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If you told Ranboo a week ago that he would be six inches tall today and using dental floss to scale furniture, he’d ask you what you’d been smoking and if he could get some.
Now though, he’s forcing himself not to look at the rug far below him by focusing entirely on his friend peering at him from the arm of the couch above.
“Go faster!” Dream calls, and Ranboo has half a mind to climb back up out of spite.
“You go faster!” he shouts back, ignoring the “that makes no sense” Dream responds with in favor of figuring out how to speed up his descent. Sure, it’d be smarter to go slow, but he and Dream had a plan to mess with the significantly larger human living in their flat.
Ranboo isn’t sure what gave Tommy the idea to squat in Ranboo’s and Dream’s shared living space, but it makes being tiny that much more fun. Especially when Dream manages to hide himself away in just the right spot to consistently dig a toothpick into Tommy’s thigh until groans in frustration and lays on the floor.
“Code red!” Dream shouts suddenly, and Ranboo yelps and loses his grip on the floss. His landing on the rug isn’t a soft one, and it leaves him feeling way too winded to move before their squatter catches sight of him.
Tommy stares, then lets out a booming “what the fuck?” that has Ranboo’s ears ringing. Is this how he dies? Before he could rally enough people to make a Resident Evil dating sim? Before he can woo Milo? Is this how it ends?
“Who’s fuckin doll?” Tommy says, encouraging the throbbing in Ranboo’s head and igniting a new wave of mourning over his own death.
“If this is where I die,” Ranboo starts, shoving his torso upwards until he can barely pass as sitting up, “I am going to make it known that I am no one’s doll and have full bodily autonomy.”
Ranboo hears Dream snicker from where he’s hiding in the couch cushions. If given the chance, Ranboo’s going to sell him out immediately.
“Oh my God the doll can talk, this is worse than Uncle Nasty, this is better than Uncle Nasty, what the fuck,” Tommy says, squatting low to the ground to marvel at Ranboo where he sits.
“I’m probably concussed, but I know I didn’t just hear you call me Uncle Nasty,” Ranboo says, craning his neck to attempt to look Tommy in the face. This is terrifying, why would the human race think giants are a good idea?
Tommy blinks at him, then screws his face up into something resembling irritation.
“No way man, you’re not nearly cool enough to be graced with a name like Uncle Nasty. Plus I’m not naming you unless you don’t got a name man, if you can talk you got a brain and shit right?”
Ranboo struggles for a moment to push himself to his feet, plush carpet making his footing unsteady. You’d think being tiny for a week would get him used to all of it, but no! Nope, Ranboo’s so much clumsier now than he was before.
“You just said that I’m better than Uncle Nasty,” Ranboo says, looking back up at the giant (normal human) crouching over him, “and I guess I have a brain? Hey Dream do you think shrinking would’ve removed our brain?”
Dream, who’d been attempting to drop carefully from the cushions to carpet and hide underneath the couch, startled and dropped at suddenly being addressed.
Serves him right for laughing. Roommate or not, Ranboo is not above ruining his friendships for vindication.
Tommy stares with wide eyes as Dream groans dramatically and doesn’t move from where he’s collapsed. Ranboo let’s him process the presence of two roughly six inch people living in the place he’s squatting in.
“Wait hang on,” Ranboo starts abruptly, an idea popping into his head that he is absolutely not running by Dream first. Not because Ranboo actually has some sort of vendetta against his roommate, mostly because Dream is being dramatic and Ranboo has decided to let him have his moment.
“What?” Tommy asks, brows all scrunched together as he stares at Ranboo.
“Why are you squatting here?” he asks, feeling a strain in his neck from looking so far up but ignoring the pain.
Tommy goes quiet, and Ranboo sees Dream turn his head to look at the giant in consideration.
“Yeah you’ve been here like two days, and as much as you talk to yourself we actually haven’t really heard the reason for that.”
“You’ve been here the entire time?” Tommy asks, dodging the question. Ranboo shrugs, giving his neck a break to look around for something to scale up.
“Yeah, we’ve been tiny for like a week,” Dream answers, swatting at Ranboo’s foot when he passes and earning light kick in the side.
“Don’t ask how, we don’t know either,” Ranboo says before Tommy can say anything, digging his fingers into the fabric of the couch and scaling it as quick as possible.
“Man that’s so fucked,” Tommy says, letting himself sit fully on the floor.
There’s a quiet moment, and then Tommy’s face screws up in rage and indignation as something clicks in his mind and Ranboo tenses.
“Wait a fucking second, are you guys the ones poking the shit out of me?”
“Dream did it—”
“It was Ranboo’s idea—”
Ranboo glowered at Dream over the edge of the couch, Dream sending a middle finger in his direction.
“Oh fuck you both!” Tommy shouts, not seeing either person flinch at the way his voice booms in their ears. He’s too busy standing himself up.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Ranboo shouts when the squatter moves towards the door, scrambling to get back onto the arm of the couch.
“What?” Tommy asks, turning towards Ranboo and narrowing his eyes.
“If you need a place to stay, you can stay here.”
“What?” Tommy asks.
“What?” Dream adds, and Ranboo sighs heavily.
“Look, neither of us can exactly pay rent being six inches tall, and until we get un-ittie bittie, we won’t be able to.”
“So we need a middle man,” Dream realizes, and Ranboo nods.
“Exactly! So, Tommy, You’re welcome to stay if you’ll be our middle man.”
Tommy blinks at the two of them, looking at the door, and then back at where Ranboo stood and where Dream was just joining him.
“You haven’t even told me your names, why the fuck— aw you know what? Fuck it, yeah sure,” Tommy relents, collapsing into the old recliner.
“Awesome! I’m Ranboo, and this is Dream, and we do not hate each other,” Ranboo says, grinning when Dream nods solemnly.
“We’re mortal enemies, hate’s too weak of a word.”
“You’re both fucking weird,” Tommy states, staring at the two of them.
Ranboo snorts, “yeah, and you’re living with us now while we use our tiny size to make your life difficult.”
Tommy’s face seems to sour at that, but Ranboo gets the feeling he’s not gonna care that much about it further down the line. Anyone who doesn’t immediately freak out over six inch people has gotta be used to seeing some weird things.