WOOHOOO LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO WILBURRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
YOU DESERVE EVERY FUCKING FOLLOWER YOU'RE SO COOL!!!!!!!!!
And uh could you write a little blurb or headcanon or whatever about Veronica Sawyer (Heathers)? She's my favorite musical character ever! AND CONGRATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
thank you so much!! you’re so sweet :D
i hope you enjoy this, and have a wonderful day!!
you smiled as you walked over to your girlfriend, veronica. “holy shit. i can’t believe you actually did it.”
a small laugh fell from your lips, earning you a glare from veronica. despite how giddy you seemed over the whole thing, she didn’t quite share the feeling.
“are you actually happy about this? we just killed someone! i just- i just killed my best friend,” she said, collapsing onto the plush red chair in front of heather’s vanity.
you smiled even wider, “and your worst enemy.”
veronica waved dismissively. “same difference. what the hell are we gonna do?! i- i can’t go to prison! i just got into stanford!”
you walked over to her and placed your hands on her shoulders, sliding them down so you were hugging her from behind. even though she was still very much upset with you, you could feel her slightly relax into your embrace.
“everything will be fine, my love. i’ll take care of things. don’t you worry your pretty little head about this, alright?”
you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. sighing, veronica reached up to place her hands over yours.
“you’re talking like you’ve done this before,” she said, gently squeezing your hands.
“are you sure you wanna know?” you replied, smile never leaving your face.
when veronica didn’t respond, you walked around the chair to face her and pulled her up to her feet.
“go home, darling. i’ll clean up your little mess.”
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Little Raccoon Boy
Tommy stared at his older brother, trying to come to terms with the fact that this man wanted him, Tommy, to replicate some social media fanart and that he was related to him.
Wilbur, meanwhile, was looking at him with wide eyes, his mouth pushed into one of his long, closed-mouth smiles like he was posing for a sofa picture with a stranger, begging with his eyes to be let go. The longer Tommy stared at him, the wider Wilbur's eyes got.
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"Tommmmmy! Tommy!"
Wilbur's voice bounced off the kitchen walls, causing Tommy's ears to prick up. He chirped as he lifted his head from where he'd been curled up, sequestered under the kitchen table.
"Tommy, come here, please!"
Tommy heaved a sigh and dug himself out of his sort-of-illegal den of pillows and blankets. As he shifted, he sighed again and cracked his joints one by one. With each crack, he wondered if he could make 'no waking Tommy up from a nap' a new rule, like his oldest brother, Techno, has.
With one last crack of his back, Tommy strode towards the kitchen door and into the hall.
Wilbur's voice drifted out of the living room. "Tommmmmmmmy!"
"What, Wilbur?" Tommy stomped across and shoved the door open, letting it bounce against the doorstop.
Wilbur was slumped on the sofa, feet propped on one arm while his midback was held up by the other. His gaze was fixed on his phone, tilted away from the door so all Tommy could see was the rim around the phone and the glow cast on Wilbur's face and the gills visible on his neck.
"Wilburrrrr, what did you bloody well want?"
Wilbur jolted, then shook his head and blinked a couple of times. It was like watching a hypnotised man released from a trance. Tommy scuffed his foot against the carpet, giving Wilbur time to turn to Tommy, clicking his phone screen off.
"Oh, Tommy!"
Tommy blinked and shifted on his feet. "Yeah, hi."
"Hi, um..." Wilbur trailed off as his gaze drifted into the far corner.
Tommy raised an eyebrow and twisted his lips around, wiggling his fingers. He fixed his eyes on a glass of water next to Wilbur that looked fit for the taking; looking through it, the water was warping the bookshelves beyond, taking the carpet with it when Tommy stood on his tiptoes.
"Oh!"
Tommy's attention shot back to Wilbur, who'd moved into sitting up as he was trying to remember what he'd called Tommy for.
"Can you shift for a bit?"
"What?" Tommy's brain muted itself.
Wilbur twisted his finger together like he did when using hand cream. "Can you do me the biggest favour and shift into a raccoon for a bit?"
Tommy gritted his teeth as he shook his head around. He felt himself puffing out his chest and widening his shoulders as his heart amped up. "Wilbur, what the fuck? Why? I wouldn't ask you to turn into a fish or whatever, or to use your magic voice or whatever the fuck you call it--"
"--Siren song."
"Whatever!" Tommy scrunched his hands together, tiny claws starting to dig into his palms. "Why the fuck do you want me to shift for you?"
Wilbur had the decency to look sheepish, wringing his hands together and drawing his shoulders in as he tried to explain. "Well, I was scrolling on Twitter--"
Tommy growled. "--A shit pastime."
"Shut up and let me speak. I was scrolling on Twitter when I found this fanart, and it was of a guy with a little raccoon in his arms," Wilbur's voice began to pitch up, throwing his hands everywhere as he tried to justify the sheer degradation he was trying to rope Tommy into. "It was just so cute I wanted to try replicating it. So yeah."
Tommy stared at his older brother, trying to come to terms with the fact that this man wanted him, Tommy, to replicate some social media fanart and that he was related to him.
Wilbur, meanwhile, was looking at him with wide eyes, his mouth pushed into one of his long, closed-mouth smiles like he was posing for a sofa picture with a stranger, begging with his eyes to be let go. The longer Tommy stared at him, the wider Wilbur's eyes got.
Until Tommy sighed, dropping his shoulders. "Fine."
Wilbur's face broke into a grin as he jumped to his feet. "Yes!" He dragged Tommy into a hug. "Thank you, Tommy."
Tommy wriggled in his brother's arms for a second, then relaxed into them. "Alright, whatever. Although--" He pushed himself away from Wilbur. "—if we're gonna do this, I want that glass of water in return." Tommy pointed to the water on the side table.
Wilbur froze. His grin didn't quite falter, but his eyebrows scrunched together. "Tommy, I need that so my gills don't dry out."
"Wilbur, I need it. The water does the weird magnifying glass thing, and I want to move it about without having to be changing levels all the time."
Wilbur shook his head, his shoulders shaking in a way that made Tommy shake with them. "Okay, whatever, child, I can get myself another glass of water.--"
"I need that one too." Tommy fought to keep his mouth straight, pursing his lips.
Wilbur closed his eyes again. If Tommy hazarded a guess, he'd say Wilbur was doing that count-to-five thing he did when Tommy was 'being ridiculous'.
Then Wilbur's nostrils flared and he opened his eyes. "I'm not giving you all the water in the house."
Tommy pushed himself to lean back against Wilbur's arms. "Why not?"
"Because I'd like to have a drink. I have gills, Tommy. I'd rather they didn't dry out."
Tommy widened his eyes in the best approximation of puppy eyes, sticking his lip out slightly. "You wouldn't die for your little brother?"
Wilbur deadpanned. "No." And let Tommy go.
Tommy yelped as he fell backwards, landing on his back with a soft thump. His tailbone flared, and he arched upwards, clutching it.
"OOOOWWWWW!" Tommy's eyes squeezed shut. "What the fuck, Wilbur!"
Somewhere to his right, he heard Wilbur's snickering.
Tommy rolled over onto his hands and knees and opened his eyes. He then scuttled around to look at Wilbur.
He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching Tommy as he crawled around. "Are you okay?"
Tommy narrowed his eyes but pushed himself back onto his feet, rubbing his lower back. "I'm okay, I think. It'll just give me a big, black fucking bruise. Thanks a fucking lot."
Tommy wasn't lying. The flare in his tailbone had faded into a dull ache that Tommy was sure would bruise, but he didn't have his tail out at that moment, so it wasn't a problem.
"Okay, good. I'm not sorry for dropping you, though, you deserved it," Wilbur chirped as he left the room, calling back, "Wanna go do that photo?"
Tommy grumbled but followed, muttering, "Still can't believe you pulled me out of my den for this."
"What was that?" Wilbur shouted back from the hallway
"Nothing!"
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