could be entertained at their leisure by the borrower’s misery. No privacy, no comfort, no being able to run around the rafters and steal the crumbs of chocolate chip cookies. An awful existence, one of the worst fates for a borrower should they ever be caught alive.

The terror that drained all color from the child’s face for a second time made Ben feel even more horrible about this, but he had no choice! This was the only safe place he could think of for Milo to stay alone without running the risk of him getting into trouble. Besides, it’s not like he would force the borrower to stay in there forever, just…an hour or two, until he finished that stupid job he never should have agreed to cover. If nothing else, this gave him the opportunity to get a few supplies while he was already driving around to make his impromptu guest a tad more comfortable. Some bedding, maybe a couple dollhouse toys, books for guys who didn’t know the first thing about caring for kids, books for small rodent care for new owners.

There was no sense in acting like this was going to be a short term fostering. As of now, Benjamin Riley, age twenty-eight, was the self appointed guardian of a mysterious child who was in serious need of a growth spurt.

“Hey, it’s okay, look,” Ben tried to soothe, setting the cage on the counter near Milo. “It’s a humane trap, it’s not going to hurt you. I promise.”

His promises clearly meant nothing to Milo, who still had little to no reason to assume any of his words were truthful. As far as the little one was concerned, the exterminator had shown up, kidnapped him, and had signed for an appointment date that would slaughter his family should any of them still remain after being displaced. Ben had done absolutely nothing for him to earn enough trust to be willingly imprisoned.

Milo squeaked and clambered onto his feet, taking several steps away from the horrible contraption. “N-no, I don’t w-wanna!”

An understandable reaction, but not the one the human wanted to deal with right now. He didn’t have thirty to forty minutes to waste in settling Milo down enough to be put in the trap. “I know, bud, but it’s not that bad. It’s just for a little bit.”

“No!”

“I’ll let you out as soon as I get back, okay? This is only temporary.”

“No, I don’t want to go in!”

“Milo, c’mon, you’re killing me here. This is just to keep you safe while I’m gone. I’ll come back with things to make it cozier for next time.”

“ No! ”

Breaking his promise be damned, Milo was sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him to avoid being stuffed in a cage. The metal was dark, likely cold to the touch, and had weird upper mechanisms that scared the borrower to touch. The only way it could be more horrendous would be if the exterminator returned it to its original storage space under the sink, where it was pitch black and damp, ready to be forgotten after a long day of errands.

It was foolish to think he’d ever be able to outrun a human who could close the distance between them without fully extending his arm. No matter how hard his legs pushed and how deep his chest sucked in stinging breaths to propel him forward, Milo couldn’t shake the hand that swooped in from above. Two fingers curled in front of him, knocking the wind from his lungs when he collided full speed with the solid digits. A gloved thumb closed behind to secure his back, preventing him from being able to slip out of the hold. Before he had even gotten a steady inhale, the borrower was airborne, carried back to his original spot with barely any effort on the human’s part.

Except he wasn’t dropped back onto the counter. Instead, he could only watch with wide eyes as Ben used his other hand to undo the latch on the front of the cage, revealing an opening large enough for Milo to pass through. Though his legs kicked and his arms pushed and a strangled cry squeaked out, the technician could not be swayed to release him until after he had been deposited on the cold, metal floor. He should try to take solace in the fact that he wasn’t dropped from a bruising height into his new prison, but it was hard to find any bright side to his horrid situation.

“It’s not forever, I promise,” Ben repeated, removing his hand and pressing the trigger plate to seal the borrower in with a reverberating click.

Immediately, Milo ran to the bars of the cage, hoping to find a miraculous weak spot that would break free if he shook it hard enough. “No, no! Please! L-let me out!”

“When I come home.” And that was that. Sitting here trying to reason with a child as to why he deemed it necessary to lock him up like a feral rat would only lead to them talking in circles. And because Ben felt increasingly awful by the second seeing the poor, frightened boy trapped in the same manner as a rodent. The comparison seemed gross. Milo was not a rat or a stray or any other animal; he was a… something . Not a human, but more than close enough. A child, for God’s sake. Yet what other option did Ben have on such unexpected notice? He’ll make it up to him later. They were going to be in each other’s company for quite a while.

More pleas and whimpers spilled from Milo in a jumble of stutters, trying to find the right words to appease his captor to rethink the situation. “Please, p-please! I’ll be good! I-I promise! Please let me out, please, please , don’t go!”

If Ben hung around any longer to watch the tragic display, he just might very well lose his resolve and opt to stay home and care for Milo without the burden of the cage. However, that would mean having to call his supervisor and explain why he was backing out of the shift he agreed to, and not being able to pick up any essentials for the kid, and basically being stuck on house arrest because he would be too guilt ridden to leave Milo alone if it meant having him in the humane trap for any period of time. Kids sure knew how to pull on the heartstrings.

With that, the exterminator did what he would do for cases of pest relocation involving active and/or anxious critters. He took the hand towel that hung over the handle of his oven and unfolded it, draping the yellow and blue fabric over the cage to conceal most of the outside view from all sides. It was meant to help whatever critter was inside not feel overstimulated by the unfamiliar sights and people so that they would hopefully self soothe into a calmer state before being moved. Ben wasn’t sure how well it worked on Milo since he only continued to beg and feebly tug at the cloth like he might be able to dislodge it from his view.

Well, at least the human didn’t have to look him in his teary eyes as he left. That was not a face he wanted to regret while he was on a job, lest his emotions get the better of him. This was only temporary. This was for Milo’s own good. If that was what he wanted the borrower to believe, then that’s what he needed to believe, too. Sometimes, it’s necessary to be the bad guy when it comes to the world of parenting. Is that what he was now – a parent? Pretty lousy one, if you asked him. Those types of bonds would form more naturally as time went on and Milo wasn’t left for an hour or so in a rodent cage. Maybe.

Ben gave the top of the cage an awkward pat, the muffled sound of the metal making Milo yelp as the vibrations tingled his hands. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Be good.” He said softly, like it would make any difference.

Boots faded into the distance before cutting off when the front door closed behind the exterminator. It was at this point that Milo was now well and truly alone. There was no reason to keep spouting off pleads when no one was around to hear them. The only thing to keep him occupied was himself and the two tone splashes of color blinding him from the outside world. No way to be able to spot any potential hiding spots once he was out (if Ben was really going to do such a thing), no way to judge the passing of time, no way to look at anything that might be remotely more engaging than a dish towel. He wished he could bring some of the fabric through the criss cross bars of the cage so that he would have something warm to sit on.

Alas, he had nothing. No home, no family. Just a cold, empty cage and the berating voice of his thoughts that listed off all his faults which led him to this moment, oftentimes echoed in the same manner as the relatives who had tied him up. This felt like the perfect time to air his grievances, but there were no more tears to cry and no ache to be screamed. His chest felt empty and numb, as if his heart had been ripped out and discarded. Perhaps that would be a literal possibility in the future should Ben grow tired of his whining. It would do him well to remember who’s mercy he was at now, the one who decided if he would live or die and exactly how painful his demise could be.

Milo dropped to his knees and waited in silence, just like he was told to do. Just like he should have done in the first place when he was warned to never be spotted by a human. If he closed his eyes and thought real hard about it, he could picture his mother running over to lift the fabric away and reveal that she had tracked him down all this way and was here to take him home. Where no one was mad at him and no one was going to die at the hands of the uniformed human and his bag of poisons.

Yes, Momma would be here soon. He just had to be patient a little longer.

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ana-lmao · 10 months ago

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The Borrower In My Walls (Chapter I)

Hehehe, Sneeg fic!

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Sneeg was a borrower that lived in many peoples walls, He was caught often or left himself because of the lack of food. However, this house was almost perfect! True there was a big family living there with a lot of guests but they left often and left out a lot of food!

There was a blonde haired tall man with 3 kids, Oh god they were chaotic, really loud as well... there was one with matching blonde hair that was the loudest and probably the youngest, there was a pink-haired one which was calmer and liked to read books and then there was a brown-haired kid who was in the middle. The blonde haired kid always had a mess in his room so it was the easiest to "Borrow" from, anything missing would be blamed on the messes he made. Sneeg does not know much about the guests that visit, he often hears the name ran-ranbo, ranboo or something and tub-o, He can't memorize them.

Phil once came home from the park and it was really late, Sneeg did not expect him to be outside, he thought he was sleeping! Faster then light Sneeg bolted into his tunnels, leaving a mess of things he was getting for the night. Phil noticed this and thought that one of the kids made a mess...again. He cleaned up and went to sleep.

Sneeg was having a mini panic attack realizing he had almost been caught, that could have been really REALLY bad, when he was sure the human went to bed he continued his heist, he saw random bags on the table and peeked inside, there was A LOT of food, Sneeg thought the bags meant it was going to be thrown out so he took out as much food as he could and went back inside his tunnels, getting ready to sleep on his hand-made bed made from wool and matches.

Next morning:

-ALRIGHT! WHO THE FUCK TOOK ALMOST ALL OF THE GROCERIES I LEFT!- Sneeg heard the adult human yell, he realized what he had done and his antennas flew upwards and his eyes widened in fear.

-Not me! -The blonde one said

-Me neither -That was the brown haired one

-I didn't-The pink-haired said in confusion

-Well somebody took the food in here and if nobody confesses I will check the camera footage!-The adult human states.

Sneeg felt his heart stop. They had cameras. They were going to see him. They were going to KILL HIM, torture him! Maybe even put him in a jar and keep him as a pet! They were going to do experiments on him! Sell him! something awful was going to happen...But...If he left...He would not have to deal with this...He packed everything he could and when the adult went up into the attic to check the cameras he started to get out, it was going to be hard considering all 3 kids were in front of the door.

Meanwhile Phil:

-Okay now to check which one of these little shits stole all the food.-Phil pulls up the camera footage and watched closely, nobody was coming down, except for a small blur on the screen that went on the table and grabbed stuff, he thought it was a mouse but after zooming in he saw a small...Creature? it was wearing blue clothing, which looked like he just stitched random blue pieces of fabric and had antennas. He also reverted the camera footage to see the same thing peeking out of a mouse hole and getting ready to escape.

Phil bolts out of the room goes downstairs to see his sons in confusion on why he was so quickly running down the stairs, were they in that much trouble? Phil quickly notices the blue Creature near a window and grabs it on instinct.

Sneeg's heart was racing and he was squirming in the adults hand, trying to bite him but failing, he was screaming- or to say screeching and could barely see through his tears but all of them were staring at him.

-LET ME GO! LET ME GO! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I WILL LEAVE! LET ME GO! DON'T HURT ME! -Sneeg was blurting out each word.

-D-dad what the fuck is that?!-The brown haired person shouts in confusion

-I-I don't know!-The adult says while tightening his grip, which makes the creature screech more.

Phil notices an empty jar on the table and puts the thing in there, which calms him down enough to stop screaming but still makes him even more panicked.

-L-LET ME OUT! I DON'T WANT TO BE A PET! I DON'T WANT TO BE ENSLAVED! I WANNA LEAVE! PLEASE!-Sneeg kept crying out.

-Uhm...What do we do with it?-The blonde kid tunes in.

-Well, we are not keeping him, he is clearly terrified but he has certain injuries that caught my attention...Also yes he was the one stealing the food.

-Eh whatever, I'm going back to my room to read-The pink haired one spoke up and went to his room.

Sneeg rolled up in a ball and was crying, for a long time until the lid of the jar opened up and the adult dropped some food in it, he was right, he was going to be a pet.

After eating the blonde kid picks up the jar and heads to his room, Sneeg is panicking being picked up but gets used to it quickly.

-Soo, how long have you been here?-He asks, Sneeg does not answer, still scared.

The kid taps the glass on the jar to have him speak up.

-A-A few months! d-don't do that again please...-Sneeg speaks up.

-Well, I'm Tommy! What's your name little one?-Tommy introduces himself, but Sneeg stays quiet for a few minutes before quietly saying:

-Sneeg.

-Nice to meet you.

-P-Please let me out, I don't want to be a pet...Please...

-Pet? You are not a pet?- Phil said you had some injuries he wants to help out with.

-O-oh...Can you still let me out?..

-Nuh uh, you will run away!

-I won't! please! I don't wanna be in here anymore!

-Ugh fine! but if you run away You and I are going to be in so much trouble.- Tommy opens the lid and pulls Sneeg out with his hand.

-No. Running. Away-He says while placing Sneeg on his bed, he does not run, even if he really wants to, Tommy will outrun him.

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tinylittlepolly · 8 months ago

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The Giant, The Borrower, and The Wall (g/t story)

In a small apartment room with little complexity to it, lives a human named Manny, alone. He spends most of his time at his job trying to make ends meet, only being home for hours at a time, most of which are spent asleep. He never brought anyone home like friend or family. He always had difficulties speaking to other people. No matter what he tried, any time he had to start a conversation he just… froze up. Scared that what he might say might offend or annoy anyone he was speaking to, Manny chose a life of loneliness.

Little did Manny know, this life of loneliness he’s lead for many years was always spent with another close by. Behind the wall, opposite to his bed, was a hidden compartment that the landlord of the apartment had never told Manny about. It was a small gap that couldn’t be used for much, and as such it was swiftly forgotten about, with only one person knowing of its existence.

This person was a little borrower, no taller than a teacup, who had made the space his living quarters. Much like the giant, he spent most of his time sleeping in his room, though the borrower had no ends to make meet, only needing food and water to keep living. The borrower was not a social one. They had always had difficulties speaking to other people. Even when meeting other borrowers before moving into this small room, no matter what they tried, they just… froze up. Scared that what they might say could very well mean the end of their cozy little life, the borrower chose a life of loneliness, living in the walls of this small apartment.

The borrower got by quite well, only leaving their room when certain that the giant had left. This was always very clearly announced by the loud *THUD* made by the giant’s big steps through the house, sending vibrations through their whole body, followed by the loud *CHUNK * the walls made, followed by silence. They knew this was the time to get some food, with the giant often being away for hours at a time.

They’d only take small things, piece by piece only when needed. One of those big, orange, curly, and salty things from the crinkly blue bag with the shiny grey inside, one of those big, brown, chunk-filled discs that were both crunchy and chewy… The borrower never got to choose what he ate, but he didn’t dislike any of the foods the giant brought with him. It seemed the two had very similar tastes, much to the delight of the small borrower, having a full meal from what the giant would consider not much more than a small snack.

The borrower made great efforts to avoid the giant, always making sure their presence went unnoticed. Any bag they’d taken food from, they’d close back up, including any drawers or pouches. If some crumbles from the brown disks got on the floor, they’d climb down to clean them up. Manny didn’t realize it, but he had a very tiny, yet very efficient cleaner living in his house cleaning up after themselves. The borrower knew not to interact with or get noticed by the giant. Even though as far as giants go the giant was quite short, he was still so much bigger than the borrower… Compared to someone that big they’re nothing more than an ant, the borrower thought to themselves. A being that big means nothing but danger.

Anytime the giant came back from the outside, he'd always be grumpy and sleepy. Bags under his eyes bigger than the borrower themselves, wearing some grey outfit with a red line hanging from his neck, which he always wore when going outside. The giant would always go into the room with the white walls and weird chair, spit into a bowl and go to bed. Sometimes the giant came home holding their head, which seemed to be solved after they took some pills, also from the white room. In any case, after he left the white room and headed to bed, the borrower knew they were free to leave the room again, although the giant never seemed to stay asleep for long.

This life was simple, but the borrower was happy. They didn’t know if they could say the same for the grumpy giant, but it didn’t seem like he minded the little guy taking some food every now and then. Or at least, the giant never seemed to talk much while he was at home, aside from the occasional annoyed grumble when getting home or while sleeping, although the borrower did sometimes hear the giant talking to someone in the white room, despite only them and the giant being home.

The borrower started out only leaving the room during the day, while the giant was away, though they did eventually build up the courage to leave the room at night, while the giant was asleep. One night in particular was one that would forever change both their lives. The borrower had woken up in the middle of the night, holding their head and wincing in pain as their head felt like it was splitting apart. They were barely awake, it hurt to even keep their eyes open, not that it mattered considering their vision wasn’t much more than a blur at this point. Their whole body was heating up, they started to have difficulty breathing and knew their situation was dire.

Despite the pain coursing through their head, the borrower remembered the giant often came home holding his head in pain, taking pills in the white room to solve it before going to sleep. The borrower didn’t know what was happening to them, but they knew to move fast.

The borrower made their way to the white room, pitter pattering across the floor, tiny step by tiny step making progress towards what felt so far away, yet so close. The moment they reached the white room, they started using whatever strength they had left to climb up towards the cupboard that held the pill bottle, struggling with every grab on the wall’s tiling to make progress but knowing that stopping now would have fatal consequences. The borrower prayed with all they had they would make it back safely, and the pill bottle was finally in sight…

The little explorer tumbled about, with little to no strength left, desperately trying to reach the bottle of pills before it was too late… only to feel a cold shiver running down their spine, followed by a small *thud*.

They passed out right before reaching their goal, leaving their life up to fate.

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It was the start of the next day. Manny woke up as the sun rose with a splitting headache, as per usual. He got up to get dressed and headed to the bathroom to take some medicine for his headache to get ready for another day of work. “Alright, 6 hours at the grocery store, 3 hours at the customer service, 1 hour power nap, and then- “

As he was quietly talking to himself and entered the bathroom, one thing particularly stuck out to him. On the sink laid what seemed to be a small figurine, curled up in a fetal position. He didn’t remember leaving anything of the sort there, nor was he the type to collect figurines in the first place. He approached the sink to pick up the small figurine only to realize... The “figurine” was breathing. Its small body, even smaller than Manny’s hand, was breathing. Its face was red. It looked like it was in pain.

Manny realized… this was not a figurine. Far from it.

This was a living being.

Manny gently and carefully touched the tiny person laying on his sink, recognizing their pain from the headaches he always had. He felt a subtle warmth, though he could feel it was slowly fading. The borrower was dying. Manny quickly grabbed the medicine he’d always use for his headaches and ran to the kitchen. He grabbed a fork and quickly broke the small pill into tiny pieces that could fit in the borrower’s mouth, hastily pushing some into it, hoping he still had a chance at saving them.

Every second felt like a minute, time dragging on as the giant stared down at the scared tiny fighting for their life. The tiny borrower winced in pain, holding their head and curling up into a ball. After a few moments, it seemed the fear and pain had subsided somewhat. The borrower’s body wasn’t as tensed up anymore, and their hands slowly lowered from their head to the ground.

With the tiny person seemingly feeling better and falling asleep, Manny remembered his job starting soon. He’d forgotten all about it with the chaotic beginning to his day, but he couldn’t just leave this tiny creature laying on the kitchen sink… Manny hastily yet carefully moved the borrower to his bed, put a potato chip and a bottle cap full of water next to the now asleep borrower, and made sure to lock the door before taking his medicine and leaving for work. He’d have a lot to think about during this shift.

#g/t story #sfw g/t #borrower #giant tiny #g/t #size difference #story #first story so be nice (but also give feedback) please!!#i'll probably continue this if people like it idk

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angled-blade · 2 years ago

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Within Reach.

Pairing(s): {OG} Michael Myers/Reader Warning(s): Deliberate mention of violence and murder. Type: Ambiguous | Ficlet

At first, it was a voice that no longer blurred with the rest. A voice that could reach without it becoming one that he found easy to ignore. Your voice wasn’t one that typically called for everyone’s attention, but it was commanding in which your voice was memorable to those who stopped to recognise and remember it. It appeared incongruent amongst the sea of people that he had encountered thus far.

Perhaps that was why he found it easier to enter your home lacking the intent the kill, and even lacking a sense of direction the moment he stepped inside your home. Perhaps that was why he felt as though he could follow your voice, assuming that it did the impossible that the doctors at Smith’s Grove deemed it as—in which it had reached Michael.

Your voice had reached him, and that interested him.

Without you knowing, your life was on borrowed time by the time he felt the roots of his interest wrap themselves around the image of you—one he had seared into his memory. There wasn’t any word in the world that he knew of that described this infantile infatuation. He was neither a human nor was he truly the devil, leaving him with little words to attach to this interest he was now silently harbouring.

Michael kept an eye on you. In an almost aberrant fashion, one that Michael realises was an unexpected development the second time that he did so, was that he returns to you. And there he was, standing inside your home as if it were his. The only thing he hears now was your faint breathing as you slept, unaware of him and his staring.

By the time he stood at the foot of the bed, the roots of interest began to steadily grow, no longer thin as they curled themselves around your image—the very same image that he held onto the first time he heard you.

What was it that had him harbouring an ever so flourishing interest in you? The thought rings in his mind, incongruent to the others that simply gave way to his desires of harming you. This new restraint that he found unexpected himself, Michael only grew restless. In response, he began to target Haddonfield once more—catching the town’s breath as those he encountered slaughtered ruthlessly.

They assumed the rise in killings as unexpected of the killer, which was what Michael expected of them. He found it foolish of the townspeople to expect him to remain stagnant in craft, to remain silent during the months of February. To him, they seem to forget that he killed with little rhyme or reason time, and time again.

Though, he supposed he was a hypocrite, as one might say, seeing how he remained stagnant in his process of killing you. Perhaps he was one, but there was no one else to see it except for him.

Similar to his sealed lips from those years ago, you were an unmentioned secret—one that you were unaware yourself, your decisions dictating how long you were to live another day. Michael found himself impatiently waiting—though he was sure that you were to be dead by the end by his hands—in some way or another.

Much to his confusion, you remained something of interest to him. That, itself, intrigued him to watch a little longer. The roots of his own interest beginning to sprout even more from its base, its grip slowly distorting your image. The longer he watched, the longer his mind began to alter the image of you, something that Michael now believed belonged to him.

It didn’t take long for the roots to destroy your image, in response to you encountering him in your house.

Now knowing of Michael’s existence as he stood before you, you were frozen in place and prepared for his blade to strike you. The killer held onto the handle of his kitchen knife tightly, feeding further into your fear.

To your surprise, Michael stood still. Despite his eyes being obscured by the mask, you could feel him staring into your very being. His gaze was uncomfortable as it had your skin crawl the longer he remained stationary. To you, this was a fate far worse than the death that you knew the killer promised with every one he encountered—even more when you cannot see his face.

He could see all of you—whilst you on the other hand could only see his hands that held the knife handle ever so tightly. The thought you concocted now left you vulnerable and uneasy for what’s to come, shutting your eyes tightly.

To your surprise, the expected outcome did not arrive. Silence greeted you when you opened your eyes, the killer no longer in sight. You looked around in confusion yourself, your body still unnerved as night bled into the evening.

Michael found that the image of you that he had before was replaced with one that was your encounter of him.

It seemed to him that you will remain in his memory, in which he takes with an essence of possession. His roots no longer curled around you as suffocating as they were before, this development keeping his interest in you alive.

Curiously enough, your encounter with Michael seared itself into your mind. No matter how hard you try to do so, he remained in your memory as well.

I hope you have enjoyed this piece of OG, I apologise for my absence! Time has simply caught onto me. Your requests have been received, and I am currently working on a few of them. Billy and Stu are quite a favourite from what I see.

Again, please reblog this post! I really appreciate them. (: Thank you once more for reading, have a wonderful day/night!!

#michael myers x reader #og michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #og michael myers x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you

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alice-angel12x · 2 years ago

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The secret world of Tevayt (Ch.2)

Part 1 (here)

As Lumine and Aether enter the renovated Inn, Xiangling happily greeted her long-time friends. She ran and happily pulled the twins in a tight bear hug.

“I’m so Happy You guys are here! How are you doing Aether?” Xiangling asked him as she let go of the twins.

“I could be doing better,” He said with a weak smile.

“Oh Is your heart not getting better?” Xiangling asked with a sad expression.

“There's going to be an operation to help his heart in a couple of days,” Lumine said.

“Well, I can’t wait to make an epic banquet when the operation is successful,” Xiangling smiled softly.

“Thank you, Xiangling,” Aether smiled weakly.

“Oh let me show you to your rooms,” Xiangling said as she helped with the luggage.

As the twins and Xiangling made their way down the halls, two little girls laughing and screaming came running down the hall.

“Hurry Nahida, the tiny people are moving,” A girl dressed in red said excitedly.

“We have to get the food ready for them,” The girl in green added as she chased the red girl.

“Who were those two?” Lumine asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, those are Alice’s kids. The girl in red is Klee and The green one is Nahida. They kind of live here, when their mom is away,” Xiangling explained. “But at least their aunty Gold is always around.”

“Gold?” Aether asked.

“Yeah, she lives in the attic turned laboratory,” Xiangling smiled. “She says she’s an alchemist of sorts. Oh, there she is over there.”

Xiangling pointed to the stairs, and there was a smart-looking woman heading up to the attic. She had a strange beaker in hand.

As The three continued on, a room to the left was fulling of singing and music. Xiangling explained that the room belong to three girls who wanted to start a group. Barbara, xinyan, yunjin. They met many new people in the Inn. Like Ms.Jean the manager, college students Layla and Faurzan, the housekeepers Noelle and Thoma, and the regular visitors of Ningguang and Beidou.

Eventually, Lumine, Aether, and Xiangling made it to Ather’s room for the week. It was a simple room when Aether noticed a beautiful doll house in the corner of the room. Looking inside the furniture and decor were immaculate, this house must have been very expensive.

Unbeknownst to the humans in the room, through a tiny crack in the wall, a pair of tiny eyes were surveying them.

_______________________

“Two new humans,” a red-haired borrower said.

“How many?” a blond borrower asked.

“Two new humans, Mika,” the red-haired borrower said

“Right I will write this down Diluc,” Mika nodded.

“We should head back to come back with a plan. One of them looks sickly, so he probably won't be much trouble,” Diluc said as he made his descent down the nail stairway in the inner sides of the wall. Mika quickly follows since Diluc is the one with the lamp.

Back in the Colony, Everyone was gathering in the living area. Sitting, resting, talking, eating, and all sorts of things.

“I can’t believe Zhongli just agreed to just let you tag along with the Borrower team,” Kaveh sighed as he placed the silk flower down in the living room. “ It’s incredibly dangerous, and you still haven’t officially chosen your role yet.”

“And you chose a role you hate,” Y/n pointed out.

“Yes, but that’s because the Ei didn’t see interior design as a useful role in the colony, so I chose Post guard,” Kaveh sighed as he sat down at a nearby counter. “Just be careful okay? Humans are dangerous for a reason.”

Y/n nodded when Keqing came to the living area.

“Hey, this is the last call to write down what you need to be borrowed. If you don’t fill this out soon you’ll have to wait 2 weeks for the time,” Keqing said sternly, holding up a paper.

“Wait I need tissue paper!” Kaveh said as he quickly rushed over to Keqing.

Soon more people started to gather around Keqing and began to write on the list. Soon Diluc and Mika returned and Zhongli greeted them as they began to discuss.

“We found 2 new humans in the house. However one of them looks a bit sickly,” Mika explained.

“He most likely won't be much trouble, and go to bed early,” Diluc added.

“Great job you two, oh, and Y/n will be joining your crew tonight,” Zhonghli said to them.

“Y/n? Have they finally chosen their role?” Diluc asked.

“No, but they would like to try this out before finally settling on one,” Zhongli explained.

“We’ll keep a close eye on them,” Diluc promised with a nod.

Zhongli calls Y/n over and introduces her to the caption Diluc.

“Hello, Diluc. I’m very excited to see what your work is like. I will do my best to stay out of your way,” Y/n promised.

“Just keep on your toes and stay out of sight,” Diluc said simply. “Get ready, we’ll be leaving in 20 minutes.”

“Right!” Mika and Y/n said.

—--------------------------------------

Y/n stood before Zhongli’s borrower team. It consisted of Caption Diluc, scout Mika, Scharamouche, Gorou, Kuki, Heizou, and Hu toa. As The group made their way to the main exit, the colony saw them off and wished them the best of luck and a safe return.

“Y/n! Be safe!” Childe called out from a window.

Y/n waved back as a gross creature started to sneak up behind them. Childe gasped and quickly drew his bow and shot at the cockroach. Y/n quickly turned to see the large creature, they quickly drew their bat and started to slug the roach. With a screech, it quickly scurried away into the dark.

“Nice work Newbie,” Heizou said as he clapped his hands in congrats.

“It’s just a roach Heizou, nothing to get excited about,” Scaramouche scoffed.

“No need to be such a downer, it’s nice to know we have a capable potential member joining us,’’ Heizou arguedwith a smile as he rests his arm on Y/n’s shoulder.

Scaramouche just rolls his eyes and walks off to catch up with the group. Heizou sighs and gives Y/n a friendly pat on the back as they caught up with the rest of the group. As Diluc stayed back to make sure everyone crossed the nail bridge safely, he turns to Y/n with a nod. Y/n looked down at the edge, it was a far drop. The nails were wedged into a wood beam, each nail spaced out just far enough for a large step between each nail. With calm strides, they made their way across the nail bridge as Diluc followed behind to keep an eye out for them.

At the end of the bridge, Kuki held out her hand to help Y/n off.

“How much farther to the first stop?” Y/n asked.

#genshin impact #Genshin x reader #Genshin impact x reader #Tiny people #the secret world of arrietty #arrietty #Genshin impact x the secret world of Arrietty #childe x reader #venti x reader #aether x reader #Lumine

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tinycoded360 · 6 months ago

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As per a post you reblogged a bit ago, I would love to learn more about the “lore” of your borrowers story, if you feel like sharing. Can we learn more about Sterling, or how there came to be multiple settlements in the house? Thanks!

Perfect! I got really excited when I saw this! 😍

I'd be more than happy to share! Now, I do kind of add to this as I write, lol.

But funny enough, I almost made it, so there were more borrower families in his house, like the upstairs and the borrowers in the attic. Buuut, I felt like that was too many characters to keep track of to start. It might still happen in the future, but not right now.

So, moving on.....

For our main big guy:

Sterling Silversmith is a 35-year-old. He is six feet tall. He is a kind and gentle man who enjoys reading and spending time at home. He’s a bit of a homebody and a nerd. He identifies as bi and currently single, he just hasn’t met the “one” yet. But he also doesn’t feel a huge urge to date around; he’d rather do other stuff. He works at a publishing company.

I imagine he Looks like Michael Garrett Shanks. Actor who played Daniel Jackson in Stargate.

Emma lived in the house before Sterling. She had moved out of her borrower colony in her twenties. Her colony was in an abandoned military base turned into a field, so the likelihood of humans building there again was slim. She wanted to live alone and didn’t want to settle down with anyone and have kids. (I do plan to mention the colony at one point, lol.)

Originally, the house Sterling owned belonged to an elderly couple. Emma did that on purpose because the elderly are the best humans to borrow from. They are slow and slowly losing their senses. They often horde things and don’t notice when things go missing. And nobody believes them if they start talking about little people.

The Elder couple passed. For a time, Emma was the only being living in the house. She got used to making things for herself. She prefers the basement because of the easy access to the outdoors.

One day a borrower messenger from the field colony shows up and asks if the house is safe and if she would be willing to accept a new couple, who are looking to start a life in a Bean’s dwelling, and it would be good for them to have an older or at least experienced mentor to help them with the transition. Emma says yes. She likes the idea of helping her fellow kind and the future generation.

So, Milton and Cassia move in with Emma. They take the walls on the first floor. And they start a family.

Then, Sterling enters the picture and buys the house. This happens when Cassia is pregnant with her third child Lila. So, now they must be extra careful, and their kids must stay inside the walls more, until their parents are confident, they won’t get caught. Sterling doesn’t get his cat until much later. Now, Sterling is oblivious, but because of this, Milton lets his guard down over the years, leading to the moment Sterling does catch sight of him.

Emma prefers the basement, where she gathers and makes what she needs from the outside. She rarely borrows from the main floor. It’s kind of a pride thing for her. She is very independent.

#giant/tiny #g/t writing #sterling Household #g/t writers #g/t community #anon ask #the-borrowers-au #g/t #giant tiny #g/t writing community #my writing and characters #my writing lore #the lore evolves as I write hehe

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carnivorousyandeere · 1 year ago

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Elena, Wisteria, Thorn, and their darling all being roomates, with darling either being oblivious or knowing that all of them are yanderes and just wants the chaos

I hope you’re ready to be at the center of a tug-of-war, here, Darling. Thorn will cling to you near-constantly, Wisteria will pout and try to coax you into spending time with faer and faer alone, and Elena will try to drag you out of the house to go on adventures with her. However, none of them are really liable to get violent with each other unless you’re hurt under their watch— they’ll all begin to blame each other and things could get ugly then. But as long as they all do their part to keep you safe and happy and separated from anyone besides them things will be somewhat peaceful. However, you should probably not be surprised to know that sometimes Elena watches you sleep, Wisteria’s got your room and bathroom bugged, Thorn likes to use your toothbrush, and that they all steal/borrow your clothes, albeit for varied purposes.

A clueless darling has them conflicted— it’s equally frustrating and endearing when you misread their approaches as platonic and selfless in nature. They worry even more about your safety out and about in the world, even with one or multiple of them there with you. They’ll probably keep you inside with them as much as possible. You’re just too gullible and sweet 🥺

A willing, even enthusiastic, darling is, of course, in for a good time~! They adore you, adore the fact that you accept them for who and what they are. The way you indulge them, the way you tease them and rile them up just to watch the chaos— it’s exhilarating, in the best way. You’re a drug they cannot get enough of. Unlike the clueless darling, they’re more comfortable taking you places with them. They don’t have to worry about hiding their true selves, or you leaving them for anyone else. In fact, you seem to enjoy watching them deal with anyone who gets a little too close to you— something that is comforting to them, in their own sick way.

Kirby loves Elena the most even though she calls him “Juice Box,” and pretends she’s gonna eat him. Maybe because she’s the most playful out of the three, and he can play fight as roughly as he wants with her because she doesn’t really feel pain from his bites the way that the humans of the house do. Thorn, of course, is a little bummed that her baby boy loves somebody more than her, but she’s a liiittle lower energy than Elena anyway so sometimes she just sits back and watches them play

Kirby fucking HATES Wisteria (because she tried to put him in an itchy lavender sweater one (1) time), hisses at her, and loves to scare fae by running out from under the couch to bite her before running away 😭

Elena dislikes how messy Thorn and Wisteria leave their shared living space and the fact that she can’t really throw parties with those dweebs around— Wisteria is antisocial and would throw a hissy fit, and Thorn has a special talent for getting shitfaced and embarrassing Elena. It also feels a liiiitle hypocritical to her (“You can play video games as loud as you want and yell at screens all night long, but if I have a few friends over for drinks it’s a problem?” 😒)

Thorn, as always, has no concept of personal boundaries and WILL eat other people’s food, use their shampoo, etc (especially Darling’s things~ 😏). It’s not uncommon to find her snoring away facedown in somebody else’s room either, usually without permission 😬

Wisteria is the only one who can cook even a little bit, so unless Darling wants to cook too there’s mostly gonna be takeout and energy drinks in the fridge 😭 (Elena doesn’t usually bother, can’t eat human food anyway. Thorn could probably burn cereal)

#mail 📬#oc Elena #oc thorn #oc wisteria #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw

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kayla-crazy-stuffs · 2 years ago

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'Living' the life they didn't have 1

Finally I decided to write the first part of the Tiny Ghost au :D

It's a lil' bit short though

Tw: Already dead character (aka ghost), death mention, accidental fearplay (I think that's all)

The night was quite cold, the ground of the streets were completely covered with snow and the flakes were falling incessantly. The streets were completely empty, there was not a single person walking through them.

Well, that's only if we only consider people of average height. A slight glow floated forward and approached the windows looking inside the houses.

The ghost of a borrower sighed in disappointment. He had been looking for his old home for 15 years, in which he lost his life because of the human resident, who decided to kill him for no reason.

That is why, in those 15 years, he had been looking for him to be able to take revenge on him and thus be able to rest in peace... Apparently that had become impossible, having not been able to find him in so many years, so he decided to give up.

He advanced for a while longer until he stopped when a human came out of his house to throw out the garbage, so he took the opportunity to sneak inside when the human left the door open so he could go back inside.

Once he was inside, he decided to hide behind the television, peeking around the corner a bit, wanting to see what the human looked like.

He didn't have to wait long as he was soon back inside the house complaining about how cold it was outside. He was finally able to take a good look at what this human looked like.

He had short cream-yellow hair and very light blue eyes. He also seemed young to him, perhaps his own age, or at least physically speaking. After a few more minutes watching him, he decided to go looking for a place in the house to rest.

Once he had fully explored the house, he decided to stay in the attic of the house, since for all the dust that was there, it was very likely that the human would not go up often, so it was perfect for him to stay there.

He went through several boxes that were there, looking for one that had clothes. When he finally found one, he lay down between two sweaters, using the one on top as a blanket.

Even though he was dead and immune to cold, he could still feel the warmth of being covered in 'blankets'. Finally he closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh when he was finally able to feel again what it was like to sleep in a 'bed'.

Several weeks passed since Dream settled in the human's house, in those weeks when he was bored, he used to move the windows and doors or make noises around the house.

The human just looked around confused but he didn't seem to care or at least until one day, when Dream accidentally broke a window, something he didn't want to do.

For that same reason, the human stopped ignoring him and began to investigate with those devices with which they supposedly tracked ghosts.

And for some strange reason, the human had discovered that he couldn't pierce living things and in a moment when Dream was distracted, he managed to catch him in a loose fist but not enough for Dream to escape from him.

"What the hell...?" The human said looking confused at the small person in his hand. Meanwhile, Dream began to shake and his appearance changed completely, he turned gray tones, his mouth and eyebrows disappeared and his eyes were two rectangles that were 'crying'.

The human's eyes widened in surprise and concern. “H-Hey, you're alright.. Uhh.. I-I'm not going to hurt you…..” Dream couldn't hear him at all, the terror he had while remembering the way he died, made him shake even more.

“Oh…shit…how do people deal with scared ghosts?” The human really had no idea what to do, but he knew that he was the reason the little ghost he had encountered was so scared.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #tiny!dream #ghost!dream #tiny ghost!dream #giant!punz #human!punz #tw death mention #tw already dead character #accidental fearplay #tiny!ghost au

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earthbovndmisfit · 2 years ago

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Merman Jonathan trying on human clothes for the first time.

This just gave me some ideas that will yes/yes deviate a little at points (literal ramblings of mine as usual, lol), which means this is gonna be a bit long, but I hope that's okay!

I think Jonathan learns how to do housework and, as a way to repay Speedwagon and help him at home, Jona does most of the chores while Robert is at work. Spw doesn't want Jonathan to feel like he has to do anything to live with him but, seeing Jonathan's stubbornness about "doing his part" along with the fact that its kind of a necessity at this point now that the two are living together and, as a result, the housework has doubled up, he just simply lets Jona work around the house as much as he wants to. It also helps Jonathan keep himself busy when Robert is not home, so that's another good thing.

As such, Jonathan helps Speedwagon with the laundry most of the time, either by washing the clothes himself or taking them off the clothesline when they are dry, folding them and etc. This is how, one day, while he's folding all those clothes and putting them in the clean laundry basket so he can take them inside (basket with wheels and all so Jona can move around with it easily), that Robert's fave shirt catches Jonathan's attention and the idea of trying it on pops in his head. He has noticed how much Robert loves that shirt, so that only makes him want to try it on even more the more he thinks about it. He has never worn any human clothes, so his curiosity is huge. He also knows Speedwagon, and he knows he won't get mad at him for trying it on if he decides to. Again, Jona is curious and just wants to see how the shirt would look on him and he also wants to see how human clothes might feel while wearing them, maybe see why Robert loves that shirt so much? In Jonathan's opinion, it is a pretty shirt after all! Also, human clothes always feel so soft to the touch.

And Jonathan is actually right about Speedwagon being cool with Jona borrowing things from him. What Jona failed to consider beforehand though… is that he is too big for the poor shirt, and this is something he learns only until after he's put the shirt on, accidentally ripping it in various parts and tearing at least two of the seams.

Jona is in absolute dismay, appalled and also anxious as soon as he realizes what has just happened, what he just did to Robert's fave shirt.

With a background deeply marred by all the abuse he got from Dio, Jonathan begins to think about the worse that could happen when Spw finds out what happened. All the worst scenarios start flooding Jojo's mind to the point where he's sure Speedwagon is going to kick him out of the house as soon as he finds out what Jonathan did.

He doesn't want to lie to Robert and play fool and pretend he doesn't know anything when the moment he asks about his shirt comes, but he also doesn't want him to get mad or upset, he doesn't want to be kicked out of the house either. He loves living there and, especially, he loves Robert. And so he comes up with a plan!

He starts finding ways to make money, like selling recyclable stuff he finds around the house (plus stuff of that kind that his sea friends bring him for that purpose whenever they visit). I'm not sure if this is a thing around the world?? but where i live there's people who basically buy from you stuff like empty soda cans/bottles, old newspapers, cardboard boxes and etc and take it to recycle centers where they get paid for it, however, recycle centers don't pay a lot (they pay very little per kg.) and, thus, these buy all this stuff from you for even less than that so they can earn some profit, sooooooo, the money Jona makes from this is usually not a lot, but he does this as often as he can and, sooner than later, he makes enough money to buy Robert a new shirt to make up for the old one.

Coincidentally, shortly after Jonathan gets him the shirt and is ready to come clean about it, Robert finally asks about his shirt, having not seen it in a while. Maybe Jonathan has seen it and knows where it may be? Jonathan suddenly gets all nervous and anxious once more, not just because of what he did and kept a secret from Speedwagon all this time (it's been weeks, maybe a month or a little more?), but also because, as much as he tried, Jonathan was unable to get him the exact same model of shirt that he had and loved, something that he finally reveals to him as he tells him the whole truth of what happened to his shirt (which Jona still keeps, hidden inside a box as, at one point, he even tried to sew and stitch it with poor results). Jonathan apologizes profusely, and he's on the verge of tears because, in his mind, he's convinced that he's about to get kicked out while also getting berated. Again, all this as a result of the years of abuse he's endured, even though he knows Speedwagon is not the kind of guy who would do that to him.

Robert just looks at him in silence as Jonathan goes through the full explanation and hands him the new shirt, the one Jona bought for him. Jonathan hasn't even finished talking when Speedwagon is already pulling him in for a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, reassuring him and telling him how there's nothing for him to worry about (a statement that Robert fully means) and how thankful he is not only for Jojo being so thoughtful to this extent, but also for all the effort he put into mending this little accident, fully aware of all the difficulties he must have gone through to earn the money to buy a replacement for his shirt.

Needless to say: Robert now has a new favorite shirt.

#me??? shamelessly turning anything i get my grubby hands on into jonawagon stuff?? more likely than you think #hope this is alright anon #i just.... simply couldn't help myself as usual when i got hit with the idea 🥲#jjba #jonawagon #jonaspeed #speedjona #speedstar #jonathan joestar #speedwagon #speedguapo #merman jonathan #robert e.o. speedwagon #long post

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revlyncox · 6 months ago

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Beyond Welcome: Hospitality, Inclusion, and Inherent Worth

This sermon contains a little bit of "insider baseball," discussing some insights and some work specific to The Unitarian Society in East Brunswick. They are a great congregation! And every group of human beings needs a gentle nudge sometimes. This sermon builds on the anthology of essays Beyond Welcome: Building Communities of Love, edited by Linnea Nelson. In particular, the sermon draws from the essay “Built Through Trust,” by Rev. Manish Mishra-Marzetti. In our communities, we work toward an ethic of hospitality and inclusion that truly reflects a deep commitment to the inherent worth and dignity of every person. This sermon was presented on May 19, 2024, by Rev. Lyn Cox.

The first time I attempted to attend a Unitarian Universalist congregation on Sunday morning, I picked the one that was closest to where I was living at the time. This was early in my young adult life, when one partner and I were barely getting by in a two-room apartment while doing odd jobs and office temping. We had a car borrowed from my partner’s parents that often worked, though not for much longer.

I knew about the Unitarian Universalist congregation because some older friends had gotten married there, and I was so impressed with the way the minister had woven earth-honoring traditions into the ceremony, and the way the brochures in the lobby referred to ancient history as “Before the Common Era” rather than “Before Christ.” Little things that members had probably forgotten about made an impression on me as I was hanging around before the service at my friends’ wedding. There were inclusive banners, windows that looked out on beautiful trees, and comfortable chairs instead of pews. I had another friend who had grown up UU. She had told me all about incorporating the Interdependent Web into the faith. But my friend was at school in another city, so I tried to make the Sunday morning visit on my own.

For context, I should say that this was around 1996. The internet existed, sort of. I had used web browsers, and had worked during college at an Internet startup where we helped people get connected to dial-up and sign up for their first email address ever. There were no smartphones. But this was just on the cusp of the era before congregations started building websites, and we certainly didn’t have internet access at home or in our odd jobs. So there was not an easy way to check the details about the congregation. They had their service time listed on a wooden sign in front of the building, but too small to read while driving past and keeping up with traffic. I supposed that 10:00am was a logical time for a Sunday morning service, so that’s what I aimed for.

I pulled into the parking lot, and was finally able to get a good look at the sign. It said there were services at 9:30 and 11:00. So I could come in conspicuously late, or hang around awkwardly in the parking lot, or come back later. My anxiety got the better of me, and I turned the car around and left. Then we were busy with figuring out our lives and getting ready to move, and I didn’t visit that congregation again until years later as a guest preacher.

My second attempt at visiting a UU congregation on a Sunday morning came the following year on an opposite coast. The partner I lived with had started graduate school, and we were staying in grad housing. I had another temp job, but this one was a steady, long term temp with internet access and a computer at my desk. And we were in Silicon Valley, where congregations were seizing the moment with building web pages. By the end of November, we had scraped enough money together to buy a car. So, with more reliable information, more reliable transportation, and a little bit more stability in my life, this time I successfully entered the doors of the building in time for the service.

I had an advantage over some other seekers who visit UU communities, which is that I had grown up in a liberal congregation that wasn’t UU, but had a lot in common culturally. My family had been active at our church growing up, and I had considered ministry in high school, but decided I was too much of a heretic. My congregational upbringing helped me figure out that I should enter on the social hall side of the building, where I came upon friendly folks hanging around before the service, instead of entering directly into the sanctuary, which was very quiet until shortly before the service. I didn’t worry too much about what to wear, because I could rely on my past experience. I was prepared to be the only person in my twenties, and was almost correct. The Director of Religious Education was a similar age to me, and he and I are still friends. I knew that a small congregation would be about making connections and joining activities, not about passively absorbing sermons, as much as I liked the sermons. I came in with the skills I needed to gather up the ingredients of belonging. I joined at the first opportunity, and have always been glad that I did. I figured out pretty quickly that heretics could, in fact, be ministers, but it took me another couple of years to follow that thought, and that’s another story.

Every Unitarian Universalist who attends a congregation makes a choice. Sometimes that’s the choice of a lifelong UU to keep attending during a time of great personal change, or to try a new congregation when they move. Sometimes that’s the choice to tune in online, even if in-person attendance isn’t possible. Sometimes that’s the choice to add Unitarian Universalism to a complex, spiritually pluralistic life. Sometimes the choice to become a Unitarian Universalist means leaving behind a different faith that no longer supports your thriving, even if that’s painful in terms of friendships or family. Sometimes exploring Unitarian Universalism is a choice to try something a little more organized, when life up to that point has been spiritual but not religious, and the customs and skills of being in a faith community are entirely new. We all make choices.

For those of us who have been Unitarian Universalists for more than a minute, we make choices, too. And those choices go beyond simply coming in the door or clicking “join” on the Zoom. Every community that is composed of human beings will break your heart at some point, and then we have a choice about what to do when our relationships and our covenants have been disrupted. For those of us with one or more marginalized identities, our beloveds are not going to be skillful about our tender places 100% of the time and we have a choice whether we’re ready for that risk on any particular day. For those of us who hold aspects of privilege, knowing that perfection is not possible, we have a choice to turn toward repair and connection instead of shame when we make a mistake. Unitarian Universalism is a faith that calls us to make choices every day.

Not only do we make choices for our own participation, we make choices about how to proactively include others. We make choices, intentionally or not, about how to maintain or dismantle barriers like racism, classism, and ableism that can get in the way of our neighbor’s sense of belonging, and certainly get in the way of the congregation living into its mission and values. Each one of us made a choice to put ourselves out there at some point, and it’s easy to overgeneralize about our own experience, but I hope every established friend and member of the congregation can remember that feeling of vulnerability, that question of belonging. Let us remain curious so that we can open our minds and hearts to ever new ways of welcome and inclusion.

This brings me to the text we’re drawing from today, Beyond Welcome: Building Communities of Love, edited by Linnea Nelson. This is an anthology of essays by nineteen different authors published by the Unitarian Universalist Association’s Skinner House Books @skinnerhousebooks designed to help congregations to build compassionate, authentic, and equitable communities. As the editor says in the introduction, the book Beyond Welcome “explores liberation through personal and collective reflections on belonging. These heart-felt essays explore the essence of what it means to each author to be in Unitarian Universalist Community.”

The authors of the essays in Beyond Welcome explore different aspects of inclusion, and they illustrate with personal stories. Each essay begins with a question for individuals to reflect on and journal about, and each essay concludes with a discussion question about applying another facet of welcoming and belonging to the reader’s own community. Some aspects of inclusion covered in the essays, like race, are topics that we have discussed before and will discuss again, because we are always learning. Some, like disability access and Transgender inclusion, are topics we have touched on and could use more focus. Social class is a topic that would be helpful and evocative for us to learn about together. All of the essays are interesting and personal, and worth some group study with your favorite TUS committee or affinity group, especially as we enter the coming year of working on this congregation’s Mission.

There are people in the world who would benefit by having a religious community that is warm, accepting, covenantal, anti-oppressive, non creedal, and spiritually grounded. We want there to be as few obstacles as possible for the people who need this community to find it, and to find a sense of belonging and shared mission once they arrive. We need to be open and curious about that, because, while each of us can sympathize with that feeling of vulnerability, the obstacles that new people face may not be the same as the ones we faced. We cannot assume that the solutions that helped us to arrive and to stay are the solutions that will work for everyone.

When I was a newcomer, I needed help with information. Members of the congregation I visited, not staff, did the work of being on the cutting edge of communication so that the information was available. Part of how I found a sense of belonging was in shared work for a common project, but some new people prefer reflection groups or social groups or one-on-one mentoring to find that sense of belonging. If there had been information on the website to help me figure out public transportation, I might have been able to get there sooner, and it remains an obstacle that so many UU congregations are not accessible without a car. The congregation I joined had done work in advance that helped lower barriers to inclusion, such as reflecting on multigenerational community and going through the certification as a Welcoming Congregation for LGBTQ inclusion. When congregations work on dismantling racism, classism, ableism, and other legacies of oppression, more people are able to find their spiritual home. That’s part of what the book Beyond Welcome is trying to help congregations to do.

In addition to the essays that deeply explore one aspect of identity and belonging, there are essays that weave all of those threads of diversity, equity, and inclusion together in a larger tapestry, a vision of beloved community with some ideas about how we might live into it more fully. The essay that we heard an excerpt from earlier in the service, “Built Through Trust,” by Rev. Manish Mishra-Marzetti, is one of the big-picture articles in the anthology.

Rev. Manish contrasts a dominant culture version of belonging, “a form of social currency that can be owned and bestowed,” with a form of belonging that he has observed in Indigenous cultures, where people understand coexistence as intertwined, and where community is grounded in “mutuality and multiplicity.”

Even in Unitarian Universalist communities faithfully and persistently on the journey toward justice and wholeness, the cultural water we swim in is salty with characteristics of dominance and control, and sometimes this affects the way we talk about belonging and membership in our congregations. Rev. Manish writes:

In our Unitarian Universalist circles, we might encounter, at times, questions related to the financial sustainability of a community. Invariably, at that juncture, outreach strategies and newcomers are invoked … Or, perhaps, the same cadre of congregational leaders is tired from having led the same programs and activities for so long. Here too, invariably, the conversation turns to newer people in the community: how do we get new people to lead the activities and programs that have been beloved, in the same way that familiar leaders have? In both of these scenarios, newer members are framed, explicitly or implicitly, as a commodity — a commodity that has utility for those who already belong. In his conceptualization of the ‘categorical imperative,’ the philosopher Immanuel Kant spoke vociferously against treating other human beings as a means to an end. We are not actually honoring the humanity of others when we do so.

Here at The Unitarian Society, my assessment is that specific new people are honored for their interests and needs and gifts. At the same time, in wishing for a return to a fuller sanctuary, fuller classrooms, fewer leadership vacancies, and the camaraderie and relevance that comes with having members from a diverse range of backgrounds and life stages, I do hear comments about longing for theoretical, not-yet-arrived newcomers who will come and help make things easier without making any major structural changes. I would like to challenge the idea that an advertising strategy will restore the congregation to a previous status quo. Outreach is still important, because there are people out there whose thriving would be enhanced if they could find their way here; it’s about their inherent worth, not about the organization’s needs.

If you are a visitor or a newcomer or a prospective member, it is my sincere belief that the members of this congregation warmly welcome you just as you are, and that they want you to find your calling in the congregation in a way that supports the unfolding of your own soul. Members want you to find connections and activities that help you to make friends and to feel empowered as part of the body of the congregation. I believe that is true, and I also know that sometimes we are less skillful or considerate than we might be when we discuss reaching out to potential visitors and members.

I believe that there are great possibilities ahead that do not depend on theoretical people. The future is interdependent. Focus on being ready to change and grow as we practice reciprocity and care. Get ready to meet the spiritual needs of all who journey together under this congregation’s covenant, equipping yourselves and each other to live out Unitarian Universalist values collectively and effectively. Start with the purpose that burns in your core as a spiritual community, not on outcomes like numbers or programs. This may require creative thinking and major structural change. It may require letting go of some things that feel like touchstones of stability. Focusing on purpose requires courage. Without that courage, maintaining the things we don’t need and can’t let go of becomes our unspoken purpose, at the expense of fully living into our mission and values.

Rev. Manish offers an alternative to the idea of belonging as social currency, and that’s “belonging as an unconditional facet of existence.” He points out that “we Unitarian Universalists are already–today–the most diverse we have ever been.” He invites us to rest in and operate out of truth, with all of the mutuality, reciprocity, curiosity, and multiplicity that infuses our commitment to the interdependent web of existence and to the inherent worth of every person.

To be the people we are meant to be, we must live into the fullness of who we are right now, not waiting for some other people to come and revive us to who we once were, but to care for each other in the here and now. Let us listen to all of the gifts and limits and creativity that are already among us in our multigenerational communities. Let us open the doors and the windows wide so that all who are called can enter and find themselves at home.

So be it. Blessed be. Amen.

#unitarian universalism #uu #skinner house books

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fanfic-g1-2022 · 2 years ago

Text

The Delusion

Boxer was still severely hurt even after the accident. He kept working on rebuilding the Windmill, always saying “I will work harder” and “Napoleon is always right”. As time passed, the wounds weren't being fully healed, even with Clover's help, Boxer's body only weakened.

All the animals were very concerned about his health, especially Old Benjamin, a good friend of Boxer. The pigs, even if they were busy, were always around. Boxer was very tired, he could hardly get up, building the Windmill had never been so difficult for him. During the night, Old Benjamin and Clover acted as caretakers, giving medicine provided by the pigs and doing everything they could to make him feel better.

Unfortunately, his health did not improve, every day it only got worse. Increasingly, the other animals were becoming more concerned. That situation saddened everyone. They looked at Boxer and saw his wounds and that he was not well, even though he said “I will try to work harder”. But of course, at that point, no animal would let him get up to make physical efforts. The construction at the Windmill no longer had his help and it took, little by little, longer and longer and longer to finish. There came a point when the pigs decided to take action.

"Comrades, pay attention," said Napoleon. “Concerned about the health of our friend, Boxer, we must do something. We should get in touch with a vet who can save his life, he should show up tomorrow morning.”

With that, the pigs contacted a doctor who would heal the injured animal. The next morning, sure enough, a truck arrived at the gates of Manor Farm. “Look, a truck!” said a sheep. All the animals stopped working to see what was going on. Frightened by the faster movements of the new people, who were taking Boxer with them, they quickly began crying and screaming desperately. At a certain point, they realized that the new ones were there to help Boxer with his health. They were taking him away, but soon his friend would be back and much better. They stopped crying and waved, saying “Bye-bye, Boxer!”.

Confused by the situation, Old Benjamin read aloud from the truck “Horse Slaughter… That's not a vet! Stop the truck!”. Everyone, now, began to understand what happened.

Frightened, the crying took over their bodies. They didn't understand how anyone would be able to take Boxer away. Clover was screaming like never before, seeing that was the hardest thing to process in her entire life, the truck was slowly moving out, and no one was able to catch up the truck. After that, Manor Farm stood in a minute of silence and great sadness.

"Calm down everyone, this is all just a misunderstanding." Pronounced Squealer. “The sign on the truck means nothing! It's just a truck borrowed from a Horse Slaughter, they currently work as vets." A substantial relief calmed the hearts of the animals, but not everyone was completely convinced, Old Benjamin knew what he had read minutes ago, he watched the desperation of everyone running after the truck to save Boxer, it wasn't all a lie.

Days later, Squealer told the animals that he went to visit Boxer, to see if his health improved. But unfortunately, he only experiences the last moments of his dear friend's life. “Forward in the name of the Rebellion. Long live Manor Farm! Long live Comrade Napoleon! Napoleon is always right.' Those were his very last words, comrades.” Said Squealer in the name of Boxer.

While the animals are depressed when they find out what happened to their friend, the pigs, together with Napoleon and Squealer, happily celebrate the success of the farm and the “peace” agreement with humans. Equated between pigs and people, the other animals that worked, watched curiously to know what was happening inside the house.

That same night, where Manor Farm slept longing for Boxer, Moses stirred uneasily. Dreamed. Dreamed of Sugar Candy Mountain. I dreamed of animal paradise, but with something new there. It looked like a familiar animal. The dream placed special emphasis on the new creature. It was Boxer. He was there, on Sugar Candy Mountain, happily waving. That was it! The animals, after they died, went to this paradise. Moses slept peacefully, dreaming of his great friend and thinking about how he would tell the good news to the other animals.

The next morning, he got up quickly and earlier than the others. Running fast from one side to the other. He decided that the right thing to do would be to tell Squealer and Napoleon about his discovery.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you,” Moses said. “I came here to inform you that tonight I dreamed of Boxer! He was happy! I was in a wonderful place, a beautiful place.

Squealer and Napoleon, at first, thought that was a joke and a lie created by Moses. But when they thought about it, they saw that it was not the worst of evils. It was an incredible thing! Squealer then proposed his idea, accepted by Napoleon. Seconds later, he said to the people in a meeting:

"Comrades, today I come here to inform you!" said Squealer. "Everyone already knows that our dear friend Boxer left us a few days ago. Everyone knew the good animal he was, working to ensure that everything was in order, especially the orders of our leader Napoleon!"Interrupted by the sadness of the animals.

"But, comrades, do not be sad. Moses, this night, said he saw him. He saw him in a beautiful place, more beautiful than any other, in a place where you can only go after you die and work hard, just like our friend Boxer. This place is what everyone here wants. A place where Boxer can rest after all he's done for us!" Now the cries were no longer of sadness, they were of happiness in knowing that the great friend was in a better place.

��This place, comrades, is called Sugar Candy Mountain!” Still processing the name, they had a brief memory that it was not strange to them, Moses had already mentioned this place. “Yes, Moses, our great friend, saw this happening, he saw Boxer happy again.”

Clover and Old Benjamin were very happy with what they heard, but Old Benjamin sensed that something wasn't right. But at least, now they were sure that their friend was happy in a good place where he could rest in peace. And they knew they could see him again. That night, the animals went to sleep happily, Manor Farm was happy again.

The next morning, everyone got up and saw that the only commandment was different, now it looked like two:

ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL, BUT SOME ANIMALS ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS

ALL ANIMALS THAT WORK HARD WILL BE ABLE TO, AFTER LIFE, BE WITH BOXER

When they heard what was written, they realized that the solution would be to work and always say “I will work harder”, just like Boxer did. That same day, Squealer came to the public again, but with Moses this time.

"Comrades, tonight Moses saw our friend again." Said Squealer. Moses excitedly added: “Yes, comrades, I saw him, I spoke with him. He told me that he already feels better. He misses everyone, he wants the Windmill to be ready soon and, in the end, he even added saying, “Napoleon is always right”.

With that, the days passed. The animals worked more and more. Every day, Moses and Squealer went public with what Boxer had told them each night. The animals continued working on the great friend's wish, to see the Windmill finished, to work hard, and all the things he most wanted. Manor Farm was growing every day, and the animals felt close to Boxer again. Every day more and more and more.

After hours of hard work, the animals were ready to rest, and start a new day, but something was wrong, Old Benjamin looked sick. “Old Benjamin, is everything okay?” asked Clover. "You've been coughing a lot these few days." Old Benjamin didn't want to appear weak, although never helping really much: “Of course I'm Clover, I'm quiet but sneaky, I'm just tired from the day's work, tomorrow we'll talk better”. The night was unusual, strong winds had never hit Manor Farm like that, the animals gathered to warm up and managed to resist the gusts.

The next day, everyone got up to honor Boxer working at the Windmill, but Old Benjamin didn't show up, the pigs were annoyed by the situation. “How is it possible for someone not to show up for work? In memory of Boxer, who worked most among us and put in effort in Napoleon's name! An example for sure, for all of us, this is a real lack of respect for our leader”, Squealer would say to the lined-up animals before starting the hard work.

“He's sick,” Clover replied. “Old Benjamin cared more than anyone else about Boxer if he was late it was definitely for a serious reason!” she said loudly, trotting back to Old Benjamin's barn.

There he was, lying on the straw all blown away by last night's wind, barely able to move. Gradually the other animals approached to see how sick he was, except for the pigs and three of the five sheep, which remained still, just following the movement of the animals with their eyes.

Clearly, Old Benjamin wouldn't be able to help build the Windmill, and Clover would be taking care of him. “Are you cold tonight? I'll get some medicine from the pigs so your cough gets better”, Clover talked and walked tiredly, the last few days had been very tiring for her, taking care of Boxer and still seeing him go, and now Old Benjamin. What else could happen to her poor life?

“Old Benjamin needs his medicine, please,” she said to Napoleon, apparently more occupied with papers at his small workbench than a comrade. "I think this one will do for you," returned Squealer, handing Clover an old flask of whiskey with a little water in it covered with a piece of cloth.

Old Benjamin felt no pain, but he felt really tired, the medicine didn't seem to have any effect, so he continued not to show up for work for another day in a row. Before long, another truck arrived at the gates of Manor Farm. “Look, the Sugar Candy Mountain truck!” said one of the chickens. “Did he come back to take us? Leader Napoleon, will you let us go?”, more chickens seemed excited about the idea. The noise on the farm made Old Benjamin's ear twitch, probably annoyed by what was happening.

"Comrades, remember that you will only reach Sugar Candy Mountain, those who work hard to build the Windmill, only then will you find Boxer!", exclaimed Napoleon. "The vet truck is here to take a very special comrade to a happy life with Boxer, bring Old Benjamin!

“If it was the right decision to make, he wasn't any better after the medication and rest, he would be better with Boxer… I'll bring him", said Clover. The men loaded him into the truck, it was the same employees as the other time. They locked the doors where Old Benjamin had been placed, and the truck started to move.

"Bye bye Old Benjamin! Good luck finding Boxer in Sugar Candy Mountain!"

“Bye Bye, I wish I was in your place!”, the animals waved and wished their friend well, after all, Moses would confirm the next day if he would be fine or not.

That was exactly what happened. “Squealer, I saw him, I saw Old Benjamin, eating grass in the valleys of Sugar Candy Mountain, along with Boxer jumping the crystal streams there, let's tell everyone!". A meeting was called, this time the animals were happy with what happened the day before, without apprehensions.

Now the animals were sure that every time a truck like the one that had taken Boxer and Old Benjamin arrived, was because someone was going to join them in Sugar Candy Mountain, where they would live happily, together with those who once were. For that, every day more, they worked more and exercised Boxer's wishes, said through Moses and Squealer.

THE END

#By: Marina Loreto and Yasmin Kato

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