arc852

[arc852]

You know what my vote is for!

[arc852]

With you posting for GT July AND a new life series, Christmas is coming early this year 🙏❤️

Aww, thank you! I am also really excited about the new life series coming out! I think it's going to be a good one. And hopefully I can get all the gtjuly prompts done. I...am sort of falling behind but I've got a few extra days off next week that I'm hoping to fill up with just writing.

[arc852]

I’m gonna be taking a small break away from the internet! For a multitude of reasons honestly, the main two being I want to focus on writing for gtjuly and I’m dealing with some personal stuff irl as well as some other things I don’t want to even mention on this blog.

I will for sure be back though! I want to go at least a week with no internet but we will see what happens lol.

[arc852]

Non-Official G/T July Prompts:

Since the official prompts still have yet to be released, and writing takes a decent amount of time, a friend ( @paperlicense687) and I came up with our own prompt list :D

Regardless of if official prompts (curtesy usually of @gianttol), hopefully everyone has a fun g/t July!

[arc852]

Does anyone know when the gtjuly prompts usually get posted?

[arc852]

Laundry Day

Summary: It's laundry day for the bad boys and Jimmy decides he wants to help out. Grian and Joel think this is a great opportunity for a little teasing.

Word Count: 1631

AO3 Link

Please enjoy this short but very sweet and fluffy fic!

______________________________________________________________

 “Ugh, laundry day.” Joel said in disgust as he placed his hamper full of clean clothes on his bed. “Literally the worst part about being in college.”

 Grian looked over from where he was setting down his own hamper, raising a brow at him with a faint smirk. “Are you saying your mom did all your laundry for you?” He said with a slight laugh.

 Joel’s face grew red. “No! Obviously I’m not that bad.” He glared and Grian as Grian only continued to laugh at how offended Joel had gotten. “I meant how we have to go all the way across the blummin’ building in order to wash our clothes. It’s such a hassle.”

 Jimmy looked between the two humans as he swung his feet, sitting on Joel’s nightstand as usual. He, personally, had been to the laundry room in the dorm building a handful of times before, in order to get some fabric. But he had soon realized all the good stuff was only there when there were a lot of humans around and Jimmy hadn’t wanted to take the risk. Still though, he had been there enough times to know what they were talking about.

 “It is a really long way.” Jimmy spoke up, gaining his humans’ attention. “Even cutting through the walls, it probably takes me…an hour? Maybe a little bit more?” It had been a while since he took a trip over that way. Well, and a while since he’s been in the walls in general. But he was pretty sure that’s how long it took him last time.

 “An hour?!” Joel looked at Jimmy with wide eyes. “Geez, it only takes us 5, maybe 10 minutes to head over there.”

 Grian had also been shocked but his shock soon fell away to more laughter. “See Joel, it could be a lot worse.”

 “Yeah, yeah.” Joel muttered, turning back to his clothes and taking one shirt off the top of the pile and starting to fold it. Jimmy watched him do so with rapt attention. This was not the first laundry day he was with his humans for, but he still found himself interested in the giant yet familiar motions. And they were familiar to him now, after watching them do laundry every other week for the last few months, to the point where he could probably help fold the clothes as well.

 And that’s what he was thinking about.

 “Can I help?” Jimmy asked and both humans paused and turned toward him once more. Joel raised an eyebrow at him and looked back and forth between him and the clothes he was folding.

 “Uh…I don’t know if-”

 “Sure.” Grian said, cutting Joel off as he crossed the room. Joel sent him a confused look. Jimmy was way too small to be able to help properly and they both knew that. But at Grian’s mischievous smirk, Joel started to understand what he was getting at. Joel felt his own smirk start to form at the thought of some harmless teasing of their borrower friend.

 Now on the same page, Grian reached down and scooped Jimmy up before bringing him to his own bed. Joel paused in his own task to follow them and watch what was about to happen. Jimmy slipped off Grian’s hand and onto the bed, next to the large pile of clean clothes. The very few folded ones that Grian had already done were in their own, neater, pile on the other side of the bed.

 “Alright, here you go.” Grian said as he grabbed a random shirt of his from the pile and laid it out for Jimmy on the bed. 

 Jimmy sized it up, circling it a bit to try and figure out where to start. Obviously the shirt was far bigger than he was but it was just a simple t-shirt. Surely he could pick up and drag and move the sections he needed to at the very least, right?

 He went to the end of the sleeve and grabbed the edge. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, before lifting and pulling at the sleeve. It was a bit difficult, but sure enough, Jimmy was able to drag it along, albeit a bit slower than he would have liked. As he dragged the fabric from one end to the other, he was very aware of Grian and Joel watching him. He glanced in their direction and felt some pride swell up in him when he noticed they actually looked impressed.

 After a couple of minutes, Jimmy made his way to the other end of the shirt, putting the sleeve on top of the other one. The shirt was now halfway folded but Jimmy was already feeling accomplished.

 “Where did that strength come from?” Grian teased. Jimmy rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the comment as he went to the top of Grian’s shirt to finish folding it.

 However, now that it was folded one way, the fabric bulk was now doubled and it was a lot harder for Jimmy to lift and drag. He gripped the edge, narrowing his eyes at the shirt as he thought about how to solve this. He decided on picking up as much of the edge as he could, backing away further and then lifting up and pulling back with all his might.

 He managed to gain enough momentum that the shirt started to come up. Unfortunately, Jimmy had no control over it past that point and it came back down, right on top of him. He let out a little yelp as he was forced down from the weight. “Darn it!” Jimmy exclaimed, though it came out muffled due to the fabric. He pressed his hand against the shirt and kicked at it but it wouldn’t budge.

 “Need some help there?” He heard Joel ask, barely able to conceal the fact that he was trying hard not to laugh. Jimmy huffed.

 “Yes, please.” Jimmy said as he managed to scoot out enough to poke his head out. Though just as soon as he had done so, he saw Grian with a large bundle of clothes in his hand, holding it up and over him. Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Wait-!”

 But it was too late, with a large grin from Grian, he released the clothes and it fell right on top of Jimmy. “Hey!” Jimmy said, his voice even more muffled now that there were multiple layers of clothes. Despite that though, he definitely heard Grian and Joel break out into laughter.

 Jimmy grumbled to himself though he really should have expected something like this. Knowing Grian and Joel weren’t going to do anything at the moment, their laughter still ringing out loudly, Jimmy tried his best to move through the folds of cloth and find a way out. He managed to start moving, but he could no longer tell which way was up or down and moving against the thick fabrics was starting to take a toll on him.

 “Guys, seriously!” Jimmy whined and he finally heard the laughter start to die down.

 “Alright, alright. Sit still, you’re just going to get yourself even more stuck.” Grian said and then Jimmy felt the clothes start to shift. Jimmy stopped and waited and after only a few moments, Grian’s fingers were parting away the clothes within his sights. The fingers carefully came over to him and grazed his legs before pausing, pulling back slightly. They carefully went back down though a second later, grazing over his body again. The large fingers going up from his legs to his side before they curled around him in a gentle grip and pulled him out.

 Jimmy blinked as he was brought back into the light, glaring up at Grian and Joel as soon as he oriented himself. Grian kept him in a fist for a moment longer before opening up his hand and letting him slide onto his open palm. Grian was still grinning that same stupid grin Jimmy saw before having all the clothes dropped on him, completely ignoring Jimmy’s glare.

 “You guys are the worst.” Jimmy said, as deadpan as he could.

 “We know.” Grian said, amused, bringing down a finger to ruffle Jimmy’s hair with. Jimmy swatted at Grian’s finger, trying to fix his hair as soon as Grian let up.

 “So, did you still want to help?” Joel asked, leaning in closer with an equally stupid smirk on his face.

 Jimmy huffed and turned away from both humans, crossing his arms at the same time. “No, you can do your laundry without my help.”

 “Aw come on, don’t be like that.” Joel said, quickly scooping Jimmy up from his spot on Grian’s hand and immediately poking at him with his free hand. “You actually did pretty good in the beginning. Maybe you can stick with folding socks.” Joel said with a slight laugh.

 “Nope! You lost your chance.” Jimmy said, trying to push away Joel’s finger. Unfortunately, Joel wasn’t letting up, still prodding his side with a smile.

 “You’re not actually upset though, right?” Grian asked, his tone was still light but Jimmy could feel the seriousness behind his words.

 Jimmy sighed but let a small smile fall onto his lips. “No, I’m not.” Jimmy admitted. He would have played the part of being annoyed longer but it seemed like Grian had needed the reassurance.

 Grian let out a small sigh of relief before his grin widened once again. He reached over and also poked Jimmy in the side. “Good, then maybe you could try again! I’m sure this time you’ll get it.”

 Jimmy knew all too well that if he tried again that the same exact thing would take place. So he sent a smile Grian’s way and laughed. “Not a chance.”

[arc852]

YES, EXACTLY! There is so much angst potential for both parties because the aliens are unaware they are even doing anything wrong and the human feels helpless to show them differently. In fact, the human is probably not even aware that the aliens don’t know they're sapient and just thinks the aliens see humans as less than them. Enough to turn them into pets.

Joel would be so pouty when he figures out what’s going on. He feels helpless and he hates feeling helpless so he lashes out but that just gets him put in a sort of ‘time out’ by the aliens and really only makes himself feel worse. But Joel refuses to accept his fate as a pet.

Meanwhile, the aliens are confused and worried about why their human keeps lashing out and doesn’t seem to be comfortable at all with them, even after so much time trying to acclimate him to them. (Although it probably doesn't help that the less patient of the aliens tend to just grab him when he isn't listening).

I need the kind of angst only a pet au can provide.

[arc852]

Alien pet au but Joel is the human and the rest of magic mountain are the aliens.

I need the kind of angst only a pet au can provide.

[arc852]

I absolutely need an alien pet au with a dash of language barrier. Let the aliens not be aware the little human pet they have is sapient.

I need the kind of angst only a pet au can provide.

[arc852]

I need the kind of angst only a pet au can provide.

[arc852]

Hey! I just wanted to ask if it was okay to make an AU based off your storyline? I feel so inspired by your writing and I would love to make one of my own!

Anyways, thank you! ❤️

Oh, that's awesome! Of course you can, I don't mind at all! In fact, please tag me if you do because I would love to read it!

[arc852]

I've already said it but I will say it again (and forever), this is AMAZING!! Thank you so much!!!

Commission for @arc852 's jimmy borrower AU! HE'S 🤏 4 INCHES TALL

[arc852]

Going Back and Moving On

Summary: Skizz is fourteen when he decides to try and get some closure.

Word Count: 4291

AO3 Link

It's another blast from the past, though this time Imp and Skizz are a little bit older! I hope you guys enjoy!

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 Skizz was fourteen when he finally felt brave enough to go back into the walls.

 It was on a random day, a school day, Skizz was reminded as he woke up and saw Impulse stuffing his bag with homework before moving to gather some clothes to get changed with. Skizz yawned and turned away, allowing himself a few extra minutes of shut eye before Impulse came over to ‘wake’ him up.

 Skizz listened to the shifting and shuffling of Impulse getting ready as he burrowed himself more into his own blankets. He was currently on Impulse’s nightstand in a small blanket that Impulse had wrapped around many times to make a sort of nest for Skizz to sleep in. Skizz always went back and forth between this spot and under the bed when it came to sleeping. Sometimes, he would even sleep on Impulse, it always depended.

 But he had been on the nightstand last night, so it was a lot easier for Impulse to come over and nudge at him gently with a finger. “Come on Skizz, I know you aren’t actually sleeping.” Impulse said and Skizz groaned. After four years, it was hard to hide anything from Impulse anymore. Even something as simple as pretending to still be asleep.

 Skizz huffed and turned himself over, glaring up at Impulse as Impulse simply returned the look with a smile. “Unless you want to make me late for school, you better start getting ready.” Impulse said, his arms were crossed but his tone was light.

 Skizz groaned but finally sat up, raising his arms up in order to stretch them. Impulse watched him fondly, a look that Skizz was far too used to at this point. “Actually,” Skizz started, looking off to the side. “I think I’m gonna stay here today, if that’s alright with you.” Skizz said with a simple shrug, although his heart was beating a bit faster than normal. It had nothing to do with Impulse, however, but of Skizz’s well thought out plans for the day once Impulse actually left.

 Impulse blinked, confused. “Oh-I mean, yeah of course.” Impulse said, his confusion slowly turning into a smile. It wasn’t like this was the first time Skizz hadn’t gone with him to school. It just hadn’t really happened in a while. “Did you need me to set anything out for you?” Impulse asked as he reached over and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

 Skizz thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. There wasn’t really anything Impulse could give to him for what he needed to do. “Nah, I’m okay.” Skizz said and Impulse nodded.

 “If you’re sure. I’ll see you after school then. Make sure to hide if you hear mom coming up though.” Impulse added on at the end, a bit of worry seeping through his tone.

 Skizz rolled his eyes affectionately. “I know, I know.” Even after so many years of knowing each other and keeping Skizz hidden, Impulse still couldn’t help but be worried about Skizz being found out. Skizz was thankful he was so careful but at the same time, if Impulse’s parents, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t found out about him by this point in time, then they probably never would. “Now get going or you’ll be late.” Skizz said with a slight laugh. Impulse chuckled and waved goodbye before leaving his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Skizz alone.

 Skizz took a few deep breaths, his smile slipping as soon as he knew Impulse was gone. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes and letting the tiredness he still felt take over him for a moment. It would be so easy for him to fall back asleep. To forget about his plan and simply get a few more hours of rest.

 But Skizz needed to do this.

 With a sigh, Skizz opened his eyes again and threw off the blanket in order for him to stand up fully. He stretched a bit more before reaching for his borrowing bag and hook. His borrowing bag was the only thing he still had from his previous life in the walls. And the hook had been given to him by Impulse a little after they had first met. It allowed Skizz some small sense of independence, being able to get around on his own. Not that Skizz didn’t like being carried everywhere by Impulse, but the option was nice to have.

 He used his hook to get down from the nightstand and then slowly made his way over toward Impulse’s desk. Sure, he could have used the entrance underneath the bed, it was far closer after all. But Skizz needed the extra time to really think about what he was doing. Of course by taking the long way he risked bailing all together but Skizz was confident he could go through with it.

 His grip on his bag strap tightened as he got closer. It had been so long since he had last been in the walls. The last time being right after he had met Impulse. Seeing the wreckage his dad had left…he hadn’t gone back since. And really, there had been no reason for him to go back. He had Impulse now, a real home where he was taken care of and had someone who actually cared about him. Why would he ever even need to go back?

 …Skizz had been thinking about that question a lot lately.

 Too much, some might say, especially since it had been four years since everything had happened. A good four years. The best four years of Skizz’s short life. So with such a good life now, why did his mind start to wander back into the walls? Why couldn’t he just let it go?

 He thought about talking to Impulse about this, but Skizz knew this was something he had to figure out on his own. And he kind of had. Skizz had figured that the only way to stop thinking about the walls was to…go back in them. Maybe closure was what he needed. Because really, leaving how he did, with everything like that, had been far from a satisfying ending.

 Skizz let out a yelp as he suddenly ran into the wall, so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t been paying attention to how close he was getting. He backed up a few steps and rubbed at his face, thankful Impulse hadn’t been around to see that.

 He looked at the wall in front of him, his heart beating loud in his ears. His knuckles were turning white with how tight he was holding onto the strap of his bag and his breathing was picking up a bit more. Everything in him was screaming to turn back around and leave it. 

 But he had to do this.

 Before he could hesitate anymore, he pushed against the wall’s secret entrance and slipped inside. The walls were dark. Far darker than he remembered them being. He rubbed at his eyes and they slowly started to adjust, but it wasn’t anywhere close to adjusting to how it used to be. All these years out of the walls must have changed his eyes.

 He shook his head and pushed oneward, one hand against the walls to ground himself more than anything. He didn’t need to see much anyway, he supposed. He knew where to go, even after all this time. His body moved on instinct, turning left and then right, and left again. He was close now. 

 And then there it was. The hand made door that led into his old home, something his dad had made years before he had been born. He placed his hand on it and then took it off just as quickly. His mouth was dry and he already felt tears prick the corners of his eyes despite the fact he wasn’t even inside yet. He took another deep breath and placed his hand back on the door, pushing it open before he could decide otherwise.

 A small part of him almost expected to see his father standing there, waiting for him. But of course, Skizz was met with an empty home. Skizz stayed in the doorway for a long moment, simply staring inside. He could see the main room from where he was and it was exactly as he had left it. Things were toppled over and broken or otherwise completely destroyed. The only difference being the thick layer of dust that had accumulated over the years.

 Skizz took a step inside. And then another. And another. And soon he found himself in the center of it all. His eyes scanned over everything and he couldn’t help but remember the feeling from before. When he had seen the wreckage for the first time. He let out a shaky breath and continued further into the home. His bedroom door was open, just as he had left it. He could already see what had been ingrained in his mind since that day. His old hook and string still layed on the floor, bent and cut.

 He reached toward his side and absentmindedly grazed the hook that hung at his hip.

 He supposed that was as best of a place as any to start. He all but fell to his knees, wincing as he was reminded of how he had done so before, and carefully started to pick up the mess. He gathered all 18 pieces of his old string and his bent hook before standing and moving back into the main room. 

 There was still a small plastic bag in the area they had used to eat and store food and so Skizz threw the broken pieces of his old life into it.

 He didn’t expect to feel all that different. But…he did feel a bit lighter. Throwing it away felt so final. And when he closed his eyes, the room in his mind no longer held the broken hook and string either. Skizz smiled to himself, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

 He turned back toward the rest of the place. It was time to put this all to rest.

 Skizz proceeded to spend the next several hours cleaning. He threw things that were too broken away, but if they didn’t seem too bad Skizz made an effort to try and fix it with some materials he had found lying around. He didn’t always succeed but on a few things, he managed to get it looking okay and placed it back where it had gone before. He dusted everywhere, using an old feather he found to push the dust out. And as Skizz cleaned and fixed things, it became less stuffy inside, bit by bit.

 Skizz wiped some sweat off his forehead as he managed to finish both the main room and his room. Of course, things weren’t exactly the same as before. He had to throw a lot of stuff away after all. And he couldn’t exactly fix the dent in the wall. His dad had gone especially crazy inside his room. But it was as neat as it could be and that’s all that really mattered.

 He didn’t live here anymore anyway, so the lack of personality was just fine by Skizz.

 He left his room, throwing one last thing away and noticing the bag was starting to get too full. Thankfully, he only had one last room left to clean out. Unfortunately, that room happened to be his dad’s.

 He glanced over in the direction of the closed door. Even back then, Skizz hadn’t looked in the room. He had been too distracted by how everything else looked to even think about going in there. Whatever was behind that door was a mystery to Skizz, one that scared him more than he was willing to admit.

 But he was so close to getting this done. So close to that closure he sought after. He could do this one last room.

 He pushed it open and what he saw behind the door…didn’t surprise him.

 Most everything was just completely gone. There were a few things tossed around here and there, a few broken pieces but mostly the room itself was empty.

 Skizz let out a small sigh. His dad must have taken most of his things with him when he left. Honestly, this was the best case scenario for Skizz. It meant he didn’t have to look at anything new that would remind him of his dad. He grabbed the feather and started cleaning the room, dusting the floor and throwing what little was inside away.

 Coming back into the room, he made his way toward one of the only pieces of furniture left inside, a wooden handmade dresser that his dad had made around the same time he had made all of their doors. What was weird about the dresser though, was that it seemed to be the only thing in the entire place that had remained untouched. It wasn’t broken and the door was firmly shut. Skizz reached for the handle and pulled it open.

 At first glance, Skizz thought the dresser was completely empty. But looking closer, pushed into the very corner of the dresser, was a bag.

 Skizz was confused. Surely his dad would have taken his borrowing bag with him. But as he pulled it out, he realized it looked nothing like how his dad’s had.

 Skizz’s breath hitched and he almost desperately turned it over, looking frantically at the precise stitching. And then he saw it. His eyes widened and he carefully grazed his thumb over the name that was stitched into the side of the bag. Small enough to not draw attention but noticeable, like the person who left it was too proud of her work to leave it without.

 This was his mom’s bag.

 Why would his dad not take it though? Surely his dad would have wanted to keep this, to remember her by…Although, his father seemed pretty adamant on not wanting anymore reminders of his wife. It was his whole reasoning for abandoning him after all.

 Either way, whether his dad left the bag on purpose or accident, it didn’t really matter. What did matter was that he had it now.

 Skizz carefully slipped off his own bag, noticing how his mom’s was bigger. He set his bag on the floor and put his mom’s bag over his shoulder instead. Again, the bulk of it was bigger and it would take some getting used to, but it felt…right. He knelt down on the floor and opened his bag and then his mom’s, getting ready to transfer everything over. But he paused when he opened his mom’s bag and saw a folded up piece of paper inside.

 It was otherwise empty but Skizz couldn’t stop his hand from shaking as he reached for it. He turned it over and his heart just about leaped out of his chest when he saw his own name on the front of it.

 Slowly, he turned the paper back around and started unfolding it. There were paragraphs of words on the paper, all in the same style as the stitched name on his mom’s bag. Swallowing the forming lump in his throat, his eyes started to scan the page.

 Skizz,

 I’m not doing well. 

 I know that’s no way to start a letter, especially to my own baby, but the truth is the further I get into this pregnancy the weaker I feel. I can barely even get out of bed anymore and I sleep more often than not. 

 I fear I will not live to see you, my sweet baby. 

 It took me a while to process that, if I’m being honest. That I won’t get to see you, or hold you, or watch you grow up. I cried for a good few hours straight once I realized. But…I think I’m okay now. I still wish it wasn’t the case, of course, but if it means you get to live then I would happily give my life for yours.

 …Your father doesn’t know how bad it really is. Or maybe he does and he’s trying to ignore it. Either way he’s running around worried sick over me and you. I’m sure at this point you are well aware of how your father can be when he’s so worried. I can only imagine what he’ll be like when you get sick for the first time. I’m sure you were pampered to the moon and back.

 Skizz paused there, a few tears pooling in his eyes as he processed everything he read in that first chunk. So his mom knew she probably wouldn’t make it. But she had come to terms with it, at least as far as she said in the note. And his father…

 Skizz shook his head and continued reading.

 I decided to write this little note to you, because I want you to know my words at least once. To read with your own eyes how much I love you.

 Okay, Skizz was actively crying now. He did his best to keep the paper away from his falling tears and wiped at his eyes enough to continue reading.

 I’m sure you know this by now but in borrower culture, I would have made you your own bag before you were born and given it to you once you reached the age to go borrowing. I did start one in the very beginning, when I first realized I was pregnant with you, but I’m much too weak now to finish it. So instead, I want to give you my borrowing bag. It’ll be something that can connect the both of us together, even when I’m gone. And that thought alone makes me so happy. I plan on putting this note in my bag for you as well, so that you can read it when you’re old enough to understand.

 I’m not telling your father about the note. Only because he’d probably make me rewrite the whole thing simply because I keep referring to you as Skizz. Your father is so sure you’re going to be a girl. But I know better. I know you. Even if I’ll never get to meet you properly, I know you are my precious little boy and I know that your name is Skizz.

 I’m sorry I can’t be there for you. But I know you are in good hands. Your father assures me everyday that he will spoil you no matter who you turn out to be. I hope he spoils you enough for the both of us. It’s hard, leaving this all to him, but I trust that he’ll keep you safe.

 I love you, Skizz. And though I am not able to be there with you, I hope you can still know how true that is.

 Be good and be you.

 Love,

Mom

 Skizz reread the letter at least another three times before he lowered it. He stared at the bag, tears still in his eyes though he was no longer actively crying. He just felt…sad. Sad for what could have been.

 He wished his dad could’ve been the person his mom had known.

 Unfortunately, he had changed drastically after her death. Something she couldn’t have predicted. But she had wanted the best life possible for him and Skizz’s heart ached for someone he never even knew.

 He couldn’t help but wonder if his mom would be happy with his life as it was now. He was happy, Impulse was the best thing to ever happen to him. But what would his mom think?

 He obviously couldn’t know for sure, but he decided to think that she would also be happy. Happy that he got away from his father who had changed and was living a life where he was actually cared for. At the very least, from her note, she seemed the type of person to feel that way. 

 He carefully folded up the letter again and placed it into one of the many pockets of his mom’s bag for safe keeping. He then proceeded to transfer all of his things over to his new bag and once his old one was empty, he put it in the dresser. The same spot his mom’s bag had been in. There was really no use in taking it with him, after all. It was old and falling apart anyway.

 With his new bag slung over his shoulder, Skizz left his father’s old room, closing the door shut behind him. There was nothing left for him in there. And as he looked to the rest of his old home, he realized there was nothing left for him anywhere. He was happy to see it cleaned and put back together, it certainly did wonders for his want of closure. But now that it was all said and done, there was nothing left for him.

 He gripped tightly on his bag strap before releasing it and letting his hand hang at his side. He went to the front door and glanced back one last time before leaving, making sure he closed the door behind him. His hand stayed on the handle for a bit too long but Skizz couldn’t find it in himself to care. He let out a breath and released his grip on the knob before turning and walking away.

 His new bag was bigger by his side but it felt good, like his borrowing bag finally fit him now. It hit his side gently as he walked along the paths in the walls, back to where he had come in from, back to Impulse’s room. 

 As he stepped back out into the light and made his way past the desk, it was then that there was a sudden knock on the door. Three knocks with a beat of silence in between them, the signal they had long since come up with so Skizz would know it was Impulse coming in and not anyone else.

 There was another beat of nothing before Impulse opened the door and walked in. Skizz watched as Impulse’s eyes first went to the nightstand but before Impulse spent any longer looking for him, Skizz cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up in his direction. “Impulse! I’m down here!” Skizz said along with a small wave and watched as Impulse’s eyes snapped right to him.

 Impulse smiled and set his backpack at the foot of his bed before coming over and reaching down toward Skizz, scooping him up into his hand with ease. Skizz didn’t even flinch, far used to being picked up. “Hey, how was…” Impulse started to ask as he stood back up but paused when he seemed to notice something. A thumb carefully came forward and rubbed at his arm before coming away and angling itself so Impulse could see the pad of it. Impulse frowned. “Why are you so dusty?”

 Skizz blinked and looked down at himself, not realizing he was covered in dust. It made sense though, of course. He had just spent the last few hours cleaning within the walls. Before Skizz could answer though, because it wasn’t like he was trying to hide it, Impulse’s other hand came up and gently lifted Skizz’s new bag to get a better look at it. Impulse’s eyes were furrowed with confusion. “And wait…this isn’t your bag.”

 A small part of Skizz wanted to rip the bag away from Impulse’s fingers but the majority knew that Impulse was nothing if not gentle and there was really no reason for Skizz to worry about his mom’s bag. “It…is now.” 

 Impulse let the bag slip from his fingers and it fell gently back to Skizz’s side as he waited for Skizz to explain. Skizz sighed and let his hands wander back to the strap of said bag. “I might have gone back into the walls.” Skizz admitted, not quite meeting Impulse’s eyes.

 “Wait, what?” He asked, shock and confusion thick in his tone.

 Skizz just nodded. “I wanted closure. I wanted…I needed to settle my mind. So I went back and cleaned everything up.” Skizz looked back down at his bag, running a hand over it. “I found this tucked away. It…it was my mom’s.”

 “Your mom?” Impulse’s voice was soft when he spoke because he knew more than anyone what this meant. Skizz had shared so much with Impulse about his past, his dad, and the little he knew about his mom. So the fact that he had found something from her, well, Impulse was aware of just how big of a deal that was.

 “Yeah, she left me a note and everything…she knew she was passing away and she wanted me to have her old bag.” Skizz thought about taking the note out and reading it out loud for Impulse but he didn’t think he would be able to get the words out right now. Not out loud and not without crying.

 “Oh Skizz…” Impulse trailed off.

 “I’m okay.” Skizz said and surprisingly, he wasn’t completely lying. “Cleaning my old home…and finding my mom’s old bag…it helped. It helped a lot.”

 Impulse searched his eyes and let out a small sigh before a small smile overtook his features. “Well, I’m glad for that then.” He gently prodded the bag. “It does suit you.” 

 Skizz felt like he was going to cry. He wiped at his eyes to stop any tears from actually falling. “Yeah.” He said, leaning back against Impulse’s fingers, and keeping his hand on the bag, his own fingers grazing over the stitching of his mom’s name. “I think so too.”

[arc852]

I love this!! Love g/t mers, they are always so fun. Poor Jimmy though, being abandoned and not even knowing...I'm glad Tango found him! At least now Jimmy isn't alone and he'll actually survive!

Also the image of Jimmy curling himself around Tango's fingers is soooo cute, tiny mer Jimmy in general just sounds like a cutie.

Since it's mermay, what about little mer jimmy getting rescued by big mer tango?

Jimmy was lost. He had never been in a tank this big before- Well, not tank. This was the ocean. At least that was what his latest owner had called it before they had dumped his bowl in the water. It was overwhelming to say the least. There were bright colored structures and hides and so many fish that fluttered and swam around. He had been swimming for several minutes now and still hasn't found a wall, and he was growing close to the edge of the displays, just rocks and sand here.

The rocks were moving. He stopped, staring down at the greyish red rock that was walking on six little legs. That was certainly new, must be some kind of shrimp-thing his owner had added (he's only known fish and shrimp and humans and his owners, this thing was colored like shrimp and had legs sorta like a shrimp and didn't look anything like a human or a fish). He floated down to it, surprised at how big it was, he was used to being the biggest thing in his tank, and this thing was about as big as he was.

He floated in front of it, scrunching his face at the beady eyes, "You're kind of an ugly- OUCH!" he yelped as one of its clampy hand pinched down on his tail.

"What- What are you-" he squeaked, trying to beat his tail out of the shrimp-thing's grip. It didn't release, instead nearly snapping its other hand around Jimmy's arm, which he barely dodged. "Let go!"

The shrimp-thing didn't listen, and he cried out as it grabbed around his tail with its other hand instead. Jimmy was suddenly hit with the realization that this was a predator. He's never been put into a tank with a predator before. Why didn't his owner tell him the giant shrimp-things were dangerous!?

It was clamping down on his tail, pulling and bruising and cutting into him and it hurt. He was getting hurt! He was in pain and- and it wasn't stopping. Where was his owner to come stop this? How was he supposed to get away when his tail was caught?

A shadow fell over them and he immediately tried to swim up towards it—shadows usually meant humans—and the tearing feeling in his tail made him nearly pass out. He was screaming and thrashing and then thankfully, blissfully, there were hands around him. They were able to pry the awful clamp-hands away from his tail and he clung to their fingers.

"What the heck are you doing, little guy? You trying to get eaten?" A shrieky voice asked him.

He blinked slowly, still trying to think past the relief of being saved and the pure pain radiating from his tail. He looked up at the person, squinting at what definitely looked like a human but wasn't, considering they were in the tank with him. They were blonde with red eyes and colored freckles all over this face.

"No one told me there were predators in here," he whined, flicking his tail and immediately regretting it. He curled it so it was resting in the person's hand. "How was I supposed to know the ugly shrimp-rock-thing was going to attack me?"

"Wah- of course there are predators! This is the ocean!" The person responded.

Jimmy huffed at that, "This is my first time being in an ocean! I don't know what's in here!"

"What do you mean it's your first time in the ocean!? What- What??"

"My last two owners had tanks. I didn't like the last one, was waaaay too small, but, honestly, I don't think this is much of an improvement. This place feels too big and.. dangerous," Jimmy explained, "Do you think you could ask my owner for a proper tank instead of the ocean. I won't be picky about the size as long as there's no predators. I- uh- probably need to go in a sick tank anyway until my tail heals."

"Oh. Oooh. Oh, buddy, you are not going to like the next words out of my mouth," they said, holding him a little closer to his chest, "Your uh- your owner dumped you, bud, you're not going back into a tank. You're stuck out here."

"What!?" Jimmy exclaimed, "How am I supposed to rest my tail— How am I supposed to get food?"

They sighed, hand rubbing over their face, "I guess, if I don't want to be a jerky-jerk, I'll help you out. What's your name, little guy?"

"They called me Jimmy."

"Right, well, Jimmy, I'm Tango. Let's get you back to my pod," they said.

It was then that Jimmy realized that Tango was a mer himself, his eyes widening as he peered around Tango's hands to look down at the bright red tail. It flicked and shifted as Tango turned around and then with a few quick beats they were off, zooming through the water faster and further then Jimmy had ever gone before.

He curled himself tighter around Tango's fingers and smiled to himself. He's had owners and he's had fish to play with, but he's never had a friend before. Tango seemed like a good one to have.

[arc852]

See, my first thought was Grian would have Scar but Impulse would also be such a good choice. I'm always a sucker for desert duo but at the same time, I feel as though there might be more interesting things to explore if it's Impulse. Like the fact that, if we're doing TIES, that means Skizz is unaccounted for and something could be done with him. I also think Grian would treat both Scar and Impulse differently, so that would be interesting to explore too...

I am always down to talk about any sort of G/t tropes!! We should totally bounce ideas off each other sometime!!

ALSO STOP, YOU ARE TOO SWEET! You are cool too! Very cool, you've got great ideas and writing!

You said evil Jimmy, bad boys, and only nice to Tango and my mind went crazy lol. And of course I had to make it Gt. So, what if, the bad boys run this underground black market thing where they capture and sell borrowers. But each bad boy has a borrower they keep with them. And Tango is Jimmy’s but he doesn’t know how to feel because Jimmy is genuinely nice to him and treats him like a person. But with every other borrower, Jimmy treats them the exact opposite.

They pulled into the drive-thru of the McDonald’s and Jimmy tilted his head down to glance at Tango, flicking his sunglasses up, “You want your usual, Rancher? Chicken nuggets with nether sauce?”

Tango grinned, his tail flicking “Yes, sir, Rancher buddy!”

Jimmy nodded and turned down the music as they reached the ordering screen. He ordered three Mcdouble combos, a twenty piece chicken nugget with ranch, barbeque and nether sauce.

On the way home Jimmy tapped the steering wheel along with the music and when one of Tango’s favorites came on he turned it up and they both sang along rather poorly. Tango loved these moments alone with Jimmy—it felt like an honest friendship.

And then they pulled into the driveway of the “Bad Boy Mansion”.

It was a small rancher home with two bedrooms the size of closets and the attic they diy-ed to be a third. Tango had lived in it’s walls for years, going through a few families before Jimmy, Grian, and Joel moved in. He was lucky to still be able to call the house home.

Joel’s voice pitched from the porch, just as irritated as he usually was, “What took you so long?”

“The line went around the building, ain’t nothing I could do!” Jimmy shouted back as he gathered the fast food and drinks into his arms. Then he looked down at Tango and at his full arms and sighed, “Shoot. Tango, climb up, would you?”

Tango bit the inside of his cheek to keep from whining as he climbed out of the cupholder and onto Jimmy’s lowered sleeve. From there he hoisted himself up to Jimmy’s shoulder and held onto the collar. Jimmy kicked the car door closed and headed for the house.

Tango looked towards the house to see Joel stood on the porch, eyes narrowed in their direction. “Would you stop letting him do that?”—he jabbed a finger in Tango’s direction—“Someone’s going to see him one of these days.”

“You’re just jealous because Etho would rather fling himself to the floor than ride your shoulder,” Jimmy replied, holding out the drink carrier for him to take, “Now help out, would you?”

Joel reluctantly took the drinks, if only to make sure Jimmy didn’t drop them. Inside the house they dropped the food on the kitchen table and started unpacking the bags.

Grian joined them, looking through the food, “Did you get your borrower an entire twenty piece chicken nugget?”

“No! The chicken nuggets are for all the borrowers,” Jimmy snapped. He scooped Tango off his shoulder and set him on the table.

Tango stumbled on his feet and backed up a few steps to give the humans plenty of room to unpack and set up their meals. Jimmy grabbed a single chicken nugget, cut it into chunks with a plastic knife and set it on a napkin with the opened nether sauce in front of Tango.

“We got a couple now, thought I’d get them some too,” Jimmy continued, setting the rest of the nuggets aside. “Also we ran out of bread.”

“You spoil them,” Grian teased, elbowing Jimmy.

“You spoil Tango,” Joel added, dropping down into a chair, “I mean no wonder he doesn’t try and run like ours. Jimmy’s gone and cut his food for him too, like he’s the blooming prince of fairies.”

Tango bit his tongue, knowing that if he said anything at all it would mean trouble.

“You think if I do that for Effo he’ll actually stop making escape attempts?” Joel asked.

Grian snorted, “Definitely not. Etho’s practically feral. Never seen a borrower throw themselves off a dresser until him.”

“I’m going to sell him,” Joel declared, taking a giant bite into his burger. Tango froze, not daring to look up at Joel.

“You don’t mean that,” Jimmy said.

“I do!” he replied around a full mouth, “His cool factor has worn off. Someone would pay loads for an albino borrower, I bet. I would have.”

Tango felt his heart drop into his stomach, nausea hitting him like a train. Joel wouldn’t– He couldn’t. Etho was Tango's friend. Etho was one of the last things he had connecting him to being a borrower. The next time he spoke to Etho he was going to have to beg him to start listening to Joel, as much as it killed them both, he couldn’t lose another friend.

“Well, you got a big pool to pick from right now if you want to switch him out for another,” Grian said, shrugging and picking at his own fries.

(That is, if Tango even had a chance to talk to him again at all.)

The Bad Boys finished their meals, Tango barely picking at his nugget, appetite long lost.

Jimmy was the one to gather the trash and shove it down into the trash can. He grabbed up the remaining chicken nuggets (Joel and Grian had nabbed a few themselves) and held out a hand for Tango, “Coming bud?”

Tango hesitated– he really didn’t want to, but staying in the kitchen meant Grian and Joel could get grabby. They wouldn’t hurt him, sure, but they made it abundantly clear they thought Jimmy was too soft with him. He’s been poked and prodded plenty of times between the two of them, tossed in the air more then once, and Joel once tried to hide him from Jimmy by shoving him in his own sock drawer. He didn’t want a repeat of any of that if he could manage it.

He stepped onto Jimmy’s hand and was promptly slipped into his jean-jacket pocket. He sat, grabbing a bit of pocket lint and pulling it apart bit by bit, unable to keep his hands still for the short ride.

Tango swayed and bounced as Jimmy turned out of the house, and he recognized the familiar creaking of the screen door and it slamming itself shut. His feet crunched in the unkempt backyard and Tango’s tail flicked as he heard the shed door open. He hated this fucking shed.

Jimmy’s hand reached for him, fingers wrapping around his middle. His stomach swooped as he was lifted and set down once again. Jimmy was already tearing the chicken nuggets into pieces as he steadied himself, humming a song that had gotten stuck in his head from the ride home and barely acknowledging the big fat elephant that sat in front of him.

The tank of borrowers.

It was set on a shelf, the wire top clamped down several times over. A heat lamp hung over it and one of those plastic hamster hides was pushed into a corner. It was lined with a towel that hadn’t been washed since it was set and the dirt stains from many little shoes were prominent. There were only two borrowers in sight, but Tango knew for a fact there were six in the tank. The Bad Boys’ latest haul. They got lucky catching the group crossing between backyards (and the Bad Boys weren’t above trespassing to get their hands on more borrowers. No one would notice a few mouse sized people missing).

Tango had been set down on the shelf, right next to the tank. One of the borrowers was staring at him and he gave a small wave— the stare immediately dropped into a glare and the borrower turned swiftly away from his direction. Tango’s tail tucked itself between his legs.

“Alright fellas,” Jimmy chirped, undoing the clamps and pushing the tank open with a clang. He set the box of torn up chicken inside, along with two open sauce packets, “Got some food for ya’s.”

“How long do you plan to keep us here?”

Tango’s head snapped back to the borrower. He was practically a half inch taller then Tango was, muscular and what looked to be old chemical burn scars all up his arm and over his face. Tango had seen some of the things he was carrying before Grian had tore them off his person and he had some pretty advanced borrower tech. He hasn’t heard a name from him yet and a part of him hopes he won’t.

Jimmy barely blinked at the question, already fitting the top back on, “Oh, just until we can secure a buyer, not long for some of your friends but you… Well, hard to find someone that wants pre-damaged goods.”

Tango hated the shed. Jimmy was different in here. Jimmy was cruel in here.

(Tango knew it wasn’t just the shed, as much as he wanted to pretend it was. He knew that Jimmy would and did act just the same to any borrower no matter where he was. He knew this was as much the real Jimmy as the one that sang songs and taught him how to read more than a few simple sentences and let him play with loose circuits boards. He was just always this Jimmy in the shed, and the shed had become his association with the worst of him.)

“You plan to turn us into pets?” The borrower growled. His voice was gruff, with some kind of thick accent. He wondered where he could have gotten it, or if he was somehow foreign—Most likely he grew up in a house with a bean with an accent, but it wasn’t impossible for borrowers to travel to other countries. That was dangerous, sure, but the guy looks like he’s gone through his fair share of danger.

“Uh, yeah,” Jimmy replied, a smirk creeping over his lips, “People pay a lot for a pet that can talk. Isn’t that nice? Usually something as insignificant as you would be considered a proper pest.”

“You’re not making a dime from us. We’ll get out. You don’t scare me,” The borrower said, his tail thrashing behind him.

“You’re able to escape this? Wow! Color me impressed!” Jimmy punctuated his statement by snapping the clamps back in place. Then he casually grabbed a brick off the ground and dropped it right on top of the lid. “Man, when we come back and you’ll be gone–? Just, know, I’ll be making this face–” He clapped his hands to his face, jaw dropped exaggeratedly.

“Fuck you, man! Fuck you!” The borrower shouted, kicking at the glass of the tank.

Jimmy laughed, retaliating by knocking repeatedly on the tank until one of the other borrowers, still tucked away in the hide, poked their head out to beg for him to stop. He did, grinning brightly, “Enjoy dinner! Come on, Tango.”

Tango was quick to scramble onto the hand that was offered to him, his tail wrapping around Jimmy’s pinkie.

“Ay, Tango, was it?” The borrower called. He flinched away from the angry tone but glanced back, giving the borrower his attention. The borrower was sneering, lips curled, “Fuck you too, traitor! You let this bean turn you into a pet. You’re no better than a hamster–”

Jimmy beat his fist into the glass, “Shut it! Tango is my friend. You’re not going to speak to him that way.”

He pulled Tango to his chest, cupping him close and stomping right out and back to the house. The screen door once again slammed as he pushed his way inside, not bothering to stop in the living room where Grian and Joel were watching some trash show and throwing snacks at each other.

They were up the ladder into the low ceiling attic and he dropped himself onto his bed. Tango bounced on his chest, hands grabbing at Jimmy’s shirt to ground himself.

“Sorry about that,” Jimmy sighed, his hand pressing against his back, “That guy was way out of line.”

Tango sighed, “It’s… fine, Jimmy. He was just mad.”

“More like he’s got an attitude problem,” Jimmy grumbled, and his hand shifted so his thumb was rubbing up and down Tango’s back. The action calmed them both, each taking slow breaths, “You’re not my pet, Tango. You’re my Rancher buddy, always will be. Don’t let them get in your head. You’re better than that lot.”

“Right,” Tango replied, “Thanks, Rancher.”

“It’s no problem,” Jimmy chuckled. He pulled his phone out, opening up Youtube and scrolling through until he found a Minecraft video, “This look good, bud?”

Tango turned to look, laying back on Jimmy’s chest, “Yeah. I like this guy.”

Jimmy pressed play, and Tango tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind.

Don’t think about the shed. Don’t think about the borrowers. Focus on the video. Focus on the sound of the non-copyright music and Jimmy’s breath. Focus on the rising and lowering chest under him. Focus on this moment, and try to forget about the rest of it.

Tango wasn’t very good at controlling his thoughts. The video played and Tango’s head was elsewhere.

[arc852]

Ah! I'm so happy you liked my prompt! And you executed it amazingly! I love this! Gosh, it's so angsty and I just love all of Tango's conflicting thoughts. You can just tell he's so confused over actually liking Jimmy and being terrified of him and what he does. The fact that he tries so hard to seperate Jimmy into two people is just, gah, so good.

Love that you had Joel have Etho as well, since that was who I was thinking he would have when I came up with the prompt. He acted very Joel too, threatening to sell Etho and such, though I think we all know he wouldn't.

Man, this really does make me want to explore some evil, angsty dynamics myself...

You said evil Jimmy, bad boys, and only nice to Tango and my mind went crazy lol. And of course I had to make it Gt. So, what if, the bad boys run this underground black market thing where they capture and sell borrowers. But each bad boy has a borrower they keep with them. And Tango is Jimmy’s but he doesn’t know how to feel because Jimmy is genuinely nice to him and treats him like a person. But with every other borrower, Jimmy treats them the exact opposite.

They pulled into the drive-thru of the McDonald’s and Jimmy tilted his head down to glance at Tango, flicking his sunglasses up, “You want your usual, Rancher? Chicken nuggets with nether sauce?”

Tango grinned, his tail flicking “Yes, sir, Rancher buddy!”

Jimmy nodded and turned down the music as they reached the ordering screen. He ordered three Mcdouble combos, a twenty piece chicken nugget with ranch, barbeque and nether sauce.

On the way home Jimmy tapped the steering wheel along with the music and when one of Tango’s favorites came on he turned it up and they both sang along rather poorly. Tango loved these moments alone with Jimmy—it felt like an honest friendship.

And then they pulled into the driveway of the “Bad Boy Mansion”.

It was a small rancher home with two bedrooms the size of closets and the attic they diy-ed to be a third. Tango had lived in it’s walls for years, going through a few families before Jimmy, Grian, and Joel moved in. He was lucky to still be able to call the house home.

Joel’s voice pitched from the porch, just as irritated as he usually was, “What took you so long?”

“The line went around the building, ain’t nothing I could do!” Jimmy shouted back as he gathered the fast food and drinks into his arms. Then he looked down at Tango and at his full arms and sighed, “Shoot. Tango, climb up, would you?”

Tango bit the inside of his cheek to keep from whining as he climbed out of the cupholder and onto Jimmy’s lowered sleeve. From there he hoisted himself up to Jimmy’s shoulder and held onto the collar. Jimmy kicked the car door closed and headed for the house.

Tango looked towards the house to see Joel stood on the porch, eyes narrowed in their direction. “Would you stop letting him do that?”—he jabbed a finger in Tango’s direction—“Someone’s going to see him one of these days.”

“You’re just jealous because Etho would rather fling himself to the floor than ride your shoulder,” Jimmy replied, holding out the drink carrier for him to take, “Now help out, would you?”

Joel reluctantly took the drinks, if only to make sure Jimmy didn’t drop them. Inside the house they dropped the food on the kitchen table and started unpacking the bags.

Grian joined them, looking through the food, “Did you get your borrower an entire twenty piece chicken nugget?”

“No! The chicken nuggets are for all the borrowers,” Jimmy snapped. He scooped Tango off his shoulder and set him on the table.

Tango stumbled on his feet and backed up a few steps to give the humans plenty of room to unpack and set up their meals. Jimmy grabbed a single chicken nugget, cut it into chunks with a plastic knife and set it on a napkin with the opened nether sauce in front of Tango.

“We got a couple now, thought I’d get them some too,” Jimmy continued, setting the rest of the nuggets aside. “Also we ran out of bread.”

“You spoil them,” Grian teased, elbowing Jimmy.

“You spoil Tango,” Joel added, dropping down into a chair, “I mean no wonder he doesn’t try and run like ours. Jimmy’s gone and cut his food for him too, like he’s the blooming prince of fairies.”

Tango bit his tongue, knowing that if he said anything at all it would mean trouble.

“You think if I do that for Effo he’ll actually stop making escape attempts?” Joel asked.

Grian snorted, “Definitely not. Etho’s practically feral. Never seen a borrower throw themselves off a dresser until him.”

“I’m going to sell him,” Joel declared, taking a giant bite into his burger. Tango froze, not daring to look up at Joel.

“You don’t mean that,” Jimmy said.

“I do!” he replied around a full mouth, “His cool factor has worn off. Someone would pay loads for an albino borrower, I bet. I would have.”

Tango felt his heart drop into his stomach, nausea hitting him like a train. Joel wouldn’t– He couldn’t. Etho was Tango's friend. Etho was one of the last things he had connecting him to being a borrower. The next time he spoke to Etho he was going to have to beg him to start listening to Joel, as much as it killed them both, he couldn’t lose another friend.

“Well, you got a big pool to pick from right now if you want to switch him out for another,” Grian said, shrugging and picking at his own fries.

(That is, if Tango even had a chance to talk to him again at all.)

The Bad Boys finished their meals, Tango barely picking at his nugget, appetite long lost.

Jimmy was the one to gather the trash and shove it down into the trash can. He grabbed up the remaining chicken nuggets (Joel and Grian had nabbed a few themselves) and held out a hand for Tango, “Coming bud?”

Tango hesitated– he really didn’t want to, but staying in the kitchen meant Grian and Joel could get grabby. They wouldn’t hurt him, sure, but they made it abundantly clear they thought Jimmy was too soft with him. He’s been poked and prodded plenty of times between the two of them, tossed in the air more then once, and Joel once tried to hide him from Jimmy by shoving him in his own sock drawer. He didn’t want a repeat of any of that if he could manage it.

He stepped onto Jimmy’s hand and was promptly slipped into his jean-jacket pocket. He sat, grabbing a bit of pocket lint and pulling it apart bit by bit, unable to keep his hands still for the short ride.

Tango swayed and bounced as Jimmy turned out of the house, and he recognized the familiar creaking of the screen door and it slamming itself shut. His feet crunched in the unkempt backyard and Tango’s tail flicked as he heard the shed door open. He hated this fucking shed.

Jimmy’s hand reached for him, fingers wrapping around his middle. His stomach swooped as he was lifted and set down once again. Jimmy was already tearing the chicken nuggets into pieces as he steadied himself, humming a song that had gotten stuck in his head from the ride home and barely acknowledging the big fat elephant that sat in front of him.

The tank of borrowers.

It was set on a shelf, the wire top clamped down several times over. A heat lamp hung over it and one of those plastic hamster hides was pushed into a corner. It was lined with a towel that hadn’t been washed since it was set and the dirt stains from many little shoes were prominent. There were only two borrowers in sight, but Tango knew for a fact there were six in the tank. The Bad Boys’ latest haul. They got lucky catching the group crossing between backyards (and the Bad Boys weren’t above trespassing to get their hands on more borrowers. No one would notice a few mouse sized people missing).

Tango had been set down on the shelf, right next to the tank. One of the borrowers was staring at him and he gave a small wave— the stare immediately dropped into a glare and the borrower turned swiftly away from his direction. Tango’s tail tucked itself between his legs.

“Alright fellas,” Jimmy chirped, undoing the clamps and pushing the tank open with a clang. He set the box of torn up chicken inside, along with two open sauce packets, “Got some food for ya’s.”

“How long do you plan to keep us here?”

Tango’s head snapped back to the borrower. He was practically a half inch taller then Tango was, muscular and what looked to be old chemical burn scars all up his arm and over his face. Tango had seen some of the things he was carrying before Grian had tore them off his person and he had some pretty advanced borrower tech. He hasn’t heard a name from him yet and a part of him hopes he won’t.

Jimmy barely blinked at the question, already fitting the top back on, “Oh, just until we can secure a buyer, not long for some of your friends but you… Well, hard to find someone that wants pre-damaged goods.”

Tango hated the shed. Jimmy was different in here. Jimmy was cruel in here.

(Tango knew it wasn’t just the shed, as much as he wanted to pretend it was. He knew that Jimmy would and did act just the same to any borrower no matter where he was. He knew this was as much the real Jimmy as the one that sang songs and taught him how to read more than a few simple sentences and let him play with loose circuits boards. He was just always this Jimmy in the shed, and the shed had become his association with the worst of him.)

“You plan to turn us into pets?” The borrower growled. His voice was gruff, with some kind of thick accent. He wondered where he could have gotten it, or if he was somehow foreign—Most likely he grew up in a house with a bean with an accent, but it wasn’t impossible for borrowers to travel to other countries. That was dangerous, sure, but the guy looks like he’s gone through his fair share of danger.

“Uh, yeah,” Jimmy replied, a smirk creeping over his lips, “People pay a lot for a pet that can talk. Isn’t that nice? Usually something as insignificant as you would be considered a proper pest.”

“You’re not making a dime from us. We’ll get out. You don’t scare me,” The borrower said, his tail thrashing behind him.

“You’re able to escape this? Wow! Color me impressed!” Jimmy punctuated his statement by snapping the clamps back in place. Then he casually grabbed a brick off the ground and dropped it right on top of the lid. “Man, when we come back and you’ll be gone–? Just, know, I’ll be making this face–” He clapped his hands to his face, jaw dropped exaggeratedly.

“Fuck you, man! Fuck you!” The borrower shouted, kicking at the glass of the tank.

Jimmy laughed, retaliating by knocking repeatedly on the tank until one of the other borrowers, still tucked away in the hide, poked their head out to beg for him to stop. He did, grinning brightly, “Enjoy dinner! Come on, Tango.”

Tango was quick to scramble onto the hand that was offered to him, his tail wrapping around Jimmy’s pinkie.

“Ay, Tango, was it?” The borrower called. He flinched away from the angry tone but glanced back, giving the borrower his attention. The borrower was sneering, lips curled, “Fuck you too, traitor! You let this bean turn you into a pet. You’re no better than a hamster–”

Jimmy beat his fist into the glass, “Shut it! Tango is my friend. You’re not going to speak to him that way.”

He pulled Tango to his chest, cupping him close and stomping right out and back to the house. The screen door once again slammed as he pushed his way inside, not bothering to stop in the living room where Grian and Joel were watching some trash show and throwing snacks at each other.

They were up the ladder into the low ceiling attic and he dropped himself onto his bed. Tango bounced on his chest, hands grabbing at Jimmy’s shirt to ground himself.

“Sorry about that,” Jimmy sighed, his hand pressing against his back, “That guy was way out of line.”

Tango sighed, “It’s… fine, Jimmy. He was just mad.”

“More like he’s got an attitude problem,” Jimmy grumbled, and his hand shifted so his thumb was rubbing up and down Tango’s back. The action calmed them both, each taking slow breaths, “You’re not my pet, Tango. You’re my Rancher buddy, always will be. Don’t let them get in your head. You’re better than that lot.”

“Right,” Tango replied, “Thanks, Rancher.”

“It’s no problem,” Jimmy chuckled. He pulled his phone out, opening up Youtube and scrolling through until he found a Minecraft video, “This look good, bud?”

Tango turned to look, laying back on Jimmy’s chest, “Yeah. I like this guy.”

Jimmy pressed play, and Tango tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind.

Don’t think about the shed. Don’t think about the borrowers. Focus on the video. Focus on the sound of the non-copyright music and Jimmy’s breath. Focus on the rising and lowering chest under him. Focus on this moment, and try to forget about the rest of it.

Tango wasn’t very good at controlling his thoughts. The video played and Tango’s head was elsewhere.

[arc852]

Do you think at some point in the future (probably after g/t july, I'd assume?), you'll do the ask game again with picking a word and you finding a sentence in a future fic with that word in it?

Oh absolutely! I love doing the pick a word ask game! I'll actually probably end up doing that in June sometime so some gtjuly fics can be part of it!