#well. he HAD both but then wilbur so very rudely took one

[loversj0y]

5 times wilbur helped you + 1 time you helped him

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: hypochondria + drinking alcohol + sickenss + death mentioned

note: this was so cute to write ee i love a good 5 things + 1! this fic is very cutesy too, a good strangers to neighbors to friends to best friends to lovers moment!

taglist! @l0veb0mb1ng

word count: 6.2k

one

The record store managed to be both small and incredibly overwhelming. It was a cozy place, with gorgeous dark blue walls, soft lighting, and big windows. You’d decided to stop here on your way home from work given that you’d been living in Brighton for nearly four months now and have barely gone anywhere but work and your apartment. It was about time you’d looked at expanding your music taste, so a record store was the perfect place to try and find something new. 

At least, you’d hoped it was. You’d been browsing the place for a good fifteen minutes, just completely mindless as you searched for anything that could pique your interest. A few customers had come and gone, and you could tell the shopkeeper was getting a bit annoyed by your presence. There was one other person in there with you, but the sun was starting to set, so you could imagine that the shopkeeper wanted to start closing. You looked around again, eyes scanning the title cards. 

The Front Bottoms. You’d only heard a few of their songs, so maybe it would be good to give them a listen, and at least this way, you could get back home before the sun finished setting. You went to grab the last record, deciding it would be better than going home with nothing. As you reached for it, your hand quickly came into contact with another person’s, and you pulled your hand back quickly. 

“Oh, sorry!” You heard, turning to look up at the only other person in there. He was tall, soft brown curls peeking out from a beige beanie that matched his sweater. He was really cute as well, a soft flush covering your cheeks as you looked up at his smile that honestly took your breath away. 

You spent a moment remembering how to respond like a normal person before you spoke up, “Oh, no, that’s my bad!” You smiled softly, “You can have it, if you’d like, I’ve never really listened to them much.”

“Are you sure?” He gave you a soft smile that honestly made your heart melt a bit. 

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure, go ahead!”

He grabbed the record, holding it for a moment before looking back at you, “If you’ve never really listened, can I ask why you were going for it? I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just curious.”

“Oh,” you looked away, red dusting your cheeks, “I’ve been trying to expand my music taste a bit, so I figured I’d just come to a record store to find something that might catch my eye.”

He thought for a moment, walking away while talking, “Well, if you’re looking for suggestions,” he sorted through a few slots before walking over with a record, holding it out for you, “this band is one of my favourites, they have a really unique style and their lyrics are fantastic.” 

You took the record, looking down at it. The front cover showed a pair of knees with blood going down one leg and a bed behind the legs. An interesting cover, to say the least. You turned to the back cover, which was more simple, detailing the tracklist with the band’s name up top. 

“Los Campesinos!? I’ve never heard of them.”

He lit up like a kid in a candy store just from you saying their name, “Yeah, I mean, they’re not as big as they used to be, but they’re really good.”

You looked down at the record in your hand once again, before looking back up to the excited but nervous grin on his face and nodding. “Alright, yeah. Thank you.”

He perked up even more, stuttering out his next words, “Cool, yeah, alright.” There was a faint blush on his cheeks as he moved to go check out. 

“I hope you enjoy it, really, it’s one of my absolute favorite records,” he gave you a gentle smile as he finished getting rung up by the shopkeeper. He looked like he wanted to ask you something, but before he could, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket, cursing softly. 

“I’ve got to run,” he sighed, smiling at you once more as he headed towards the door, “it was nice talking to you.”

You tried to ignore the fact that your mood faltered a bit at the knowledge that he would have to leave, even if you’d only been speaking for about five-odd minutes. “It was nice talking to you too. Thanks for the recommendation!” You smiled, giving him a slight wave as he walked out the door, before purchasing the record. With a frown, you realized that you never caught his name.                                            

two 

It was raining. It was cold, and it was raining. It was cold, raining, and your arms hurt. You had walked half a mile back to your apartment in the freezing rain with a box of your things because your boss decided that your last work wasn’t “suitable for the brands image” whatever that meant and fired you. You’d cried about it on the first half of the walk, stressed over having to potentially find a new job. But now you were just tired, the rain was seeping through your coat to your skin, and you could feel the cold in your bones which was entirely unpleasant when carrying a shitty cardboard box filled with the contents of your entire office. 

You managed to get into the building, thankfully your downstairs neighbor was kind enough to hold the door open for you when she’d seen you struggling to open the door. That wasn’t the hard part, though, no, the hard part was somehow trying to fish your keys from your pocket without dropping the box of things and then proceeding to unlock your door. 

You pushed the box between your door and chest, trying to use the tension in order to get the keys out of your pocket.

You quickly got distracted by the sound of a door behind you opening. You didn’t really know much about your neighbor across the hall. You’d never actually met him, since it appeared you and him had opposing schedules for the most part. You were always out by eight A.M. to walk to work, and you usually only returned around 6 P.M.. From what you could gather, he usually left sometime around noon and only returned later in the night, though sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d hear him get back as late as 2 A.M..

 Because of the distraction, you ended up dropping the keys right onto the ground. You tried to carefully manuveur your way into picking up the keys, but instead, you were met with the sound of crashing as the wet cardboard gave way and fell to the floor, scattering your belongings across the hallway.

You sighed, crouching down to start picking things up when you heard a voice from across the hall.

“Oh, here, let me,” your neighbor spoke, leaning down to grab a photo that had fallen in front of his door. 

You looked up, shock flooding you for a moment as you finally got a look at your neighbor.

“You’re that guy,” you smiled, and his head whipped up alarmingly fast, “from the record store.”

He relaxed when you finished your sentence, a soft smile coming onto his face as he held out the photo, “Yeah, uh, hi. You live across the hall?” You nodded as you took the photo, and he chuckled, “Well, that guess the world is funny like that.” He helped you clean up the things, placing them inside the box for you.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, no, I insist, trust me,” he gave you a warm smile, and you suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Thank you,” you spoke timidly

It didn’t take long before all of your things were recollected, and you carefully stood, unlocking your apartment door. You went to lean down to pick up the box, but your neighbor had already picked it up.

“I could bring it inside, if you want. It’s a bit heavy. Not- not that you can’t carry it, I- I just mean-” His nervous stuttering brought a laugh out of you, and he paused, face flushed as he looked up at you.

“It’s alright, I knew what you meant. That would be really nice, thank you,” you opened the door, holding it open for him as he carried the box in. 

“You can just place it anywhere on the counter,” you spoke, and he nodded, placing it on the countertop before processing the contents of the box.

He clearly knew what that box meant, but he didn’t ask about it. Maybe it was because of your red-rimmed eyes, or the fact that it was quite obvious that you weren’t having a good day, but he asked another question instead.

“How did you like the album?”

You shrugged off your wet coat, hanging it up before turning to him, a soft smile on your face, “It was a bit odd, but I really liked it.”

He lit up, “Really? Which one was your favorite?”

You thought for a moment, “I’d have to say A Heat Rash in the Shape of the Show Me State.”

If he lit up just from you saying you liked the album, he was set ablaze with happiness as you spoke, “God, that song is fantastic! It’s my favorite as well.”

You grinned, and after a moment, it occurred to you that you still didn’t know his name.

“Alright, so, things I know about you: you really like The Front Bottoms and Los Campesinos!, and your favorite song from Romance is Boring is A Heat Rash. Things I don’t know: your name,” you chuckled.

A blush returned to his cheeks, and he looked down sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking back up at you, “My name’s Wilbur.” You smiled, “Wilbur. It’s nice to know you and meet you, in that order. My name’s Y/N.” 

“Pleasure to meet you as well,” he gave you a bright smile, before humming softly, “Do you want some hot cocoa?” You laughed, tilting your head a bit, “What?”

“Well, I was gonna run by the shops to get some, so I was wondering, if you wanted, I could bring you some. I’d imagine it would be nice after getting caught in the rain.”

You looked up at him, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face, “Yeah, uh, thank you, Wilbur. That sounds lovely.”

three

Sometimes you think the universe had it out for you. It had only been about a month and a half since you’d gotten fired, and while you were able to start doing freelance work, that didn’t mean that things were looking up for you. Not at all. Because sometimes, when the stars aligned, they didn’t align positively. 

You got the text an hour ago. Your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — Jared, sent some short message detailing just why he couldn’t stand you anymore. How your “love” had died out and lost its spark and honestly you couldn’t care. He hadn’t done anything in months, you were the only one trying anymore. You’d just hoped maybe he would eventually try. 

Regardless, you found comfort in the night sky. The roof was supposed to be off limits, but you discovered pretty quickly upon moving in that they never actually locked the door. Still, you didn’t make it a habit to come up here, just in case. But on nights like this, where you couldn’t decide if you were relieved or distraught, the quiet night sky always helped you feel somewhat consoled. You put on a nice pair of headphones and listened to some quiet music, allowing the song to drown out the sounds of the city. 

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, taking a deep breath. 

When you went to look up at the stars again, you were instead met with the concerned look of Wilbur from above you. You startled, sitting up and pulling your headphones off. 

“Wilbur! Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me.”

You hadn’t seen Wilbur much since that day outside your door. He did eventually bring you the hot cocoa, and you had a nice chat but not much else after that. You saw him in passing sometimes, now that you weren’t working a 9-to-5 and could leave your apartment whenever you dictated, but you would only share a few words.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, a soft blush on his cheeks, “I didn’t mean to, I thought you’d heard me saying your name. Didn’t realise the headphones were soundproof.” 

You sat up, getting a better look at him. He had a pair of nice black pants on, as well as a large grey jumper. He also had a guitar across his back. You knew he played, you could hear soft strumming sometimes at night, but it was different to actually see him with it. He was also holding a half-empty bottle, and while you couldn’t see the label, you could tell it was probably vodka. 

“It’s alright,” you laughed lightly, “what are you doing out here anyways?”

“I could ask you the same,” he smiled, pulling the guitar off his back, “I come up here to play sometimes when my apartment feels too confining. You?”

You sighed, “I like staring at the stars when my head feels overwhelming. Makes it easier.”

He nodded, considering something for a moment, “Do you mind if I’m here as well? I won’t bother you, if you don’t want.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Might be nice to have some company, actually.” 

You gave him a soft smile, and he returned the gesture, sitting across from you. He pulled his guitar across his lap, starting to pluck out some gentle notes. You looked up at the sky while he played, and it felt nicer than when you had been alone. 

The only thing that brought you out of the peaceful energy was Wilbur pausing his playing to open the bottle and take a drink. You watched him curiously.

“Do you want some?” He asked, holding out the bottle, “It’s just vodka.” 

Any other night, you would’ve said no. Any other night, you couldn’t justify it. Tonight? Tonight, you could. 

You nodded and took the bottle, taking a swig. You cringed a bit from the taste, setting the bottle back down between you both. Wilbur’s company was nice. He played delicate melodies, and for the longest time, neither of you spoke. 

The alcohol softened you, made you lose a bit of your filter. You were curious about Wilbur, and a conversation sounded comforting. 

“You… said you come up here when your apartment gets too confining. What did you mean by that?” You drew your knees up to your chest as you asked him, giving him a curious look. 

His hands paused for a moment as you asked, but he continued to play softly as he went on to speak. 

“I’m not used to staying in one place for long. I haven’t lived here incredibly long, but sometimes I have to fight that urge to just pack up and go. Being in my apartment makes that feeling, that urge stronger. Being up here makes it feel easier, because I’m not stuck in some room. I’m just up here with the sky.” 

You nodded as he explained, humming softly in lieu of a response. He took your questioning as an opportunity himself. 

“You come up here when you’re overwhelmed. What’s on your mind?” 

A sigh escaped you before you spoke softly, “A lot. I’ve lived here nearly six months, and it’s been… weird. Moved here for a job that fired me. Haven’t made an actual friend yet. My now ex-boyfriend gave up on our relationship. Lots of little things stacking into a pile that is currently tipping over.”

He continued playing as he listened and for a while you wondered if he was going to respond at all. Eventually he did, but it wasn’t the response you’d expected.

“You have me.” 

“What?”

“I just- You said you haven’t made an actual friend yet,” he shrugged softly, “I’d say you have. Me.” 

It took a moment — and you could see the nerves rising in him as you processed his words — but a grin split across your face.

“Thanks, Wilbur.” 

He chuckled, and you could just barely spot the pink tint on his cheeks. “You make good company,” he reached for the bottle again, taking another sip as he spoke.

“So do you.” You drank a bit more as well, and the two of you fell back into comfortable silence.

You both stayed out there until the bottle was empty, chatting lightly every now and then, but mostly just staying quiet while Wilbur played soft tunes. When you went back downstairs to your respective apartments, Wilbur kept an arm wrapped around you to keep you from drunkenly stumbling your way down the stairs. It wasn’t stressful or anything, both of you muffling laughter to try and prevent any complaints. He walked you to your door, staying with you to make sure you got inside your apartment. 

Once you had the door open, you walked in, but turned and leaned against the doorway to talk with him for a moment. 

He smiled softly at you, speaking in hushed tones, “Have a good night, Y/N.”

You smiled back up at him, “You too, Wilbur.”

He turned and walked across the hall to his apartment, getting his door open. Before he could close the door behind him, you called out softly. 

“Hey, Wilbur?”

He turned, looking back at you curiously. 

“Thank you.”

His smile widened, eyes bright.

“Don’t worry about it. And if you ever need company again, don’t hesitate to ask, alright?”

You nodded, before walking into your apartment, and heading to bed feeling relieved and light despite everything that should’ve made you feel otherwise. 

four

If there was any way to describe you, it was stubborn. Hence why, despite the severe cold and fever you had, you were still working. You were working from home on some graphic design for a law firm, so it wasn’t particularly hard, but the fever was definitely impacting your ability to actually understand the task you were supposed to be working on. 

Despite most of your work being done from home, you still made it a habit to leave your apartment at least twice a week to stop you from going completely stir-crazy. You followed a routine. Once a week you’d go out to get groceries and a coffee, and the second day was up to you to figure out what to do. Wilbur made that easier. Your rooftop trips became a common habit, usually going up there once a week, sometimes with snacks or drinks, to just talk. In a matter of about two months, he quickly became your best friend, and even though it was getting cold outside, you’d always gladly jump at the opportunity to head up with him and just exist. It was also nice to have him living across the hall; it made living in a new city easier to have your closest friend mere steps away. 

It also made it easy for him to notice your routine. More importantly, it made it easier for him to notice when your routine was off. Like this week, when you decided to forgo going out for groceries, deciding that you’d just deal with what you had since you weren’t feeling well enough to actually leave your apartment. That was the first time he noticed something was wrong. 

The second time was when he texted you, asking if you wanted to go up to the roof that night. You replied, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was what the reply said. 

‘ m niur sure im nto feelkibt to o good’

Your phone buzzed with his reply, a series of question marks that you couldn’t honestly gather the strength to reply to. You tried, for sure, but your message was less legible than the first, so you didn’t bother sending it. Because of how close you two had gotten, you’d also swapped emergency keys. Primarily because one night you dropped your key on the way in and had to take temporary residence on his couch while you waited for your apartment’s office to open, so you could get a replacement made. 

When he got that text, it worried him even more. When you didn’t respond to his follow-up, it made him worry enough to go knock on your door. You didn’t even hear the knock, head foggy from a mixture of sickness and attempts to focus. That brought an entire other wave of concern to Wilbur, and he felt panic begin to bubble up in his chest. 

He pulled out your spare key, opening the door quickly and eyes scanning the room. 

“Y/N?” He called out, seeing you sitting on your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared helplessly at your laptop screen. 

You looked up, eyes taking a moment to focus. “Wilbur?” Your voice sounded weak, and your nose was clearly stuffed, “What are you doing here?” 

He relaxed when his eyes met yours, walking over to you. 

“I got worried. Your text was… less than readable. Plus, you didn’t answer when I knocked.” He looked over at your computer, “What are you doing?”

You groaned, tipping your head back. “Trying to work.”

“While sick?”

“I’m not that sick. Just a cold.”

He raised an eyebrow, walking closer and placing a hand on your forehead. “You definitely do not just have a cold. When’s your deadline?” 

“Next week,” you sighed, “But I want to figure it out sooner.” 

“And how’s that working for you?” He chuckled a bit, “If your text is anything to go off, I strongly doubt you’re doing your best work right now.” 

You huffed softly, closing your eyes for a moment, “Maybe I’ll take a break-“

“Nope! You’re done for today,” he hummed, happily picking up your laptop and moving it to the side table. 

“Will,” you whined out. Before you could even try to argue, you started coughing into your arm, gasping a bit for breath. 

He cringed a bit, but he gladly fought his own hypochondriatic thoughts to make sure you were alright. 

“Have you taken any medicine?” He hummed, walking over to your pantry and opening it. You’d be more baffled by his behaviour if it weren’t for the fact that raiding each other’s pantry was usually the first thing either of you did when you came over anyways. 

“Not since this morning.”

He nodded, grabbing something from the pantry. From your spot on the couch, you couldn’t see what he was grabbing, but he didn’t even give you a chance to look before walking over. 

“Go take a warm shower and put on comfy clothes, okay? You can take the medicine after. Sounds good?”

As stubborn as you were, it honestly sounded fucking fantastic. Maybe the sickness made you weaker, but you sighed, slowly standing. He reached his hands out, just in case you wobbled or fell. 

“Do you need help getting there?” He asked. Normally, someone asking that would make you want to kick them out and crawl into a hole to die, but with Wilbur, you sensed no malice or judgement in his tone, only genuine care and concern. Regardless, you shook your head, stabilising yourself enough to walk to your room. 

Your shower was quick, but the warm water did wonders. Your muscles felt immediately better, and your headache finally weakened just enough to make it feel relieving. Plus, you put on a big hoodie and some long pajama pants which helped you feel much more relaxed than the stiff clothing you’d been wearing before. You walked back out into your living room, seeing Wilbur standing at your stove. 

“Will? What are you doing?” You chuckled, walking over. 

He smiled, “I made soup. Go sit, it’s almost done.” “Did you make any for yourself?”

He faltered a bit, “Uh, no, I didn’t, why?”

You frowned, “Make yourself some too, please. I feel bad.”

“Will it mean you letting me take care of you?”

You nodded, and he sighed softly, a fond smile on his face. “Alright. Do you want to eat at the same time as me, or would you prefer now?” “Same time as you.”

“I should’ve guessed that,” he chuckled, “Okay. Just relax, put something on the TV. I’ll bring you the food and medicine once it’s done.”

You nodded, footsteps padding across the floor as you returned to the couch, this time curling up on your side, against the edge of the couch. You turned on some light music, knowing you wouldn’t have the energy to actually watch anything you could turn on. You closed your eyes, trying to relax as you fought off coughs and nausea waves.

You could hear Wilbur humming in the kitchen, and you smiled lightly. As stubborn as you were, it felt nice to have someone taking care of you. Especially since it was someone you trusted as much as Wilbur. You let yourself start to drift off as waves of exhaustion rolled over you.

You woke up from Wilbur gently shaking your shoulder.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but you need to eat,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to startle you awake. 

“Mm’kay,” you groaned out a bit, slowly sitting up. 

He helped you sit up, smiling and holding up the bowl. “Do you want to hold it or sit at the counter?”

You reached for the bowl, “If I move, I’ll probably cry,” you joked. He passed the bowl to you, and he sat down next to you with his own bowl. You started eating slowly, thankful that the soup wasn’t too hot. 

“This is really good,” you smiled softly at him, “thank you, Wilbur.”

He smiled, “you really don’t have to thank me. I want to take care of you.” 

You flushed lightly, looking down at your bowl and continuing to eat quietly. 

“Do you want me to put on a movie or something?” He asked softly.

You nodded, and he took the remote, putting on some random movie. It wasn’t long before you finished your soup, relieved at the feeling of having food in your stomach. Once he finished, he stood, taking both your bowl and his own to the kitchen. He walked back over with the medicine, holding it out for you.

You took the medicine easily, groaning at the taste. Wilbur was quick to hand you a glass of water before returning to the kitchen and cleaning up. When he got back, he sat next to you, placing a hand to your forehead.

“Your temperature feels better now.” He noted, letting his hand fall. 

You gently shifted, your head now leaning against his shoulder, “I still feel like shit.”

He chuckled, and an arm wrapped around you, causing you to lean into his warmth further, “The medicine should kick in soon. You should’ve told me sooner, and you shouldn’t have been working. It only makes it harder for your body to heal.” 

You groaned, “I thought I was fine. I never get sick like this.”

He hummed, gently rubbing your back and God, if it didn’t feel amazing, “You’ve been dealing with a lot lately. You need rest.” 

You sighed and nodded, “I know.”

“Just relax, alright?” he smiled, “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you’re better.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. You nodded before shifting and laying your head on his lap. “Is this okay?”

He nodded, a hand coming to gently thread through your hair, “Of course. You can sleep, if you’d like. I’ll be here.”

You smiled, eyes closing slowly. “Thank you, Wilbur,” you spoke softly, exhausting creeping into your bones and clear in your voice. 

“Don’t worry about it. I want you to be okay.”

You fell asleep quickly, a soft smile on your face. 

five

Things were starting to look up. Your freelance work was bringing in good money, and even better, you had a date tonight. However, it had been a long while since you’d gone on a date. So, you frankly had no clue what to wear. 

You took a quick shower, putting on a robe and blowdrying your hair. Once you were at least semi-presentable, you walked across the hall, knocking on Wilbur’s door. 

He opened the door quickly, a smile on his face, “Hey, what’s going on?” He chuckled softly.

You just smiled, “I have no clue what to wear. Can you help me pick?” He nodded, grabbing his keys and locking his door before following you to your apartment. 

“Just, sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.”

He sat down, smiling softly. Wilbur always looked good, and he happened to be cursed with either amazing or horrible fashion sense. Today was one of his amazing fashion sense days, a pair of nice jeans and a simple black button-up, plus a sweater over the top and the black Docs he always wore. He would definitely be able to help you choose. 

You walked into your closet, grabbing two options and walking back out to him, “Which one?”

He looked over the two options, thinking, “The black one. It’s a lot more date-night vibe, plus you’ve said that top makes you feel more confident.” 

You grinned, nodding quickly before going back to your room to change. You spent a bit more time getting ready, making sure your accessories were nice, fixing up your hair and your face a bit before taking a deep breath. You checked the time, only ten minutes until your date.

You walked back out, looking at him with a soft smile, “So? What do you think?”

He looked up from his phone, and a grin slowly spread across his face, “You look amazing. Seriously, you look absolutely fantastic.”

A flush spread across your cheeks, looking down a bit shyly, “Thank you, Wilbur. For your help, as well.”

He nodded, standing, “Of course. You know I’m always here if you need help,” he looked back down at his phone before he looked up at you, “So, you ready to go?” He grinned, holding his hand out towards you.

“I’m ready,” you smiled, taking his hand, “Where are we going, by the way?”

He chuckled, walking with you out the door, “It’s a surprise. It won’t be a long walk, though, don’t worry.” He smiled, and the two of you were off for your date. 

+1

Freelance work sometimes meant traveling. You hated being away from Wilbur, since you guys spent nearly every day seeing each other. However, there was a job a short flight away that was paying really well, so you took it and had spent four days on this trip. You were supposed to be there for a week, but you’d finished a lot faster than anticipated, so you were able to head home early. 

There was another reason you wanted to head home early too. Wilbur hadn’t responded to you in the past three days, aside from occasionally liking the messages you sent and sending the occasional heart. This wasn’t something new, there were days when Wilbur didn’t have the energy to leave his bed, let alone send a proper response. What worried you was that this was the first time you weren’t physically there to help him through it. So when you got the approval to head home early, you jumped at the opportunity and immediately booked your plane home. 

You stopped at your apartment first, dropping off your bags and changing into one of Wilbur’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants before walking over to his apartment. You unlocked his door, a normal thing for the two of you now, walking in slowly. There were takeout boxes cluttering the kitchen, along with empty and half-filled cups littered throughout the apartment. You walked over to his room.

The lights were off, but you could see the light from his phone on his bed. He was asleep, his phone left open on some random post he’d been scrolling on. You locked his phone and put it on the charger, leaning over and gently kissing his forehead. He didn’t react other than shifting a bit in his sleep. You looked over him quietly. There were bags under his eyes, so he clearly hadn’t been sleeping much, and you could tell from the pile of laundry that he hadn’t done much to take care of himself. You let him rest, returning to the living room to start cleaning up. 

You spent an hour throwing things away and taking out the trash, and after, you washed the dirty dishes and dried them, putting them all back in the specific place he’d always put them. You wiped down some of the surfaces as well, knowing how he got sometimes about germs. You went to his room next, picking up all the clothes from the floor and taking them to the washing machine. You organized his desk as well, moving cluttered papers and notes of song lyrics and stacking them into a nice pile. You had your back turned to him as you dusted his room a bit, and you heard his voice.

“Darling?” He spoke softly, voice a bit raw from lack of use.

You turned, walking over to him and smiling, “Hi, Will.” You leaned down, gently kissing him. 

He kissed you back lovingly, reaching a hand up to gently cup your cheek. When you’d pulled away, his thumb gently stroked over your cheek.

“What are you doing back already?”

You smiled softly, lightly brushing back some of his messy hair, “Finished the project early. Plus, I missed you.” 

He cracked a gentle smile, arms slowly coming and wrapping around you. You let him pull you into the bed, wrapping your arms around him as well. 

“I missed you too,” you murmured against your shoulder. 

You held him tightly, the both of you lying there quietly for a while.

“How are you feeling?” you asked softly, looking at him with concern. 

He looked ashamed for a moment, head falling a bit, “Not great.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He nodded after a while, taking a deep breath, “Just one of those times, I guess. I- I don’t really know what triggered it, I think my heartbeat was just a bit too fast the other night, and I was just so sure that this was it for me. And I just got so scared that I couldn’t do anything. It just ended up getting worse, and even if I don’t think I’m dying anymore, it just triggered a lot of bad thoughts, I guess. After a day, even standing felt exhausting. I felt paralyzed.” He sighed, and you gently kissed his forehead. 

“Well, you’re not dead. You’re right here with me. You’re okay,” you spoke softly, staring at him lovingly. It wasn’t often that his hypochondria overtook him so much, but you knew how hard it was when it did, even if you didn’t fully understand it. 

He nodded. “I know, I am. It just all got a bit overwhelming.” 

“That’s okay. It happens to all of us sometimes. You don’t have to feel bad for it, alright?”

He nodded, hugging you tighter. “Thank you,” he whispered out. 

You kissed the top of his head, “You don’t have to thank me, okay? I’m here for you, throughout everything.”

He squeezed you tighter for a second before relaxing, just holding you gently as he nodded. 

“How long have you been back?” He asked softly.

“A few hours,” you shrugged.

He frowned, “I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up.”

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize. Plus, I made good use of my time.”

He tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

You smiled, gently playing with his hair, “I just cleaned up a bit. I wanted you to rest, and I wanted you to wake up to a clean place. I know that mess stresses you out, and I didn’t want it to add to the bad feelings.”

He looked up at you, and he looked around the room after, processing the lack of clothes on the floor and trash. When he looked back at you, he had tears in his eyes, “thank you,” he whispered, biting his lip and holding you close again, “you’re the fucking best.”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t worry about it, really. I want to take care of you the same way you take care of me.” 

He sniffled a bit, and you pulled him forward while he cried into your shoulder for a moment. 

You let him cry as much as he needed to, rubbing his back. When he’d stopped crying, you pulled away, looking down at him. “When’s the last time you showered?” You asked softly, no judgement to be found anywhere in your tone. 

He thought for a moment, “Three days ago, I think. I don’t remember, if I’m being honest.”

You nodded, smiling softly, “Well, I just got off a plane, so I’m pretty gross myself. Let’s shower, and then we can change your sheets? And I can make us some dinner?”

He nodded as well, sitting up slowly, “Okay.”

You sat up with him, holding his hand the entire time, “Rooftop dinner tonight?”

He smiled, bringing your hand up to his mouth, kissing it gently, “Yeah. That sounds really nice.”

[grunge-innie]

_________________________________________

Guitars and Rain

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Genre:fluff(of course)

Pairings:Wilbur Soot x GN!reader

Pronouns:none

Summary:After a stressful day the only thing that can make it better is Wilbur Soot

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You couldn't believe it.You had a very stressful day at your job and after finnaly leaving that cursed building it started raining.It was late at night and there were almost no cars on the street.You were hiding under the nearest bus stop and waiting for rain to stop.You were thinking of forgetting about rain and to just start running towards your home.

All of a sudden you saw a familiar tall figure under the umbrella across the street.The figure seemed to spot you as well as it waved.After making sure there were no cars on the street Will crossed the street and walked towards you.

"Y/N what are you doing outside in this weather?"He asked.

"Oh,you know just wanted to catch a cold because I missed it so much."You remarked sarcastically.

"Wow someone's annoyed."

"I am sorry,it's just been a very stressful day."You said suddenly aware of how rude you sounded.

"It's fine,I understand."

After that there was an awkward silence as you both looked straight ahead of you.You see you've been crushing on your friend Will for quite some time.I mean how could you not.His curly brown hair and brown eyes,his sense of style and his personality-he was tottaly your type.Whenever you two spent time together you would always have the time of your life.

As you were too deep in your thoughts you didn't realize you started shivering,but Will did.

"Hey,you cold?"He asked turning towards you.

"I mean,yeah kind of."You answered rubbing your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up.

Will took of his beige trenchcoat and put it around your shoulders.

"Wanna go to my house to warm up?"He asked you retrieving his hands from your shoulders and placing them in his pockets.

"Sure but only when you take your coat back."You said worried about him getting a cold.

"No,you wear it,I mean i just left a pretty warm room and you've been outside for God knows how long."

You realized this made sense,and I mean you are not going to pass up on the opportunity to wear Wilbur's big and warm coat.

"Okay if you say so,but if you get sick it's not my fault because you insisted."

"Sure,darling"He remarked.You knew it was in teasing manner but the nickname gave you butterflies.

You got under Will's black umbrella and you held onto his arm with your arms,so the both of you could fit under the umbrella.

You two were walking towards his house when you suddenly realized something.Wilbur didn't live near here so you were questioning what he was doing in this part of town this late.

"Hey Will,If you don't mind me asking,what were you doing this late at night?"You asked him fearing that you were to nosey.

"I don't mind you asking,I was just in a studio recording something."Will answered.At this your lips stretched into a smile.You were always a fan of Wilbur's music.You were hoping that you could hear another one of his masterpieces.

"I could play it to you when we get to my place if you want"He said as he could read your mind.

"Of course you know I love your music."At that Will's smile got so big that it started to hurt his cheeks.He loved that you were always so proud of him and his hobbys.

Soon you two arrived in front of the door of Will's apartment.When you entered you felt so much warmer already.

"You can get comfortable I'll just make you some tea and then I'll be right with you."He said leaving his living room entering his kitchen.

You took of Will's coat and hanged it.After that you sat on the couch and waited for him to come.

Soon the tea was made and Wilbur entered living room with it in his hand.He left it at the table and then left again to get his guitar.When he got back he sat right next to you with the guitar in his hands and started playing.The tea that you were drinking was soon forgotten as you placed it on the table to put your whole attention to Will.

As he was playing this new song of his he sung it as well.You were so mesmerized by him.You were starring at him like he's your whole world and at this point you didn't care if you got caught.

Will realized you were starring at him and he started to do the same thing to you.The lyrics that he was singing soon got quieter and his voice softer as he started to lean in towards you.As he was singing the last line of the song your noses were touching.He lowered his guitar without moving his face or his gaze off of you and whispered:"Can I?"while staring at your lips.Your words seemed to be stuck in your throat as you just nodded.

At that Will leaned in fully and captured your lips.The kiss was slow and meaningfull.One of his hands was on your cheek while the other was holding you hand and rubbing circles into it.

You were slowly running out of oxygen so you slowly pulled away,yours and his eyes slowly opening.

"If you couldn't figure out from all of this,I like you."He said after you two fully pulled away.

"Yeah,I kind of figured out."You said leaning in wanting more of his kisses.After some time Will pulled away from that kiss.

"So you like me too,right?"He asked

"Of course I do dummy."You said and lowered your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his hands around you.You slowly felt yourself getting sleepier and the last thing you felt was a kiss on your head and his tightened hold on you.

Masterlist

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A/N:I know this ended almost the same as my Lee Know fic but I didn't know how to end it.My dms are always open so if you have any requests for dsmp or skz don't hesitate to dm me.Hope you enjoyed

AJ♡

[gracewritesdsmp]

May I request some cuddle hc with all people you write for? (or, whoever your faves are?) —🎶

Yes and yes :D

(If it’s not as good as you hoped, please tell me and I’ll rewrite:) )

Cuddling with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, Sapnap, George, and Karl.

TW’s: none (tell me if I’m missing something)

————————————

CC!Wilbur Soot

He was having a hard time finishing up some lyrics for a song

(He’s too hard on himself)

So you gotta remind him to take breaks and stuff

So you pull him away from his desk, and you both just lay on the floor

(because who wants to walk all the way home from the office?)

And your both pulling each other closer and closer

And he’s burying his face into your neck

And he’s very comfy even though you’re both on the floor

You kinda both fall asleep

But then you wake up to him typing really loud

He’d gotten up while you were asleep to work on his song, and was stressed again

So you had to start all over

But you wouldn’t have it any other way

CC!Tommyinnit

He was having troubles coming up with new video ideas

And he’s emailing other YouTubers seeing if they have any ideas, but he’s coming up with nothing

So when you come in to give him some water (he needs something other than coke) you see him with his head down in his desk

You come up behind him and put the water down, while also running a hand through his hair, waking him up

You bring him to bed because he’s obviously exhausted, and lay down next to him

You pull him close and hear his breathing level out, and then let yourself fall asleep too

CC!Tubbo

Tubbo was doing his subathon

And so far he’s about 40 hours in

You couldn’t be more proud of him, really, but you’re worried

He overworks himself so much

But he promised you that if it got past 50 hours he’d cut it off

The next day, at 50 hours in, like promised, he told his stream he’d finish it tomorrow, but he needed a good rest before he continue

He cuts off the stream, and goes to your room, and takes his spot on the bed

You, already laying down, got pulled back towards him, with your back facing him

Then you both fall asleep

CC!Ranboo

You were both already in bed together

But he said he needed to stream:(

You, of course, were sad because you didn’t want him to leave

So you held onto his hand while he was trying to get up

So he couldn’t get up, but you couldn’t fall asleep either

You eventually agreed on him streaming for 1 hour for 3 hours of cuddle time later

Then he left and you played on your phone until he got back 👍

CC!Sapnap

He was watching football, and you were sitting next to him reading

When he suddenly stood up and yelled at the TV

But when he did that, your book went flying

It landed across the room, and you lost your spot :’(

He said sorry and went and got the book for you, then he put it on the table

Then he changed the channel, so he’d calm down, came back to the couch, and wrapped his arms around you

So you leaned into him and watched the new show he put on with him

CC!George

George doesn’t show affection very well

Which is fine most days, but today was bad

The people you work with were all very rude, and when you tried to cheer them up they flat out ignored you

So when you got home you obviously wanted some cuddles from your boyfriend

You went to your shared room, and laid down next to him, expecting him to wrap his arms around you

But he didn’t

You looked up at him, and he was just staring at you

So you pulled yourself up to be level with him, took his arms and put them around you, gave his a kiss on the cheek, and then laid down again

(He was totally blushing but we don’t talk about that)

You both fell asleep. You, from being exhausted all day. And him, from being to embarrassed to be caught starring at you again

CC!Karl Jacobs

Karl 🥺🥺

He’s so cuddly, there’s literally a million different ways to write this prompt with him

But I’m gonna go with this one:

You were reading in your shared bed

And Karl was laying down, with his head in your lap

You were stroking his hair, playing with it, twirling it, whatever you felt like doing

You would only ever take your hand away from his hair if you had to turn the page in your book

But even then, he’d start wining

Saying stuff like:

"But I’m more important than the book!”

Which he is, obviously, but you had to turn the page??

Eventually the wining got so annoying, and disrupted your reading so much, that you quit trying

You saved your spot in your book, put it on the bedside table, and laid down

So that you were face-to-face with Karl

You pulled his arms around you, then put both hands in his hair

You both fell asleep soon after :)

————————————

I know I didn’t put dream or punz but I was getting repetitive 😭 I didn’t wanna keep writing the same thinggggg

Maybe I’ll write something for them later to make up for it!!

Anyways, I hope you liked it!! Please like, and follow if you haven’t already,because it motivates me!! :))

[lonely-lost-soul]

Of Immortality and Nymphs

(Philza Minecraft x Reader)

Request 2: Just c!philza simping over reader!!

Requested by: Anonymous 

(Okay maybe I got a little carried away with this one...) 

~~~

     He met her for the first time when he was a young man, who barely understood the world around him. Messing with things he shouldn’t was his specialty so when he heard there used to be Nymphs in the nearby forests, he just had to find out if they were extinct or not. Phil flipped through his worn journal and tapped his quill on the paper, he wanted to document his journey to finding the supposedly mythical creature. After all, this was one of his first real adventures all by himself he wouldn’t accept any form of defeat. He popped the cork off the invisibility potion he had and downed it with one swig. Phil, now hidden, wandered into the forest of the last known location, of the last recorded Nymph. Not being visible to the creatures in the forest allowed Phil to take in the beauty of nature around him, he could get close to the animals and see them in their natural habitat. The forest was beautiful, sunlight peeking in through the leaves of the trees, it was magical. He placed his hand on the trees running his hand over the bark with a smile, Phil heard a soft twinkling in his ear, and his head shot up. Always trigger happy he put his hand on his sword, in the middle of a nearby clearing stood a beautiful woman with gorgeous (h/c) hair. Flowers and leaves seemed to be interwoven within the strands, her ears were elf-like in appearance adorned with gold piercings. Her dress flowed in the wind, it was a soft almost translucent green decorated with leaves, in her hand was a baby chick. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, it was clear she was the Nymph that the old stories were talking about, thank god for the invisibility potion. 

Pulling out his journal once more he began to sketch a picture of the elegant woman, he didn’t want to forget her face. The man looked up once more to finish up the sketch and the Nymph was gone, he frowned sadly, he did hope he could get to talk to her. 

     “What’re you drawing?” Phil snapped his notebook shut letting out a startled yelp, he turned to look at the figure beside him. The potion must’ve worn off when he wasn’t looking, however beside him was said Nymph. His jaw almost dropped open, did she have no self-preservation? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She stepped a few steps back and he held out his arm to stop her. 

     “No! No, you’re alright!” He put his hand to his heart, “I’m Phil. and you are?” 

     “(Y/n). Are you human?” 

     “Tragically,” Phil gave her a little smile as she tilted her head curiously. “Are you a Nymph?” You looked a little hesitant, he watched as your ears twitched in an undeniably cute way. He felt himself melt a little as you gave a nod, 

     “A Meliae if you want to get specific,” you smiled fondly giving him a teasing wink. Opening his notebook again he scribbled that down next to the figure drawing of you, you sat down in front of him watching in awe, “Is that your language’s written system?” Looking back up at her curious expression Phil once again felt his heartbeat speed up in his chest. 

     “It is. You’re very clever,” He hummed and was delighted in the way you flushed up to the tips of your ears. You waved him off, 

     “I’m not that clever. When you’ve been around as long as I have you pick up on certain things,” He watched you carefully as you sat down beside him resting on your knees. Curiously Phil tilted his head,

     “How long have you been around?”

     “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?” She shot back a grin on her features, oh Phil was in love. Nymphs did tend to have that effect on people, people fall hard and fast for them, but Phil didn’t care. 

     “My apologies, that was rude of me huh?”

     “Very.” She teased with a snicker, “I’ve honestly lost count at this point.” 

     “You’ve lost track? So you’re immortal then?” Phil’s entire face lit up the excitement prevalent on his features, “Tell me everything.” He pleaded, with a soft laugh you began to share your tale with the man in front of you. Phil was enamored she had lived more lifetimes than he could begin to comprehend, what he wouldn’t do to have that gift. The duo talked long into the evening and well into the next morning, Phil knew he had to head home soon. Not that he had anyone waiting for him back home, but he couldn’t stay with her forever as much as he wanted to. “When can I see you again?” He whispered taking your hands within his own, he couldn’t help but notice how soft they were for someone living in a forest. You hesitantly pressed your finger to his earring, 

     “They’ll start to glow whenever I’m near. So you can always find me,” You whispered cupping his cheek in your hand, he felt himself lean into it. “I’ll see you soon Phil,” You leaned forward pressing a tender kiss to his lips before disappearing in a flurry of flowers and leaves. Phil let out a shaky breath bringing his fingers to his lips a wild smile appearing across them. He opened his journal one last time adding ‘great kissers’ to his list of things about the Nymph of the forest. 

They met many more times after that, and with each meeting, Phil only fell more and more in love with her. He wanted to protect you and keep you safe especially after telling him that Nymphs were hunted for their tears that give immortality but now without the expense of the Nymph. Yet even with his pleading, you wouldn’t leave the forest you called home. You told him maybe one day you could, but you were the only Nymph protecting the forest and you had to stay to protect your home. Ever the gentleman Phil would drop the conversation and steer it into another direction said direction ended with a lot of kissing. 

As the years flew by Phil found himself growing older and you remaining the same and as beautiful as ever, he wanted to be immortal with you. He never wanted to lose you, so he made a deal with the God of undying, sacrificing his three lives for one immortal life so he could remain by your side forever. He’d also have to give up part of his humanity, he was bestowed giant black crow-like wings. But he’d do anything so long as he got to be by your side for the rest of eternity. Phil didn’t want to tell you at first, afraid you’d be mad but it was hard to hide giant black wings and the man could never stay far away from you. When he finally saw you again you knew what went down practically immediately. Surprisingly you took it much better than he originally thought, you seemed to flattered beyond belief but also pissed as hell. Desperately you tried to explain to him that immortality wasn’t a gift but a curse, seeing the world change around you while you stay young forever wasn’t as fun as it sounded. The man scoffed, shooting back a comment of his own about how he didn’t want to imagine a world without you by his side. You didn’t deserve to lose someone you loved just because they were mortal and he stood by that.

He watched your face scrunch up, cheeks turning pink at his sentiment. Mostly because you were melting around his words and he knew it too by the smirk evident on his features. Phil locked eyes with you and smiled endearingly, 

     “I love you.” 

     “I’m pregnant.” 

     “Fucking what-” He choked on his spit any argument that started before fizzled out the minute you had told you said those two words to him. He felt his features morphed in surprise before wrapping you in a tight suffocating hug. That only solidified his choices, he made the right decision, he needed to stay by you and your child’s side so long as the universe allowed him to. 

However, things weren’t all peaches and rainbows as the world changed to a dark and dismal place once more. Forests were being burned and destroyed and humans once again discovered the existence of Nymphs and wanted to hunt them down for sport. Things were dangerous, way too dangerous for you and the newborn son you shared with Phil. Reluctantly you and Phil came to a decision, to protect your baby you needed to leave, it was the only way to keep them safe. You held the baby close to your chest, tears swelling in your eyes as Phil kissed your cheeks trying to shush you softly. “It’s alright…” His voice was gentle, his big hand caressing the boy’s chocolate brown curls. 

     “It’s not alright. Phil...I don’t wanna leave you or Wilbur.” Your voice quivered and Phil’s heart shattered in pieces, “But his safety comes first.” You brought the baby up to your lips and kissed his forehead, he giggled sweetly trying to squish his mother’s cheeks. You laughed as he did so, “My sweet, lovely boy. I’ll have to leave you for a while, I don’t want to but you need to be kept safe. I…” Phil frowned watching as you choked up once more, “I’m not safe.” Even through your tears, Phil thought you were beautiful, “You can’t tell him about me…” 

     “(Y/n) I can’t- That’s just not fair-” You shushed him with a kiss to his lips, passing Wilbur off to him. 

     “If he’s anything like his father he’ll lose his mind searching for his mother. He needs to live his life.” You reached up holding Phil’s chin on your pointer finger, “He has to live life to its fullest, Nothing can hold him back. It has to stay this way until I can come back. Which I will...hopefully it won’t be too long.” You smiled up at him and Phil took in a shaky breath, 

     “What if I ruin him.” His voice was painfully tight holding his grip on Wilbur tightening as well, it made the baby squirm. You shushed him softly, pressing a kiss to his lips, his scruff tickling your chin. To him the kisses always felt electric, never devoid of passion and adoration, he leaned forward to chase those addicting lips as you pulled away. 

     “You won’t ruin him, you’re the most gentle and kind man I’ve ever met. You took care of me all these years, you’ll be amazing for Wilby.” Phil watched as you kissed Wilbur one last time before stepping away with a shaky breath. “Just be as good to him as you are to me,” You both heard the crunch of leaves, it caused you to jump a little looking around the forest frantically. 

     “Go. We’ll be fine. Just stay safe and come back to us okay?” You could only nod at him before disappearing in a gust of leaves and flowers. Phil felt his heartache and he jolted as Wilbur began to cry seemingly already missing the presence of his mother. “Oh Wilbur hush, hush for me please,” His father pleaded as he began to rock him gently this was going to be a lot harder than he would ever anticipate, but to keep you safe he’d give up the entire world. 

~~~

Decades went by, Phil had not only Wilbur to watch over but three more idiotic kids, others adopted of course. Wilbur had grown up into a strapping young man, got married, and had a son, you would be so proud of him. You’d spoil Fundy rotten, he just knew you would, he was sure you’d also spoil Tommy and Tubbo. Not to mention you’d force your motherly affection all over Technoblade and he wouldn’t have a choice but to open up to you. 

However, none of them even knew you existed, lies were told about who Wilbur’s mother was when any of them asked and it killed him on the inside to lie about you. Eventually, Wilbur just stopped asking, most likely assuming something bad happened that Phil never wanted to discuss with him. Something far too painful to even tell his son about,

 Which was half right he supposed. 

It started like any other day, Tommy and Wilbur were messing around with Dream, something about discs and war that Phil didn’t particularly care about. Wilbur had come over once again to plead with Phil for aid in the war, but once again he refused him. This time he even brought Fundy along thinking that seeing his grandson might change the older man’s mind. However, he still refused knowing it wasn’t going to end well in the long run even if Wilbur did win. Sometimes kids had to make their own mistakes to learn about the future. It’s not like he hadn’t told Wil it wouldn’t end well, he did multiple times, but the kid was just as stubborn as he was and wasn’t going to back down. 

“Dad, please. If you’d just join in we’d slay Dream and his team, all the fighting will come to an end. The nation I’m trying to create would finally be free and safe. Just help me.” Wilbur pleaded, a small whine slipping into his voice as he followed Phil and his son into the forest, “We can establish our new nation and be free from tyranny. No more war, isn’t that what you keep advocating for?” Wilbur continued to rant, not helping at all with his chores, his voice grew soft suddenly, and Fundy grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket. 

     “What is it, kid?”

     “Your earring’s glowing pops.” Fundy pointed to his ear and Phil froze in place the wood that he collected falling out of his hands, scattering all over the forest floor.

     “Dad?” Wilbur repeated his voice growing louder in concern, Phil looked around the clearing frantically before bolting in a random direction. 

     “Grandpa!?” Fundy yelled chasing off after him, his tail puffing up anxiously, 

     “Fundy don’t just run off!” 

Phil didn’t stick around to hear them, you were around here somewhere the question was where. His heart was beating erratically in his chest, please, please god let him find you. He didn’t have to wait long, he’d recognize you anywhere you still looked the same. Standing in the middle of a flower field you looked over your shoulder, “(Y/n)! Darling!” He called out choking a little on his words, your (e/c) eyes blew wide and he heard you laugh. You ran up to him flowers growing in your wake, you launched himself at the man and he lifted you in his arms. He spun you around laughing in disbelief, using his wings you both floated in the air, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, “I can’t believe you’re here.” Phil whispered, pulling away to cup your cheeks with your hands, “you’re real.”

     “Of course I’m here silly goose. I told you I’d come back didn’t I?” You laughed fondly as he began to pepper your face in kisses, “Even if it is way later than I intended…” You trailed off with a small wince, 

     “Who cares. You’re here now and you’re safe.” He landed a kiss on your lips as you kissed him back. You tasted just as he remembered like fresh air and oranges, he wanted to swallow you whole. He never wanted to let you go again, and he never would if he had a say in the matter. 

      “Dad? What the fuck?” Wilbur blurted as Fundy and he came upon the clearing, you pulled away from Phil. Tears filling your eyes, your hands coming up to cover your mouth, Phil rested a hand on the small of your back. 

     “Wilby…” She whispered, stumbling towards the man reaching out towards him, he raised an eyebrow and flinched away from your touch. You pulled your hand back taking a little breath,

     “I’m sorry. How do you know my name?” From behind you, Phil flinched; he knew that’s what you wanted, for him not to remember you. But, fuck he felt guilty about it, he was about to feel even more guilty in a minute. 

     “She’s your mom Wilbur.” 

     “Fucking WHAT.” Wilbur sputtered taking a few steps back from the woman, “You told me my mom was a fridge!”

     “You told him what.” You turned towards Phil, eyes blazing with annoyance, he held his hands up in surrender. “Why would you tell him his mother was a fridge! I know I told you to lie but a fridge! Phil that’s not even physically possible!” You scolded the man crossing your arms over your chest, his face flushed a bright red. He even missed you yelling and scolding him, he was down bad. 

     “(Y/n) I panicked-” Phil started to explain and you cut him off with an eye roll. “I’m sorry okay, I love you.” 

Meanwhile, Wilbur and Fundy looked in between the two adults rapidly as they talked. Both equally shocked and at a loss for words, Wilbur took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. 

     “Please continue your explanation,” He commanded softly, “If you are my mom why did you leave? Why haven’t you been here?” Wilbur frowned as he watched you look away from him, 

     “How much do you know about Nymphs Wilbur?” Wilbur turned bright red and the color reached up onto the tips of his ears, “What?”

“My mom’s a Nymph.” Fundy spoke up in place of Wilbur, “her name’s Sally. I...I’m Wilbur’s son.” He watched your face melt and mouth a broken ‘son?’, Phil noticed and walked up to squeeze your hand. You had missed so much, you hoped you didn’t blame yourself, you and Phil lived too long to live with that many regrets. 

     “What happened to her?” You asked tenderly, 

     “Killed.” Wilbur said bluntly, “by hunters. Don’t worry, I made sure to dispose of them.” 

     “I-I’m so sorry.” You spoke and Wilbur couldn’t help but feel compelled into your arms. Something about you just made him want to melt into your body, he knew Phil was right in the end. You were his mother through and through, I mean the shared pointed ears said enough. 

     “Is that why you left?” Fundy asked walking over to stand beside Wilbur, Fundy’s ears pressing against his head. They both watched you nod and Phil tightened his grip on your arm, you took in another deep breath. His hand moved to wrap securely around your waist, he was here for you. He’d always be here for you.

     “When you were born, the hunters were far worse, there were much more of them. Greater numbers and they sniffed out Nymphs like hunting dogs to a rabbit. I couldn’t keep a newborn baby safe, especially one that was half Nymph...Which probably explains why Fundy’s part fox, he has more Nymph in him.” The fox hybrid seemed to light up at even the inclination that he was special in any way, shape, or form. “It was safer for me to be as far away from the both of you as possible, and I was right considering you grew up into a handsome young man with a family of his own.” You chuckled fondly leaning into Phil’s touch. “But I can understand if you don’t trust me or want to get to know me,” You smiled sadly at the man Fundy spoke up before Wilbur could. 

     “No! We want to get to know you grandma!” He blurted taking your hands in his own, you melted at the adorable way his eyes lit up. You glanced up at Wilbur who Phil totally wasn’t threatening with his eyes, 

     “I…” The man looked hesitant, but as he stared into your warm eyes once more he felt encapsulated within them. His longing for a motherly figure in his lips came back at full force and washed over him like a tidal wave. He had a mother and she was safe and here and willing to come back into his life if he was ready. 

Was he ready? Why did he feel ready?

     “Fuck that hesitance she’s grandma,” You let out a delighted laugh ruffling up Fundy’s hair, his tail wagging elatedly behind him. 

     “Don’t spoil him, love.”

     “Fuck you, I’m spoiling the hell out of my grandson. Gotta make it up to him somehow.” Fundy’s tail only wagged harder as he wrapped you in a tight hug, you hugged him back just as tightly. 

     “Hey, Hey move over champion. I get to hug my mom now.” Wilbur snapped defensively, as Fundy snickered only looking up at him mischievously hugging you tighter. You laughed in delight seeing Wilbur huff, Phil melted against you in relief. Wilbur’s face was scrunching up the exact way you do when you’re pissed, he smiled against the side of your head. Wilbur pushed his son to the side gently and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, he towered over you but couldn’t help but bury his face in your neck. You cooed softly and ran your fingers through his hair, he was gone the moment you did so, melting in your arms completely. 

Without you noticing Phil took a step away from the group just to admire the moment from an outsider’s perspective. For what felt like the hundredth time that hour Phil felt light, he felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders. Everything was right in the universe again, you were finally holding your not-so-little boy in your arms again after all these years. Even if you did have a fox hanging off you as well, Phil let out a soft chuckle looking at the three with adoration. A long time ago he gave up his mortality and humanity for you, after you left he had pleaded to the gods once more, he swore he would give up anything for just one more day with you by his side. They had ignored his wishes, they knew without a doubt you’d be back in his arms again, and this time he wouldn’t have to give up a single thing. 

~~~

Okay but actually I had so much fun writing this??? Maybe even a Pt. II?

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment. 

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly. 

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches. 

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.” 

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest. 

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement. 

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room. 

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up. 

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently. 

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric? 

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends. 

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back. 

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.” 

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school. 

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High. 

Cut all ties now. You have two days. 

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon. 

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her. 

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.” 

“It’s none of your business, Zara.” 

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders. 

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym. 

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle. 

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left. 

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand. 

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to  catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning. 

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door. 

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

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[thatonecoryosimp]

The Devil's Mercenary pt.3 Technoblade X reader

Hey y'all, this is part 3. Probably not the last part tho, I have some ideas for this story, but I would love some help on ideas for 4. This was wanted by the beautiful 🐍 anon. I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Cursing, suggestive.

Series Masterlist

Pt. 4

Do I regret agreeing to the deal? Yes and no. I would have never said yes if this wasn't to save my ass, but at the same time, I'm glad that he gave me this opportunity.

Technoblade and I started off the next morning, giving Wilbur some bullshit excuse about going to get resources. I guess it wasn't a complete lie, but it most definitely wasn't a full truth.

The walk to the portal was relatively quiet, but oh gods was it boring. He had insisted on a portal somewhere only he knew, it was ridiculous. Not to mention the clothes I had on were not something to wear into the Nether.

We made it to the border of a glade. The sight was almost breathtaking, it had rolling hills and beautiful flowers. There were spots of ponds dotting the grassy fields. Bees buzzed overhead, and bunny's hopped along through the narrow tree patches.

A smile tugged at my lips as I followed the blood god through the greenery. I was in a daze as the ocean appeared in front of us. The coral-filled water was clear and unfiltered. The breeze was fresh, untouched by the people on the server.

The waves crashed as Dolphins rushed above the water, swimming in small packs. Fish danced in schools as they swam. If you looked close enough in the beautifully decorated area, you could see the colors of an axolotl or two.

The sight was enough to distract me from my evident demise, but only until it was rudely interrupted by the man it would be caused by.

"We're here," he huffed out. I turned to him. He was stalking off along the edge of the beach, there was a tiny shack where the woods began. I started to follow him soon after, my feet sloshing in the sand as I listened to the life around me.

The building would certainly be a blink and you'll miss it, that is if it didn't have the ghostly noises ringing out from inside it. That in itself was enough to catch anyone's attention.

The door thudded open as Tech pushed it. The hinges squeaked, and the floorboards cried out in despair as the hulking man stepped onto them. The eerie sounds only got louder as I followed him in, and it sealed my fate as purple particles came into view.

Technoblade didn't seem to care that I had frozen behind him, that or he didn't notice, which I doubt. He sat the bag he was carrying down on an old chair that looked like it would give way any second.

"We have food, water, and weapons," he stated as he turned to me. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't you need armor?"

"Sweetheart, the day I need armor to go into the Nether is the day Tommy's voice stops cracking."

I slightly chuckled at that, it was nowhere near as close to the feeling of calm the water gave me, but it was something.

"Well, I guess we should just get it over with then." Tech nodded as he looked at me.

"You have a sword on you, right?" I patted my hip.

"Yup."

And that was that. He stepped in first, leaving me in the dark shack all on my own. I could run away now, leave everything behind, Wilbur, Tommy, Techno... this stupid bet... and... Dream. I sighed. I couldn't do that, I've already betrayed my friends, the least I could do is face karma as I should.

I made contact with the purple and a shiver shot down my spine. My feet rested on the obsidian below me as my body started to fade out of the world I knew. My eyes closed and a nauseous feeling fell over me.

I gasped, almost falling forward before catching myself. He stood before me as I leaned on the portal's edge. I will never get used to how that feels.

"There's a fortress right near here, it's only a little ways North."

I shook my head and stood up straight, my swords felt heavier than they ever had as I walked towards the brick building. My heart was hammering as my boots thumped. The Nether was cast in its usual red hue as we walked. The heat was close to unbearable, and my skin felt like it was melting.

The fortress was in a Soul Sand Valley. Of fucking course it was. He did say he needed a bunch of Wither skulls.

"We'll split up, that way we can get in and out, meet back here in an hour, if you're not here, I'll assume your dead and tell others as such, got it?"

I didn't really have the time to argue with him, nor did I feel like it. I just want to get this over with.

"Yeah, whatever."

Then he walked away. I started to make my way through the Nether Brick walls, there was a staircase leading downwards, that's probably my best bet. The clicks of my feet were very apparent as I walked downwards. My eyes caught onto the black bones of almost 6 skeletons. I unsheathed my swords from the belt and smirked. This was gonna be fun.

~~~~

It had been about forty-five minutes. I sighed heavily as I picked up the last skull I needed. I had a full stack, if that wasn't enough then I don't know how to please this man.

My body and clothes were covered in black dust, my hands hurt, and my swords needed to be cleaned. Thank the gods I knew which way was out, otherwise, I'd be completely screwed. The familiar stairs came into sight and I smiled. Finally.

I leaned against the wall where Technoblade told us to meet, my eyes shut and I finally had a chance to breathe. There was sweat dripping from my face, and my shirt was transparent as it hugged my skin.

My eyes shot open as I heard heavy footsteps making their way towards me. I unsheathed one sword and stood there. Eyes scanning along the area. Pink hair became visible and I relaxed.

Technoblade saw me and raised his eyebrows, "I really thought you'd be dead."

"Thanks for having faith in me," I grumbled with a roll of my eyes as I chucked the stack of skulls at him, "Let's just get the fuck out of here."

"Some mouth you have their sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," I stated flatly.

"You sure didn't have a problem with Dream calling you that."

"Well you're not Dream, are you? You're most certainly not attractive enough to be. Looking like some knock-off barbie doll with that hair."

"Oh, alright high and mighty. You think you're some spectacular view?"

"Oh come on, I'm sure you'd just love to fuck me against the wall, huh Blade?"

His eyes turned to slits, "I'm sure you'd enjoy that, y'know, since you seem to be such a cock hungry whore, to the point where you'd betray the people that took you in, helped you, loved you."

I huffed. That sad thing is... he was right. Not about him, of course. But about me, everything he said about me was true in some aspect. My eyes trailed to the floor and I embraced defeat.

"Let's just go."

I stormed out, making my way back to the portal. Technoblade followed close behind me. Eyes glued on my back. I was gonna kill him. One day, I'm going to shove my sword through his heart and watch the Blood God crumbled to his knees.

But that day wouldn't be today...

And that day would never come. Because unbeknownst to me, fate had another idea. One that didn't involve hate, or plunging a sword through his heart.

I stepped into the glowing portal and fell through into the overworld.

~~~~

"There's a shower in the other room, but the water won't stay warm for both of us, the plumbing is shit."

"Well ain't that just lovely," I looked around the room, it was getting dark out, which didn't make much sense, but time is weird in the Nether, "I guess we're staying here tonight?"

Tech nodded, "It's the smartest idea, it's a long walk back, and there's two beds."

Well, ain't this just great? A night with the Blood God. Just what I needed.

"What about the shower situation?" He looked at the door, which I could only guess was the bathroom, "We could shower at the same time."

My eyes widened, "Do you expect me to shower with some pervert?"

He rolled his eyes, "Do you wanna shower in the cold?" I shook my head. "Didn't think so."

"Couldn't one of us just shower in the morning?"

"It'll still be cold, it takes almost two days for the water to warm up, it's never been much of a problem since I don't come here too often."

I sighed, "Fine, just don't be lookin at me." He nodded.

I should have just died in that fortress.

~~~~

Not too sure how I feel about that, but it didn't end up too bad. As I said earlier, I would love some ideas for part 4. Love you babes <3

[plutos-planetarium]

c!sbi + reader; meeting + bonding? time !

in this, you're related to niki !

unedited

c: philza, wilbur, techno, tommy

meeting-

you met the boys through wil actually

wilbur came around your house a lot when you were growing up

though you didn't talk a whole whole lot, due to you being socially anxious, you still felt fairly close to wil :)

it took a while for you to meet everyone

wilbur had to babysit you for a few hours, n so he took you to his home

phil was the only person home that day

n due to his fatherly nature, you had gotten close to him quite quickly

wil got bored n left the room lmao

so you stayed with phil for a while

helping him make lunch before his other children came

about five minutes into your break, as you were sitting on the counter eating fruit snacks

tommy came in

very loudly too :/

he scared you and you almost fell lol

as soon as he turned the corner into the kitchen

"wot the fock"

after a few silent moments

he began screaming about how there was a stranger eating his fruit snack

though he sure as hell shut up when techno walked in

you were quite terrified at the moment

there was a child screeching at you and a very intimidating man behind him

and why were all these boys so tall??

anyway, after phil calmed down tommy

you n him brought the lunch into the living room

all of you ate in silence, besides wil and phil thanking you for doing food

bonding?-

philza:

since you only had niki and wil growing up, it was nice to have a real father figure to look up to

you often helped the man cook meal for the boys !

you had also managed to learn a few things about potions while watching him

and surprised him with a regen potion one day he cried a little bit

it was nice to have another person who had some common sence

philza quite enjoyed being around you

you were always very helpful, and eager to learn things

the two of you occasionally sat on the porch as he would tell you stories

there was one story, that you had asked him to re-tell you about a million times

it was about how him and kristin met

you always found the story so fascinating and got so excited when he would tell it

wilbur:

you and wil definitely got closer after a bit

staying in his room and watching him play his guitar

you helped him with his songs alot

you had eventually convinced him to teach you a bit

though he acted like he was annoyed, you could tell he enjoyed it

you also helped him with house chores !

which rarely ever got done because you were to busy dancing to the music and singing into broom handles

made him a guitar pick when his finally broke

his initials were carved into it so that "nobody could steal it since it has his name on it"

gave you the biggest hug :( /pos

being around wilbur is always just so fun

techno:

to say you were scared of him at first was an understatement

you were terrified

that was until you had seen him outside, reading a book near a tree

he looked so peaceful? how could he be scary what?

so you decided to join him

this became a recurring thing

not talking much unless you both were at that tree

he usually read to you while you picked up flowers and such

made him a pretty flower crown hndujsn

you also really liked carl!

helped techno groom him

he really enjoyed spending time w you

tommy:

well,,, it took a while for you and tommy to get along

he just didn't like you :/

rude ass bitch smh

but when he was finally okay with you

you helped him out a lot

whether it was creating chaos or going mining, you were there

mining was probably your favorite thing to do with tommy

it was quite relaxing actually

he didn't usually keep his loud persona around you

you both got excited over finding even the most basic ores

there was a time where you had fallen off the side of a short ravine

and i don't think tommy has ever panicked that much

thankfully, you weren't very hurt

but while you were recovering, he stayed with you alot

he was so worried when you fell, and just wants to make sure you'll be safe now

he also shares his fruit snacks w you :D

all:

movie nights were a very common thing

they almost always invited you and niki over

though niki couldn't attend very often, she always had you bring them something from the bakery

the boys all loved having you over

even though it usually added more chaos

"no! (y/n) put the bowl down"

"if you guys don't stop fighting i will take your fruit snacks away"

tommy was always the first person to fall asleep :/

and then get mad when the movie was over and he missed it

but he also got mad when you woke him up??

what do you want from us tommy, please

moving on

lots of food fights happened-

techno usually started them by throwing popcorn at wil-

mmmh yay now we'll have to spend 3 hours cleaning the house

phil, tech, n tommy are the ones who clean because, again, you and wil are dancing

it's always really nice having you over though

you and niki are like family to them :D

[ink-system]

Learn a Lesson

a/n: Titles(derogatory) Hope this isn’t too ooc for them this is my first mcyt fic ive written please be nice/lh

word count: 3155

tw: anxiety? 

“Oh, Ranbooooo!”

Said half enderman squeaked at the sound of Wilbur’s voice echoing throughout the house. He was so screwed, he was so screwed, he was so-

“Found ya!” the brunet popped up behind Ranboo, seemingly out of nowhere. The taller of the two shrieked and jumped away. 

“Uh- sorry I didn’t mean t-” before the half enderman could finish his apology Wilbur cut him off with a poke to his side. At the sudden contact he jumped away again and gently slapped his hand away. 

“Ah-! Sorry, I didn’t mean to do thAT-” 

At the start of another unnecessary apology, Wilbur once again poked his side. “What have I said about apologizing when you don’t need to, Ranboo?”

“...Not to-” he looked down at the ground, worried he actually made Wilbur upset.

WIlbur spoke in a very playful and teasy tone. He wanted to make it obvious he was joking, knowing that the other struggles a bit with discerning between serious and teasy at times. “Exactly, not to. So now I gotta teach you a lesson, Ranboo!”

Upon hearing Wilbur’s tone, Ranboo calmed down a bit. It always helped when someone’s intentions were made more clear to him. That still didn’t stop him getting slightly anxious from anticipation and stammering out apologies to WIlbur.

With each step that Wilbur took towards Ranboo, the latter’s apologies became more and more sprinkled with giggles. 

“Ranboo, Ranboo, Ranboo… how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t. Apologize. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you wanted this! Do you know what I’m gonna do, hmmm?”

The taller recognized that tone all too well, but still denied knowing “N-nohot really. Sorry-”

Wilbur gave Ranboo a pointed look before smirking slightly “Why are you giggling then? If you have absolutely no idea what I’m gonna do, why are you giggling from what I’m assuming is anticipation.” As the brunet spoke he took a few more steps closer to Ranboo, wiggling his fingers in his direction as he did so.

“Uhum- you look funny! W-wait I’m sorry that was rUDE-!”

The younger of the two squeaked as he got picked up and thrown over the older’s shoulder in order to be carried to another room. 

“Wilbur! Let me goooo,” Ranboo whined, not putting up any resistance despite his protesting words. Even though he could probably easily get away because of his height and Wilbur not keeping that tight of a grip on him, he just- didn’t move at all. 

“You know I can’t do that,” he said ‘solemnly’ before squeezing the younger’s knees. He relished in the way Ranboo squealed before lightly kicking his legs. He knows he’s supposed to be an evil ler at that point in time but the kid was far too adorable to make it easy for Wilbur to keep it up. 

After a few more moments of walking Wilbur reached his room and gently placed Ranboo onto the bed. As soon as Ranboo was lying on the bed Wilbur sat on his upper thighs, using his weight to pin the younger down as best as he could. 

With the knowledge that he was stuck until Wilbur decided to let him go, Ranboo’s anticipatory giggles increased in pitch. “Wihilbuhur! I’m sohorry- gehet off-!!”

Wilbur looked down at the other with a slight smile and wiggled his fingers again,  “Ranboooo, I’m gonna getcha! I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you!”

Upon hearing the brunet’s teases the half enderman’s face flushed which led to him covering his face. “Shuhut up-! W-wait I’m sorRY-!” he was once again cut off by Wilbur, this time from him poking the taller in the ribs. However, this time he didn’t stop after a single poke.   

“Okay, how about this? Everytime you apologize is another minute I get to tickle you, does that sound fair to you?”

“Whahat?! Noho! Thahat’s meheahan!”

“And you’re being mean to yourself, have we got a deal?”

Ranboo peaked between his fingers to look at Wilbur before quickly covering his eyes again. He was somewhat apprehensive about it, despite knowing that the older would never push him too far. “Uhum…” 

“Okay, wait, new deal. Every time you apologize is still a minute I get to tickle you, but you get to pick the spot. Does that sound better to you?” Despite the tickling being a ‘punishment’ for Ranboo apologizing too much, Wilbur didn’t want to make the other uncomfortable. 

The taller of the two’s genuine concern made Ranboo feel more at ease and calm. He shyly nodded, hands still covering his blushing face.

At the half enderman’s permission, Wilbur’s face lit up before he took on his ‘evil ler’ persona again. “You’re gonna regret giving me permission to do anything I want for… let’s say fifteen minutes. It’s gonna tickle tickle tickle so much.”

“S-stohop sahayihing thahat wohord!”

“What word? Tickle?”

The current lee whined through his laughter “Stohohohop!”

“Ranboo, I asked you a simple question. Should I stop saying tickle?”

“Yehes!” he peeked through his hands to look at Wilbur. 

“But it’s so much fun to say! It’s such a cute word too! C’mon Ranboo say it with me, tickle!”

Said male frantically shook his head in response to Wilbur. “Dohon’t wanna!”

“Oh and I almost forgot to ask! Ranboo, pick a spot!” This was actually one of Wilbur’s favorite things to do with Ranboo, even when he was ‘teaching him a lesson’. Ranboo loved it too, despite how flustering it was for him. 

Through his frantic giggles, he whined an answer out for Wilbur, the problem was that Wilbur was feeling particularly mean that day. He wanted a clear answer from the half enderman. Did he know he was being mean? Yes, absolutely. Did he think Ranboo’s reaction was too adorable to pass up? Also yes.

“Sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite catch it through all your adorable little giggles there.”

The younger one whined once again, “Stohop behihing meheahan!”

“Ranboo. Remember our agreement?”

The taller of the two pouted before once again muttering, “...sihides…”

“See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” he stopped lightly poking his ribs and instead began to squeeze his sides. Ranboo’s giggles grew a bit louder at the change in spots. 

“Ihit wahas vehery hahard!”

Wilbur continued to squeeze his sides, lightening his touch a bit. “Hmm, what a pity.”

At the feeling of the lighter squeezing the younger’s laughter once again increased in volume. Wilbur knew, and loved, that Ranboo was sensitive to lighter tickles. It tickled the taller of the two a considerable amount more than rougher tickles did and it caused him to let out some of the cutest giggles Wilbur had ever heard. 

“Wihill! Nohoho!” Ranboo kicked his legs out as much as he could under Wilbur’s weight. Which, being completely honest, wasn’t that much despite how long his legs are. Although, because of his height, he could’ve easily gotten away, which Wilbur pointed out. 

“Aww, Ranboo! You’re such a good lee for me! You’re barely even squirming, it’s adorable!” Upon hearing the cooing praises the enderman hybrid whined through his giggles, squirming from side to side more. 

“Nohoho! Wihihill, stohop behihing meheahan!,” Ranboo whined through his giggles, squirming once again, increasing a bit. 

“You know how to get me to stop, Genderman.”

Ranboo grumbled, half from Wilbur being mean and half from confusion. “Gehendehermahan?” 

The older of the two chuckled, “Yeah, Genderman. Anything wrong with that nickname?”

“Ihit’s weheird! Wahaihit, thahat wahas ruhude! Ihim sohorry-!”

WIlbur gave the other a sharp look, although it lost its impact from the soft smile on the brunet’s face. “Aww, c’mon Ranboo! That’s another minute of tickles for ya!” 

“Wahaihit, noho! Wihilbuhur! I dihidn’t meheahan ihit!” the enderman hybrid finally moved his hands from his face, instead going to grab at WIlbur’s hands. At Ranboo grabbing his hands, Wilbur gasped in fake offense. 

“You got another 13 minutes now, Ranboo! Now, pick another spot.”

The half enderman shook his head while giggling “Noho! Dohon’t wahanna!”

Wilbur chuckled quietly. “Ranboo, pick a spot or I will.” Upon hearing this, the younger of the two quickly shook his head and giggled louder. “Buhut thahat’s meheahan! Stohop beheihing meheahan!”

“Then pick a spot! C’mon you can do it Ranboo, I believe in you.”

The half enderman didn’t say anything for a few moments, instead grumbling through his giggles. Something about Wilbur being a bully. After a few moments he quietly giggled out, “Stohomahach?”

Wilbur almost died on the spot. How was this 8’5 half enderman so adorable? 

“Aww, the cutie wants tummy tickles?” the brunet cooed. Wilbur skittered his fingers all over the younger’s belly. Ranboo’s giggles increased in both volume and pitch, much to the delight of Wilbur. The enderman hybrid began actually squirming now, not because he really wanted to but because the sensations were more intense. 

“Wihilby! I cahan’t!”, Ranboo kicked his legs and shook his head, messing up his already messy hair even more. He had a grip on Wilbur’s hands but didn’t make any effort to push them away at all. 

The brunet’s heart melted at the nickname. He almost had to stop to regain his composure because of the adorable sight before him. Wilbur continued scribbling all over Ranboo’s stomach, although applying a bit more pressure. At the change in intensity Ranboo’s giggles turned to laughter. 

“Aww. isn’t that just adorable! A cute little lee that can’t even handle a few tummy tickles~!”

Ranboo’s blush brightened immensely at Wilbur’s teasing. “S-shuhut uhup! Dohon’t sahay thahat wohord!” 

Wilbur gasped in fake offense at Ranboo’s words. “Ranboo, you’re gonna regret that!” Wilbur began to slowly and lightly tracing a circle towards the half enderman’s navel. The closer the brunet got to his navel, the more frantic Ranboo’s giggles got. 

“Wihilby, dohon’t! Pleheahse!”, one of the taller’s worst spots was his navel, a fact that Wilbur knew very well. Despite Ranboo’s protests, his tail was wagging happily. 

“But you’re clearly enjoying this, Ranboo. You can’t lie to me, your tail will give you away!” At the mention of his tail Ranboo’s face flushed even more as he tried to hide the still wagging tail. “Noho, I’m nohot!”

Wilbur hummed in mock agreement, finger still spiraling towards Ranboo’s navel. After a few seconds it reached its intended destination. The brunet’s finger continuously swirled around the enderman hybrid’s navel. Ranboo’s laughter immediately turned hysterical as his squirming increased quite a bit, kicking his legs and squirming from side to side. 

“W-WIHILBUHUR! PLEHEAHASE! NAHAHA!” Ranboo shrieked, grabbing at Wilbur’s hand. This time the enderman hybrid did half heartedly push his hand away while arching his back into the tickles. 

“What’s wrong, Ranboo? Can’t handle the tickly tickly tickles on your belly button?” the brunet teased in a low voice. The younger’s laughter grew higher in pitch, blush spreading to his ears. “NAHAHA! SHUHUT UHUP!”, Ranboo cackled hysterically. “WAHAIHIT, I’M SOH-” the enderman hybrid cut off his own apology. As much as he was enjoying himself he didn’t want another minute of Wilbur being mean. 

Wilbur smiled at Ranboo not finishing his apology, “You’re learning! Looks like this is working, I might just have to do this more often!” The brunet moved from other’s navel to scribbling his nails across Ranboo’s stomach. The younger’s laughter grew a bit quieter at the slightly less intense spot. He stopped squirming as much, not grabbing at Wilbur’s hands anymore, instead once again covering his own face. 

Ranboo giggled something incoherent into his hands. “Mind repeating that?”, Wilbur questioned with a dark and teasing voice. “Yehes, I doho!” the half enderman shook his head. He didn't want to say it again, it was too embarrassing. 

"Oh? And why not? Do you perhaps need a bit of persuasion?", as he spoke, Wilbur once again slowly swirled his finger towards Ranboo’s navel. The younger's eyes widened as he peeked through his fingers at what Wilbur was doing. Ranboo frantically shook his head, giggling out protests. 

“Nohoho! Nohot agahaihin! Wihilby, dohon’t!”, the enderman hybrid withdrew his hands from his face to push at the brunet’s hand that was growing closer to Ranboo’s navel. 

“Better tell me what it is you said then, Ranlee,” Wilbur continued to spiral his finger towards the younger’s navel. His finger was getting faster as he went until he was skimming the very outside of Ranboo’s navel. The half enderman frantically giggled out, “Fihine! Fihihine, I’ll sahay! Juhust dohon’t!”

Wilbur stopped spiraling his finger around the younger’s navel, instead gently tracing along his stomach. Not enough to make Ranboo squirm or laugh, just enough for him to melt and giggle contently. “Well? What was it? I'm eagerly awaiting what you have to say.” The enderman hybrid continued holding onto Wilbur’s hands, fidgeting with the older’s fingers. Ranboo was looking off to the side to avoid looking the other in the eyes. 

“Uhum… cahan I hahave neheck nihibblehes…?” Ranboo slowly glances over to look at Wilbur, looking to see his reaction. 

The brunet was looking down at Ranboo with a wide smile adorning his face, looking very excited. “Aww, of course you can! Now, was that so hard?” Wilbur leaned down towards Ranboo’s neck, listening to the anticipatory, flustered giggles spilling past the younger’s lips. “Yehes, ihit wahas vehery hahard!”, the enderman hybrid was squirming even before the brunet did anything. Wilbur continued to slowly lower his head until it reached Ranboo’s neck. He gently nibbled the younger’s neck, paying attention to the younger’s giggles that were getting increasingly high pitched. 

The enderman hybrid instinctively scrunched his neck up like a turtle in a half hearted attempt to block out the tickly sensations. “Wihilbuhur! Noho!” Ranboo giggled out meaningless protests, batting at Wilbur’s head. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt at all, more like a kitten pawing at something. 

Despite it not hurting Wilbur at all, he still sat up with a faux offended gasp. “Ranboo! You hit me, and I was being nice ⁹too!” 

“I dihidn’t meheahan toho sohoRRY-” the enderman hybrid shrieked. Once again Wilbur cut Ranboo off mid apology, this time with a raspberry. The brunet knew exactly how weak the other was to raspberries, especially on his neck.  Ranboo scrunched his neck up and pushed at the older’s head. In response to the enderman hybrid’s attempt to push him away Wilbur blew another raspberry on the younger’s neck. 

Ranboo squealed before bursting into hysterical laughter, “NAHAHA! WIHILBY, NOHO!” He gripped the sheets in an effort to not hit Wilbur’s head again. 

The older finally had mercy, although not before blowing a few more raspberries on Ranboo’s neck, and sat back up. The enderman hybrid was still giggling from the tickly sensations still present. After a few moments of Ranboo still giggling, Wilbur looked down at the younger and asked, “Ranboo? Are you okay?” genuine concern lacing his voice. The younger continued to giggle for a few more seconds before nodding his head and giggling out a “Yeheah, I’m ohokahay.” 

Wilbur warmly smiled at the enderman hybrid before turning it into a teasing smirk. "Ranboo~ your time still isn't up. So you know what that means! Pick another spot!" 

The younger began giggling in anticipation once again. "Yohouhu choose," Ranboo giggled. He hid his face in his hands, not wanting to see the teasing look on Wilbur’s face. 

"Are you sure you want me to choose Ranboo?" The brunet asked with a teasing lilt in his voice. The enderman hybrid slowly nodded, giggling with anticipation. "Well then, I'll make sure to not disappoint."

Ranboo peeked through his fingers to see what the other was doing. He immediately tensed and began squirming upon seeing where Wilbur’s hands were placed. His hips. 

"W-wait- Wihilbuhur, noho! Nohot there!" 

"Aww, and why not? You said I should choose so I did! I made sure to choose your favorite spot!"

The younger's giggles increased in pitch "S-shuhut up! It's nohot my favorite!"

Wilbur gasped in fake offense "That was rude! Now I definitely gotta go after your hips. Hmmm… I wonder how I should tickle your hips. Maybe I should squeeze them, or maybe I should scribble my nails all over them! I know how much you love that. Or what if I just barely ghosted my wiggly fingers over your extremely ticklish hips until you were begging me to wreck you?" 

Ranboo whined, covering his blushing face. The older teasingly shook his head, "Don’t hide your cute face from me, Ranboo." The taller one shook his head and pressed his hands closer to his face instead. 

The brunet playfully and quietly growled before grabbing Ranboo's hands, pinning them above his head. The younger squeaked, giggles once again increasing in pitch. 

"Stohop being mehean and just do ihit already!" The enderman hybrid’s squirming increased. Wilbur gasped in fake offense, "Me? Mean? If I was mean would I do this?" 

Wilbur quickly let go of Ranboo’s arms and began squeezing the other's hips, relishing in the loud, happy cackles he got in return. 

Ranboo's squirming increased, bucking his hips in a vain (and half-hearted) effort to get Wilbur’s hands away from his hips. Ranboo gripped onto the other's hands and squeezed in order to give himself something to focus on besides the intense feeling of the tickles. 

"WIHILBUHUR! NAHAHA, GEHET AWAHAY!" Ranboo almost screamed in laughter. 

"Aww, now why would I do that? You could push me away if you really wanted to, but you aren't. I wonder why that is…" Wilbur looked at Ranboo with a knowing, teasing grin. 

Ranboo shut his eyes, shaking his head in a vain effort to block out the teasing. "YEHEAH, WOHONDEHER WHY!" He knew he could easily get away- he did have two feet of height on Wilbur- he just didn’t want to. Ranboo was enjoying himself, despite his protests that Wilbur could easily see through. 

As much as Wilbur (and Ranboo) was having fun he could tell the other was reaching his limit. Although the tickles were a ‘punishment’ he didn’t want to push Ranboo too far. Wilbur was sure the other had learned his lesson for now at the very least. He slowed his hands until he was barely moving them against Ranboo’s hips before eventually stopping altogether and withdrawing his hands.

As soon as Wilbur stopped, Ranboo was gasping for breath while continuing to giggle from the ghost tickles still present on his hips. 

“Ranboo, you okay? Need anything?” Wilbur immediately dropped his tough ler act, instead adopting a more caring, brotherly attitude. He gently ran his fingers through Ranboo’s hair in an effort to calm the other down, smiling when Ranboo completely melted at the physical affection. 

Ranboo slightly looked up at Wilbur shyly before muttering “Cuddles? Maybe?” 

Wilbur quietly awwed and whispered hushed praises at how well the other had done and how he was proud of him. At the praise, cuddles, and Wilbur gently playing with his hair Ranboo fell asleep feeling content and safe. 

[secretlyblue12]

Day 1: Chase

First day of DSMP tickletober! Very exciting. I haven’t written a tickle fic in a long time, so I’m a bit rusty, but hoping to do alright XD This one is of Tommy and Wilbur because it seemed fitting. There is a bit of teasing in it, but with Wilbur I feel as if that is a bit expected, I can’t think of any other warnings though. :)

“Oh, Tommy! You better be quicker than that, I’m right on your tail.”

Oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit. Tommy was screwed. Absolutely royally fucked, he thought, begging his legs to move faster. It wasn’t really his fault- well, okay, maybe he had been messing with Wilbur’s things while he was out, but he hadn’t meant to snap one of his guitar strings. And now Wilbur was going to kill him, he knew it, he could see the evil, mischievous, demonic glint in his eye when he glanced over his shoulder.

They had looped through the entire house twice by now, Phil would tell them off for making a mess but that was the last thing on his mind. That was an issue for later him, right now him was in the middle of a vicious battle fighting for his life.

He ran into the living room, circling around the couch and ending up with him on one end with Wil on the other. “You don’t have to do this Wilbur, think about the children. It’s not a big deal, I can- No!”

Tommy circled around to the other side when Wilbur launched towards him, reversing their positions.

“I am thinking about the children, one in particular who needs a proper punishment for breaking his big brother's things.” He said, jerking to one side to try to fake Tommy out, chuckling when the boy in question flinched and almost fell for it. “Tommy, this is your last chance to come here and I might go easy on you.”

That was a lie if Tommy ever heard one. “No you won’t! I might be stupid but I’m not an idiot. You’re just trying to make it easier on yourself, but I, Tommy the biggest man to ever- Wilbur!”

Honestly, that was quite rude, Tommy figured. He had been mid-speech, who tackles a man mid-speech? He didn’t have long to think about it though before he was squealing and squirming away.

“Whihilbuhur naha! Nohot fair,” He whined, desperately trying to push the hands away from his sides. “I didn’t mehean to! Stohop it.”

“Awee, you didn’t mean to? Well, I don’t mean this either then, or this, or this” He said, poking at a different spot every few seconds, smiling at how without fail Tommy would always jump at the new attack. “Oh, look! Your face is going all red. Are you blushing Tommy? Does a little tickle tickle tickling get Tom-Tom embarrassed? Oh, how sweet.”

Tommy felt his face get warmer at the teases. “SHUHut up! I aham not!” Fuck Wilbur, he decided. He was a twat and a no-good lousy mean bitch of a brother who didn’t know anything ever. Tommy shut his eyes so he didn’t have to see the pure joy on his face.

Wilbur leaned down close to coo in Tommy’s ear, delighting the how he squeaked and tucked his chin down in response. “You’re not? Well, it sure looks like you are to me, Tommy. Are you sure feeling my fingies wiggling over your tummy aren’t making you flustered? Oh, you’re giggling more now. Does me talking about it make it tickle more? But you’re so happy, look at that smile Tommy! How could I stop when it’s obvious you like this so much.”

Tommy shook his head, bumping his and Wil’s foreheads together.

“No? What are you saying no to? That you don’t like it? Does me talking about it not make it ten times more ticklish for you? If not then you won’t mind me keeping on then, surely. How about here, does here tickle more? Oh! Your laugh got all squeaky there,” Wilbur smiled at Tommy fondly, though he couldn’t see it with his face all scrunched up. “I remember you always had so many tickle spots, but every rib would get a different response out of you. Do you remember which ones got what types of responses? Look, I’m on the top ones now and your laugh is all squeaky, but if I move down a little bit, riiight here, yeah! See look- there it is. Makes you snort just like Tech.”

Tommy twisted and turned on his back while Wilbur dug his fingers in between his ribs. Mean! Mean, and rude, and horrible, and, and, and, well, Tommy couldn’t think of anything else at the moment. He was a little preoccupied. “Naha! Wihilbehy, Ihi don’t!” He protested, knowing damn well that he did. It wasn’t fair though, Wilbur had always loved it when Tommy laughed so hard he snorted, but Tommy hated it. That didn’t stop it from happening of course, but Wilbur didn’t need to bring it up! “Shuhut it you aharse.”

Wilbur gasped dramatically next to Tommy’s ear, making him jump. “Tommy,” He said in a half-whisper. “Did you just swear at me? Well that’s just unacceptable, isn’t it? Who taught you that?”

“Yohou dihid!”

“Me? Well, that can’t be true. I would never. Do you know what little liars get Tommy?”

Tommy peeked at Wilbur through his squinted eyes and giggled in anticipation as Wilbur’s fingers slowed to a stop. What was the man planning? Surely he wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy. “What?”

Wilbur didn’t say anything, and for a moment all Tommy could do was watch on in horror as he took a deep breath and quickly scooted down far enough to face plant into Tommy’s stomach through his shirt.

Tommy all but screamed before dissolving into a giggle fit. Not only was the fact Wilbur was giving him a raspberry bad enough on its own, but his shirt made the feeling spread throughout his entire body. He flailed, pushing and Wil’s shoulders and head, trying to get him anywhere else, but he didn’t have any force behind the movements. His entire body felt limp under the attack, and in the end, he just held onto Wilbur’s hair while he planted raspberry after raspberry all around his belly.

Wilbur didn’t stop until Tommy’s laugher had grown almost not existent other than gasps for breath, and his grip grew slack in his hair. “Okay, okay. I’m done now,” he promised, rubbing his hands up and down Tommy’s sides soothingly. “No more. I hope you learned your lesson though.”

Tommy shuffled until he could lean up against Wilbur and tucked himself into the olders chest. “Mhm, yeah, whatever. Don’t break your stuff.”

Wilbur let him get comfy, settling them both back. “Did me tickling you really make you that tired? I might have to do it more often then.”

Tommy felt his cheeks, which were only just starting to cool off, heat back up at the words and shoved his face into Wil’s neck. “Shut up.”

“That’s not a no then?”

“I hate you.”

“Be nice Tommy. I said that was all for now but if you keep this up I might have a new lesson to teach you.”

Tommy weighed his options, gluing himself to his brother's side. Okay, so he’d let Wilbur win this one, but he’d bring it back up later than night. For now, he had to nap.

[onecanonlife]

Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that's all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There's nothing deeper at work here. There's nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,040)

(first part) (second part) (fourth part)

--------------------

Part Three

She knocks twice before opening the door, and he barely has time to look up before she’s there. Slightly hesitant, perhaps, but the look on her face is one of resolve as she steps into the room, and nudges the door closed behind her.

It takes a second to find his voice. He can’t remember if she’s ever visited him here. Surely she has, at one point or another. Anyone is free to come find him whenever they choose. He makes himself available, or at least, as available as he can be. The door is never locked, and he is always here.

“Niki?” he asks. “Is something wrong?” He puts down his pen. He hadn’t actually been using it, had instead been twirling it between his fingers and staring off into space. He finds himself doing that incredibly often, and sometimes, he catches himself wondering if it’s worth getting out of bed at all, if that’s all he’s going to do with his time.

She smiles at him, then, but like so many of the smiles she’s directed towards him lately, it seems strained, thin, and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Not for me,” she says. “But I would like to talk to you for a little while, if that would be okay?”

She’s already reaching for a chair, one of the ones he keeps in here, set up so that he can carry out meetings across this desk. None of them are very comfortable, but before he can offer to find her a better one—there has to be one somewhere in this building—she is sitting, perching on the edge, crossing one leg over the other and resting her forearms on her thigh.

Anxiety is already rising. He doesn’t know why she’d come here, doesn’t know what she’d want to talk about, if nothing is wrong on her end of things. Not with that look on her face. Except, there was the whole thing yesterday, and he was very rude to all of them, so perhaps that’s the subject matter. He gave an apology, but it was rushed, and then he all but ran away. He wouldn’t blame her if she had a piece to say on that, little though he wants to discuss it.

So perhaps he should go ahead and get in on it.

“About yesterday—” he starts, but she’s saying the exact same thing, almost in unison, so he cuts off. But she does too, and for a second, they just stare at each other, neither sure how to proceed.

“Go on,” Niki says, after a moment, and he nods, somewhat tentative.

“Right. I just wanted to say, about yesterday, I really am sorry about that. I didn’t mean to lose my temper there. I was just feeling a bit stressed, ended up snapping. But I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything you did.”

Niki draws in a breath. He can see her steeling herself, visibly, and his trepidation grows; what could she possibly have to say to him that would take so much mental preparation?

“I accept your apology,” she says, “but, actually Wilbur, I wanted to apologize to you.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I pushed you yesterday, even when it was pretty obvious you weren’t feeling comfortable talking about it,” she says. “I think—I think we do need to talk about some things, and that’s why I’m here, but I shouldn’t have confronted you like I did. Especially in front of others, since it was a conversation that we had with just each other. So I’m very sorry about that.”

He isn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Some part of him feels a bit mollified, because it is true that he felt uncomfortable with the direction the conversation took. But at the same time, that doesn’t really excuse how he reacted to it. He could have handled it better. Should have handled it better, in fact.

“Oh,” he says, and scrambles for something else. Talking is his thing, is what he’s good at. He can’t just be saying oh to people. He needs a response. Needs to be well-spoken, eloquent, because that’s what is expected of him, and he has to fulfill expectations. “Well, that’s alright, then. You really don’t have anything you need to apologize for.”

She frowns. Why did that make her frown? What did he say?

“Okay,” she says, and that doesn’t help him figure it out at all. “Would you mind if we talked about something, though?”

He doesn’t know what else she would want to talk about. At least, not like this. Not coming to his office, expression serious, body language tense. Not saying this, that nothing is wrong with her—because if she doesn’t have a problem of some kind, he doesn’t know why she would be acting this way. Unless there’s another problem with him. Or she thinks there’s another problem with him. But—no, he’s been doing well, lately. Yesterday’s outburst aside, he’s made all of his recent meetings, he’s finished all the paperwork that urgently needed to be done, and he’s been meticulous about his appearance.

Mostly. His coat still hasn’t made it into the wash. But he’s done everything that he’s had the time and energy for, and he thought that it was all holding up.

“Of course,” he says. “What is it?”

She draws in another breath. That’s the second time, now, that she’s steadied herself in so obvious a fashion.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I’d really, really like it if you’d answer me truthfully,” she says, and he can feel his pulse quickening already. “Wil, are you alright?”

She puts a strange sort of emphasis on the final word. He’s not sure why. For a second, he’s lost, adrift, has no idea at all how to answer, because—because of course he’s alright. He’s fine. Just fine. He’s keeping his head above water, steering clear of the circling sharks, and that’s what’s most important. So why do the words linger in his mouth before he can force them out? Why does it take so much effort?

No. He needs to pull himself together.

“Yes,” he says. “Niki, I’m perfectly well.”

Her face crumples. He jolts, hand jerking forward, his instinct to comfort her, but his desk is in the way.

“Wil,” she says, voice soft. “You’re not sleeping.”

The way she says it, so frankly, so matter-of-fact, as if she knows, takes him aback.

“I—” he starts, but she’s already gone on.

“Your eyes are always bloodshot, and I know I joked about the bags under them, but—they’re really bad. Really dark. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but sometimes, when you walk, you kind of—sway, a little bit. Like you’re too tired to stay upright properly.”

He hasn’t noticed. He hasn’t—that can’t possibly be right, can it? Because it’s true, he’s not getting as much sleep as he would like, but it can’t be that bad. It’s not as if he never sleeps at all. So it can’t be that bad. Can’t be that noticeable. Niki has to be looking too hard, jumping at shadows that aren’t there, because the alternative is worse. Is unthinkable.

Because if what she’s saying is true, who else has seen?

“I sleep,” he refutes, but it sounds weak to his own ears. Meek. And Niki shakes her head.

“Not enough,” she says. “And—” She cuts off. And then, she reaches out for him. He watches as she closes her fingers around his wrist, feeling almost outside of himself. His head is buzzing. “Wil, you’re too skinny. I’m really worried that you’re not eating enough.”

He eats. He does. Maybe not a lot, since food has become increasingly hard to choke down—this morning, for instance, he tried, and almost threw it all back up on the spot. But he does eat. And it’s not like he wouldn’t, if he could. He just sort of—can’t. Not much, at any rate. But it’s not as though he doesn’t eat at all.

“I think you might be reading too much into things, there,” he says, and tries a smile. “I eat, I promise. How could I not, with you around?”

“You’ve been by twice in as many weeks,” Niki states. “And both times, you left in a hurry, before I could give you much of anything at all, because the conversation turned to something you didn’t want to talk about. No, you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” she adds, raising a finger at him. He leans back, away from it. “I’m not wrong. That’s why you left. Both times. And I—I really am sorry, Wil, if this isn’t something you want to talk about. If you don’t feel comfortable with it. I don’t want to hurt you, or pressure you, or anything like that. But I’m scared you’re hurting yourself.”

She’s—what.

Now that—that truly is a ludicrous idea. That is—

No. He wouldn’t do something like that. He wouldn’t—by itself, the risk of someone noticing is more than enough to dissuade him, though—he is self-aware enough to realize that if that’s his first reason for—abstaining, then that might not be a good sign. Of. Things. He’ll think about it later.

Or not. Or maybe never. This seems like a good thing to not think about, actually.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of,” Niki says, and he’s left it too long again. Too long without a reply. He keeps doing that, keeps getting lost in his own head. He needs to stay more present, needs to keep his head in the game. It’s just hard, when everything feels so far away, when he’s constantly thinking through a thick fog. “Not unless—not unless you are, but—”

She sounds like she might actually cry, at that, and that is enough to force him to focus.

“I’m not,” he says, and to his relief, his voice comes out firm, steady. “I swear to you, I’m not.”

“Okay,” she says. “That’s good. I’m—I’m really glad. But—you’re overworking yourself. You’re not sleeping or eating enough, and you’re always in here, and that’s—none of it’s good for you. None of it is healthy. And then, your hair—”

Annoyance bubbles up. Just a bit.

“Do we have to be on about that again?” he asks. “We’ve been through this. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know you don’t think it is,” she says. “But I’ve heard about things like this, Wil. It’s not that—it’s not that it looks bad, or anything like that. It’s just that hair doesn’t do that without a reason. Not when you’re twenty-four years old. That’s why I keep bringing it up. You’re stressed, even if you try to deny it.”

“And what if I am?” he asks. “It’s a stressful job. I’m running a nation here. But that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. It certainly doesn’t mean I’m not capable of doing my job.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Niki says. “Who—I know you’re capable. I never said that you weren’t.”

He may have overplayed his hand a bit, with that one. There’s a bit of confusion in her tone now, where there wasn’t before, stacked on top of an increasing amount of worry. He’s not doing very good work of assuaging her concerns. But even still, this conversation is bothering him, now. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep a straight face, and he brings his hands together, folding them on top of his desk. Her hand falls away from his wrist, and—it’s because he’s so tired, that he has to catch himself before he grabs it, moves it back to where it was. He’s not that needy.

“Then I’m not quite sure that I understand the point of this,” he says, and tries his best not to bite out the words. Just because his temper is on a short fuse doesn’t mean that he can take it out on Niki. She’s just trying to help him. “I am stressed, it’s true. But it’s not as if there’s anything to be done about that. And as I’ve been saying, it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

“The point is that you’re working yourself into the ground!” Niki says, her eyes flashing. “It doesn’t matter if you can handle it, it’s about whether you should!”

“And why shouldn’t I?” he snaps. “Aren’t I the president? Isn’t this my job?”

“Not if it costs you this much!” she snaps back.

And—she doesn’t mean it like that. He’s almost certain that she doesn’t mean it like that, doesn’t mean it like it came out, doesn’t mean she thinks he shouldn’t be president. The thing is, he would accept it, if that were the case. If his people banded together and decided that someone else would do a better job than him. If they thought he was no longer deserving of the position. He would accept it. He would step down, retire to private citizenship. He just doesn’t know what he would do afterward. Doesn’t know what he would do with himself, if the country he founded decided he was no longer good enough for them.

But of course, he has never been good enough. Not really. He’s hanging onto his pretense by bloody fingertips.

Has Niki realized it?

“It’s not worth it if this is what it does to you,” Niki continues, voice softer. “Nothing is. Nothing matters if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

He doesn’t—that’s not right. It can’t be right, because the country is more important. L’Manberg is more important, has been since the day they declared their independence, staked everything on a van and a dream. He started it, and so it is up to him to continue it, because the prosperity of his people must come first. His nation must come first.

What is he, in the face of that?

For a second, Niki goes blurry. He blinks, hard, and she comes back into focus, but his eyes are prickling. Stinging. His chest has gone tight, his breaths coming shorter, and he doesn’t want this. This can’t be happening now. He needs to—to shove it all away, down in a box, never to see the light of day. Only to be opened when he’s alone, in his quarters, safely ensconced where there is no one else to watch him break down. No one else to watch his shame.

He’s not doing this in front of Niki.

And yet, the sensation doesn’t subside, so he stands abruptly, surprising her, he thinks, and he walks to the window, shoving the curtains away and staring out over what he can see of the country from here. It’s not much; the window is not very big, but he can see the walls, the black and yellow ramparts. Standing tall, standing strong. This is why he does this, why he works so hard, why he refuses to show vulnerability. This is why. This is what he is protecting, what he must continue to protect, for as long as he is allowed.

His eyes sting again, the world wavering. There is a sob trapped behind his ribcage, clawing at him, trying to tear him open. He breathes, deeply, and doesn’t let it. Now is not the time, and here is not the place, and he will not lose his composure. He will not. Not over—and what is he reacting to in the first place? Niki’s words? He has no real reason for the tears welling up. He’s just weak. Emotionally. That’s what this is. And that’s why he can’t let it show.

Another deep breath. He pretends it doesn’t shake.

“Wil?” Niki asks. Behind him, now, and he doesn’t turn to look back at her.

“L’Manberg is worth everything,” he says. “You do understand that, right?” His voice doesn’t waver.

“I love L’Manberg,” Niki says. “We all love L’Manberg. But we don’t love it more than we love you.”

He winces, and he’s glad he’s turned away from her, glad she didn’t see.

Perhaps she believes that’s the truth. But it can’t possibly be. He could understand them loving him in connection to loving L’Manberg, this city, this nation, this wonderful place that they’ve built together, that he’s poured his sweat and blood and tears into. He and L’Manberg are irrevocably intertwined, and he could understand loving him, simply by virtue of loving the other. But separately? He hasn’t done anything. L’Manberg is his crowning achievement; besides that, what does he have to offer people? What reason? What virtue?

In a way, he is L’Manberg, and he cannot remove himself from it, no more than a bird can remove its own wings.

“Wil?” Niki says. Her voice has gone sharp. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he says, he lies, and—his voice breaks. Just a little bit. It would probably be unnoticeable, if the circumstances were any different. If Niki weren’t already paying so much attention to him, scrutinizing him, spotlight turned up to its maximum brightness. Like he’s on stage, and she’s in the audience, and he’s fumbled the line and she’s only noticed because she knows how the play is supposed to go.

Metaphors. Spiraling away from him. Just like this conversation.

“Wil,” Niki says again, more insistent. And closer. She’s stood up, stepped toward him. He still doesn’t turn, because the prickling has only gotten worse, and he’s scared to blink, lest that send the tears spilling over. If she looks at his face, she’ll see them. There’s no avoiding that. “Wil, please. Don’t lie to me.”

Ah. She knows.

He’s not sure why that’s the thing that breaks him. Why that’s the thing that pushes it all over into being too much.

The sob escapes.

Only partially; he tamps down on it on instinct, and his fist flies up to his mouth. Habit, that, to muffle his sounds. But that almost makes it worse, because the sob comes out sounding not quite like a sob, but instead more of a strangled whimper, bit off and weak, like the dying call of some small, hapless animal.

He doesn’t let another one out. He presses his fist against his lips, though he doesn’t part them, doesn’t bite down. But the damage has already been done, and then, Niki is there, right by his side, and he doesn’t dare to look directly at her, but he can imagine what expression she’s making. Some variation on the same one she’s had this whole time. Concern, deep and abiding and wholly undeserved, wholly unneeded.

“Hey,” she says. “Please talk to me. What is it? What can I do?”

His throat is too thick, too clogged. He has no hope of evening out his voice.

“You could go,” he manages, hoarse. Blunt, and he hopes she doesn’t mistake it as anger. He’s not angry. Not at her, at least. “I might need a moment?”

He didn’t mean for that to be a question. But Niki just steps closer, shaking her head.

“I’ll do anything other than that,” she says. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. Not if—oh, Wil.”

She has a good angle, now, to see his face fully. So the jig is up, and he knows there’s no hope of getting her to leave now. That’s how Niki is. Too kind. Too caring. And sure enough, she reaches out toward him in the next moment, and his usual reaction would be to flinch away, but instead, he just watches through obscured vision as her hand nears his face, and cups his cheek, tilting his head toward her.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers. Part of him wants to jerk away from the contact, and part of him wants to stay there forever. Or for a good, long time, at least. Just because it really is nice to be touched in a way that is not meant to harm him.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “It’s nothing.” But he can’t keep his eyes open any longer, so he blinks, and there go the first tears. Dripping down, out in the open, no disguising them. There are more sobs building up, but these, he forces down, keeps in his chest, out of his throat. Even if it makes his breathing unsteady, makes his chest jump and hitch every few seconds, it’s better than the alternative.

“It’s not nothing,” she says. “If it’s hurting you, then it’s not nothing. Please believe me.”

He can’t. He can’t do that. Not even for her sake.

“Is it what I said?” she asks. “I swear, I’m not angry with you. I just want to help.”

He shudders, and turns his face away from her. Her hand falls from him.

“Is it—is it that?” she asks, and oh, how he wishes she wouldn’t. “Why does that upset you?”

He—he can’t. He can’t answer that. He can’t talk about this. He can’t.

“If you would—if you would rather I go get someone else, I could do that,” Niki says, slowly, and he can tell that it pains her. He might be hurting her feelings, with this. He wishes he could explain that it’s not her in particular that he can’t trust with this. It’s everyone.

For a moment, he entertains taking her up on the offer, if only because she would have to leave to retrieve someone, which would give him time to escape his office and go—where? Where would he go? To his room, to scream into his pillow once again? A bit late for that. And the idea is foolish anyhow; she doesn’t need to leave at all, can just talk to someone on her communicator and stay with him until they arrive, and no, absolutely not. He doesn’t want that. As bad as this is, as shit as he feels right now, he doesn’t want anyone else to see. It’s bad enough that it’s Niki but—what if it were Tubbo, or Tommy? One of the people who looks up to him as an example and not just a friend or brother?

No. Bad enough that it’s Niki, but better her than someone else, and he’s done it again, has taken too long to respond because his brain refuses to think any faster than a slow, plodding pace, a trot rather than a gallop, and—

“Please don’t,” he says, and it comes out both whisper and plea. And then, because he has to try again, because he won’t be satisfied unless he does, he says, “Really, I just need—a moment. It happens sometimes, it’s fine, but if we could maybe pick this up later—”

“I’m not leaving you while you’re crying,” Niki says. “Please get that through your head.”

“But you should,” he says. He fights to get the words out past the lump in his throats, past the pressure that continues to build up. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. And I’m fine, because I can, I’m used to it. So if you’ll just give me a minute, I can—I can compose myself, and we can keep on.” He bites out each word, wary of letting something loose that he doesn’t want to, but that has the downside of airing his frustration again. He’s not trying to snap at her, he really isn’t, but better that than to dissolve into full-on crying. A few tears are manageable. He can get this back under control.

“Wilbur,” Niki says, “why on earth do you think you’re something that I have to deal with?”

He looks at her again, something in her tone compelling him. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright.

And this is not going to be the right answer, not going to be what she’s looking for, but he’s so worn out that he just—

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks.

“Oh,” Niki says. “Oh. No, Wil, no, that’s not right. You’re not—is this why you haven’t told anyone? Because you’re—oh, Prime, Wil. You’re not something I have to ‘deal’ with. You’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want you to be okay.” And before he can even begin to think of how to respond to that, she steps forward, and then her arms are around him, and she’s hugging him.

That’s when his knees decide to buckle.

“Oh, shit,” Niki says, but she guides them both down to the floor, so that they’re kneeling, kneeling and she’s still hugging him, still has her hands splayed on his back. “Okay, you’re okay. Are you with me, Wil?”

He intends to say yes. What comes out instead is a small, “Mhm.” Not even a word. And he’d be angry with himself, except all of a sudden, his chest is heaving, and the tears are coming quicker, and scrunching up his eyes doesn’t help, and it sort of hurts, now, to hold back the sobs that want to wrench out of him, hurts in his ribs. And he’s shaking, and despite all of that, he’s starting to feel cloudy again, distant from himself, and with that realization comes another: at this point, he’s lost control. His body has decided to shut down on him, and he doesn’t really have a say in the matter.

The sobs start coming out. Loud, broken things, like shards of glass twisted and half-melted until there’s no putting the pieces back together the same.

His mind feels detached. Impartial. Numb. So he no longer bothers to try and stop it. Just floats, a bystander within himself, as he has a complete break down on the floor of his office, with Niki holding him.

He’s not sure how long it takes for the tears to stop. He’s not counting. Not taking notice of much of anything, really. His body wears itself out, and he’s left there, slumped against her, like an empty shell.

She’s been talking to him this whole time, a stream of platitudes, comfort words, tumbling after one another, but now, she stops. For a moment, there is silence. He can hear himself breathing, rough and ragged.

“Hey,” Niki says. “Are you still here?”

He’s not sure how to answer that. He doesn’t feel very present, and frankly, he likes it that way, right this second. If he were feeling any more present, he’d be dealing with far more than he thinks he’s equipped for. But he is here physically, and he has enough presence of mind to respond to her, at least, even if it all feels so very far away, and he is so very tired.

He has been this tired all along, he thinks. This was a breaking point. Does it make him feel any better, that this was probably inevitable?

“Yeah,” he murmurs. His head is resting on her shoulder. He keeps it that way. It’s easier if he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“That’s good,” she says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Are you actually asking,” he mumbles, “or are you going to make me anyway?”

She sighs. That was the wrong thing to say. It’s harder for him to care.

“I don’t want to make you do anything,” she says. “That’s not why I’m here. If you really, really don’t want to talk about it, then—we don’t have to. But I think you need to. I think you’re hurting, and you’ve kept it to yourself, and I think that’s not a good thing.”

“‘S better than the alternative.”

“Okay,” she says. “What’s the alternative?”

Is he really going to do this? Is he going to tell her? Every instinct he has cries out against it, but the thing about that is that his instincts are rather dull at the moment. Easier to push aside. And his logical reasoning informs him that he’s already cried all over her, so really, he owes her an explanation at this point. Doing so might make everything worse, but if that’s the case, it’s no more than he deserves, for being unable to keep it together.

“Niki,” he says, “I’m a bad president.”

His voice is muffled by the fabric of her shirtsleeve. But he knows she understands him, because she stiffens.

“What makes you say that?” she asks.

“‘M not any good,” he tells her. “I’ve got all this work to do and I can barely do any of it. I don’t know what I’m doing at all. I’ve only been pretending this whole time, to know what I’m doing. I’m a shit leader.”

“You’re not,” Niki says, “but if you really think that, why didn’t you ask for help?”

He shakes his head, still holding his face on her shoulder. He doesn’t want to see her expression. “Can’t,” he says. “‘M supposed to be able to do it. I didn’t want you to know I’m a failure.”

Niki doesn’t respond. For a full three seconds, and he wonders if this is the part where she leaves. Finally. And then, she stops hugging him, and the part of him that is still awake enough to form coherent sentences thinks, yes, this is it, this is what you have sowed. Except then, she doesn’t leave at all, makes no move to get up, and instead grips him by the arms, and moves him backwards, so that she can stare him right in the face.

“Wilbur Soot,” she says, and she sounds more upset than he has ever heard her. “You are not a failure.”

“I am,” he says. Why is he trying so hard to get her to believe it? Maybe he just feels like he’s committed, now, to pulling the rug out. “I am.”

“You’re not,” she insists. “You made this nation. You took a drug van and turned it into a country where everyone is happy and free. Everyone looks up to you. We all love you.”

And there it is. The problem, in a nutshell.

“And what happens when you stop?” he murmurs.

Niki is completely silent, completely still. Staring at him.

“What happens when it turns out I’ve never been good enough?” he continues, voice weak. “What happens when the man you look up to lets you down? What happens when you know that all I am, in the end, is a pathetic shell who can barely get himself out of bed in the morning, much less make any of the moves that would lead to actual prosperity? What happens when you all learn that your president is shit at his job?” His voice strengthens as he goes on, rises to a more normal tone, fueled by his own disgust.

In a way, it’s freeing, finally saying all of this aloud. Whatever the consequences may be.

“What exactly,” Niki says, “have we done to make you think there’s anything you could do that would make us stop caring about you?”

She actually does sound a little bit angry, now. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her nostrils flared. He opens his mouth to respond, because the answer to that should be fairly obvious at this point, but she continues before he can.

“Do you really think we only love you because of—because you’re president? Or because you’ve made a country? We love this country because you made it, not the other way around. Why would you—Wil. Have you been thinking like this the whole time?”

Suddenly, he finds himself unable to respond. Paralyzed. Stricken dumb. Blinking, working his jaw. She shakes her head, tossing her hair, and—are those tears glittering in her eyes? Surely not.

It’s another second before she keeps talking. She was waiting on a response from him, he believes, but it’s one that he is incapable of giving.

“Oh,” she says. “You really do believe that.”

And the way she says it—he wants to cry again, for putting that pain in her voice. That expression on her face. Her hands are still on his shoulders, have not yet been pulled back, but suddenly, his skin is crawling, the contact too much.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he’s not sure exactly what he’s apologizing for. For his numerous inadequacies, maybe. For the fact that he’s not strong enough for this, and never has been. For the way he started this country and so foolishly believed that he would be able to lead it well, that he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the paperwork and struck with the desire to lie in bed all day and do absolutely nothing, a desire that’s harder and harder to fight. For the manner in which his body has betrayed him, time and time again, for his hair turning white and his inability to prevent his outbursts and the way that it shut down on him just now, let everything out in the most unbecoming method possible. For the fact that he was weak enough to let it all show, too weak to press on and get through it.

For hurting her, certainly. He never wanted to do that.

But then, to his surprise, she yanks him forward, swift and insistent, into another hug. His mind shouts in alarm, but his body, once again, has a different idea, and he finds himself slumping into her hold again.

“You are worth more than L’Manberg,” she says. “If this place went up in flames tomorrow, I’d be most concerned with making sure you were alive.”

No. No, she can’t just say that, can’t say it and mean it, because if she does—

“Stop,” he rasps.

“No,” she says. “We don’t love you because you made this nation, or because you’re the president. We love you because you’re our friend, and you’re our friend because you’re good and kind and clever and funny, and you’re you. Not because you’re good at making speeches or signing papers or building walls. You’re just you. I promise that’s enough, Wilbur.”

He shudders again. Full-bodied.

“I don’t believe you,” he admits. What’s one more mark against him, at this point? “I can’t.”

“Then let us help you so that you can,” she says. “Don’t shut us out.”

That’s another thing that he can’t answer. His mind is spinning. He doesn’t know what to believe. He wishes this whole thing hadn’t happened in the first place, wishes she hadn’t stepped in here at all. And yet, some part of him feels safe. Safer than he’s felt in a good long while. He’s not so stupid as to think that it’s not because she’s holding him.

“How about we start with this?” she says. Her voice has softened. “How about you take a nap, and then, when you wake up, we get you some food. Something nice and simple, like soup.”

That—is easier to comprehend. Physical needs. Needs that he’s not intentionally neglecting, but that he can’t seem to make himself take care of. He can—he can do that, especially if it makes Niki feel better, and he is tired. Exhausted. His eyes are drooping shut already, though he shouldn’t fall asleep on Niki. He should go—back to his room. To his bed. That’s where he should sleep. Except he’s almost never able to get good sleep, there, and he still feels safe. Right here, right now. Safe, and he can’t remember the last time that happened. Can’t hope to anticipate the next time it will.

“Alright,” he mumbles. Niki isn’t pushing him off yet. Maybe she’ll wait until he’s out.

There’s still a portion of himself screaming not to do this. Screaming that he just keeps digging himself a bigger hole. That with everything he continues to reveal, with every weakness he puts on display, he’s only going to make the inevitable fallout worse. Because there will be fallout, no matter what Niki says. Perhaps she is telling the truth. Perhaps. But she doesn’t speak for everyone else, and he doesn’t want—

But he’s so tired, in the end.

“Don’t let anyone else in?” he says. He’s unsure if the words come out understandable. He’s slipping. He’s letting himself.

“Just sleep, Wil,” she answers, and that’s the last thing he hears.

[condorclaw]

...so we could all use a little fluff after yesterday, right?

TW: description of a panic attack with referenced abuse. The scene is in bold if you want to skip over it, and is a small part of the story

-

Michael didn’t understand much about the world, especially since Snowchester was all he could remember.

What he did know was that there were both kind people, and people who were not so nice.

Michael’s dads knew what was best, he had realized. Many times Michael had been approached by strangers in his own room, with dadboo swooping in to clutch him to his chest protectively. Michael didn’t know what was so bad about some of these strangers, but in his dad’s arms, he felt protected, so he figured dadboo knew something he didn’t.

Dadboo wasn’t the only one in Michael’s life who he felt fully safe around. There was his other parent, dadbee. Dadbee wasn’t as tall or as strange as dadboo was, but dadbee would stand with dadboo, a weapon clutched in his hand whenever a stranger would invade the house. If Michael listened to Technoblade’s metaphors in the possible future, he’d look back on this time and compare his fathers to a sword and shield.

There was another important guardian in Michael’s life too: his uncle Tommy.

Tommy had hair that reminded the kid of gold, fangs that were as sharp as piglin tusks, and always some kind of mischievous glint in his eye. When Michael’s dads were away, Tommy came to watch over him, something Michael had grown to look forward to.

Ever since the two met, they had a strong connection, something that was cemented with Tommy knowing Michael’s native language, being able to communicate with him better. Tommy was also teaching it to his fathers too, dadbee getting good enough to ask Michael what he wanted for dinner, and being able to understand Michael’s answers, while dadboo was the best at giving one-word instructions.

His family was so cool, and Michael would tell Foolish Jr. about them whenever the little totem came over for a playdate. Just like Michael, Foolish Jr. had an uncle as well, but unlike Michael, Foolish Jr. had never seen his own, hearing that he had been taken somewhere secret. Michael felt sorry for his best friend, while also being happy that he had such an awesome uncle himself.

Tommy was even missing an eye like him! Michael didn’t know how he lost it, and whenever the piglin asked, Tommy would just mumble something in response about “green”, and saying that Michael could hear about it when he was older. Michael didn’t mind, it just made him feel closer to the blonde.

The world was confusing, and things didn’t make that much sense yet, but Michael knew that he always had dadboo, dadbee, and uncle Tommy by his side to protect him.

-

“You two have fun, okay?”

Michael watched as Tubbo tried forcing a large metallic object into his bag, even beginning to stomp down on it before Ranboo ran in frantically.

“Tubbo, we just need to check on the borders of Snowchester, we don’t need-”

“Nukes can come in handy, Ranboo!”

“HOW!?”

Tommy rolled his eye in mock exaggeration, glancing down at Michael, who turned his head to stare back. “Your dads are never getting out of here, guess I can’t babysit tonight.”

Michael stomped his hoof in frustration, letting out a loud snort of annoyance, which caught both of his dads’ attention.

“Tommy, what did you tell him?” Ranboo’s eyebrow raised in suspicion as his eyes gazed down at the huffy piglin.

“That the two of you are slower than the Eggpire’s “ultimate takeover”.” The pout on Tubbo’s face was enough to make Tommy burst into his signature laughter, the couple eventually joining in on enjoying the joke. Michael didn’t understand what was happening, but began to giggle in little snorts, not wanting to be left out.

“Okay, okay. I think we are taking a while,” Ranboo muttered, tilting his head to look down at Tubbo accusingly. The ram hybrid stared back, sticking out his tongue in mock aggression.

“Don’t you want to be safe? We could run into a pack of wolves and have to defend ourselves.”

“Tubbo, I think the nuke killing us is more likely to happen than being killed by mobs-”

Michael let out another frustrated cry, beginning to hop in place and slam his hooves down on the floorboards. Ranboo and Tubbo both looked at him, ears folding back sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Tubbo mumbled in piglin, rubbing the back of his neck. Ranboo nodded along with that, bending down to rub Michael’s head affectionately. “Okay, we get it. We’re going now. Have a good time, Michael.” Ranboo gently booped Michael’s snout with his own, standing up once the piglin squealed happily,

“Ranboooo, we have to make a stop at the warehouse,” Tubbo tugged on his husband’s jacket once the enderman stood.

“Tubbo, we’ll waste time-”

“Do you want the nuke to be left here with our son then?”

“...okay, w-”

“GOODBYE ALREADY!” Tommy let out a battle cry, shoving the two parents through the door and locking it behind them. Michael chirped happily, clapping his hooves at the amusing sight. Even inside, they could still hear Ranboo and Tubbo talking faintly. Uncle and nephew listened closely, waiting until the voices could no longer be heard.

“Okay, those two are gone now. We now have the whole night to ourselves.” Tommy turned, giving Michael a fanged grin. The piglin began jumping on the spot excitedly, flapping his stubby arms.

-

Tommy had been surprisingly good at managing Michael, even understanding how to keep him happy while making sure he was safe. The lack of a language barrier made everything a lot easier too, but even Tubbo and Ranboo were surprised at how well Tommy knew how to do a lot of household tasks that parents normally took over. The two of them had once come home to a spotless house, Tommy telling them that he needed to kill energy through cleaning after putting Michael to bed.

Currently, Tommy was preparing a bowl of steamed carrots for Michael, keeping an eye on the piglin playing on the floor while also focusing on the pot boiling. Michael’s favourite food was potatoes, but his parents had told him that Tommy didn’t really like those much, so he had to have something else. Michael’s next favourite was carrots, which was something Tommy did like too, and he always made them the way Michael liked.

On the floor, Michael was playing with his stuffed bee. It was a gift from his dadbee that Michael loved squeezing into, and it was even the size of the piglin himself. It was rather silly to see him clutching onto a giant bee, but it was also a very cute sight.

Michael pretended to attack the large plush, leaping into it at full speeds and rolling across the floor like he always did. Tommy chuckled at the sight, removing the pot from the stove and turning it off. “Be careful, little man. Tubbo’ll kill me if something happens to you.” He muttered light-heartedly.

Michael oinked in understanding, rolling his bee across the floor once more. Upon doing so however, a thread caught onto the edge of one of the floorboards, unravelling the bee slightly and exposing the stuffing. Michael stared at the plush toy quietly, his eye wide as tears started to spill from it.

Setting aside the carrots for draining, Tommy quickly turned around upon hearing a panicked squeal. He spotted Michael clutching the ripped bee close to his chest, sad little oinks escaping from him. Tommy slowly made his way over to his nephew, crouching down to see him better.

“Did Mr. Bee get hurt?” Michael nodded, oinking out what happened to his favourite toy. Tommy turned, glaring at the floor with a huff.

“How dare you fuckin’ hurt him. Mr. Bee never did anything to you, stupid pieces of wood.”

Michael giggled a little, tears still falling from his eyes. Tommy turned back to the piglin after “getting angry” at the floor, an understanding smile appearing on his face. “Michael, do you know where Tubbo keeps the rainbow string with the tiny stabby sticks?”

The piglin gave a curt nod, pointing to one of the chests along the walls. Tommy stood up, stretching his body before leaning down and gently picking up Michael. Michael was placed in his high chair, with Tommy bringing over the bowl of drained carrots. “You eat these, okay? I’ll have the coolest surprise for you when you’re done.”

Michael’s eye widened again and he quickly began to gulp down his food, Mr. Bee forgotten for now. Tommy let out a panicked laugh, quickly taking the bowl from Michael and stared at his nephew eye-to-eye. “You only get the surprise if you eat slowly, okay? It’s not safe to eat that fast.”

Michael frowned, folding his arms and muttering something.

“Woah, and where did YOU hear that word from?”

Another snort.

“...okay, I’ll admit that I did say that.”

Michael’s lip curled in in satisfaction as he stuck his tongue out at his uncle, Tommy placing his hand to his chest and gasping dramatically. “Wow, you’re so fuckin’ rude. I can’t believe you’d do this to your own flesh and blood.”

Michael pointed to the right side of his head.

“...flesh and bone. Stop being so sassy tonight.”

Another stuck-out tongue.

-

As Michael began to eat, Tommy looked through the chest his nephew had been pointing to, finding the needles and threat he had been looking for. The blonde gave a fist pump in quiet celebration, heading back to where Michael had left the stuffed bee behind. He sat down and picked up the plush, surprised at how light it was. With his materials there, Tommy began to sew up the toy.

Wilbur had taught him how to sew during the Pogtopia days, when Tommy's clothes kept getting torn due to running from the Manberg guards. Wilbur eventually became far too busy to teach Tommy more, which was when Niki stepped in to continue teaching Tommy, and started teaching Tubbo as well.

Tommy didn't have the best childhood. Actually, that was an understatement. Tommy had one of the worst childhoods possible, with the constant threat of war and death looming over his head as he charged into battle with his family and friends. It was the worst experience Tommy could have ever gotten, and even though the wars were over, there were still the rising threats of new ones. Ones that he'd probably be forced to participate in.

But for now, everything was okay, and that's all Tommy wanted.

Michael was a bright young lad, appearing to adopt similar mannerisms to Tommy's own. While he'd never say it to anybody, Tommy was incredibly fond of his nephew. Michael had a loving family, and a wonderful home to live in. He didn't have to care about wars, or being exiled, or being imprisoned, or-

Tommy felt his heart rate drop for a moment, accidently pricking himself with the needle he was sewing with. "Shit," he muttered, quickly shaking his hand to alleviate the sting.

Michael looked over at him, hearing the curse. His ears were perked up and he oinked inquisitively. Tommy responded with a thumbs-up, letting out a fake laugh. Michael copied his actions, giving a similar thumbs-up motion with his hooves.

As Michael continued to eat, Tommy continued to sew, his mind suddenly a lot more crowded than before.

-

Michael slurped up the last of his meal, licking his lips happily. Carrots were always filling, especially when Tommy made them.

The piglin began to let out chirrs, gazing in Tommy's direction as he wiggled in his seat. Tommy looked up from what he was working on, eye softening when he saw how energetic and happy Michael was after the meal.

"Alright, I'm coming."

After removing Michael from his chair, Tommy brought him over to where he had previously played with his bee, setting the boy down carefully on the floor. "You ready for the best fuckin' surprise ever?"

Michael nodded rapidly, clapping his hooves and flapping his legs.

"Shut your eye."

Michael did so, one of his hooves rushing to cover up his functioning eye. The other hoof covered up his skull eye, despite not being able to see anything out of it. Tommy smiled fondly, placing the stuffed bee in front of his nephew. The bee was sewn up shut, a large red bow tied around its thick neck.

“You can look now.”

Michael removed his hooves and immediately started shrieking with excitement. He rushed forward, almost flattening himself into the plush toy. Tommy stepped back, folding his arms and leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Is your uncle the coolest, or what? Don’t answer that, I know I am.”

It was funny how despite being different species, Michael looked so much like Tubbo in the moment. Tommy recalled a similar situation with Tubbo that happened in the ravine of Pogtopia, and how it happened shortly after Quackity had joined the group. Quackity had gone to secretly fetch items from his old office, returning to Pogtopia with them alongside Tubbo’s beloved bee plush that had been abandoned on the former vice-president’s desk.

The bee was ragged and torn, but a still-recovering Tubbo had been happy beyond tears to have it back. He held it all day, with him only letting go as he slept that night. Tommy had slid the bee gently out of the older boy’s arms and tried to stitch it back up. It didn’t go as well as he had hoped, but Niki had found him underneath the moonlight, and was the one to assist in repairing the plush. Tommy had made Niki promise that she wouldn’t tell Tubbo it was him, but looking back at some of those messy cross-stitches, Tubbo probably figured it out within seconds.

Upon waking up, Tubbo found his newly-repaired bee and began to bleat excitedly, clutching the toy close to his chest and burying his face in it. It had been a moment of joy in the darkness of their situation, and certainly lifted Tommy’s own spirits.

Michael was acting just like his father did then, the memory causing a soft smile across the blonde’s features. Tommy was so lost in his thoughts though, he didn’t notice Michael rushing towards him. In the piglin’s excitement, he had forgotten the one rule his parents had set up for him.

He grabbed a hold of Tommy’s leg, squeezing it tightly in a hug.

Tommy's eyes shot open at the sudden contact, the pressure on his leg constricting him, preventing him from moving it. He couldn't move his leg, he couldn't move his leg, he couldn’t move his leg.

His voice caught in his throat, the walls of it tightening as his breathing sped up. He couldn't scream for help, he couldn't cry out for anybody. All that was there was the searing pain of his wounds as his body was scraped along the ground, Dream's voice in his ears that Tommy couldn't run, that Tommy couldn't beg, that Tommy couldn't leave.

Michael had looked up at his uncle at that point, suddenly aware that the mood in the room had shifted drastically, and still clutching the leg. Tommy returned Michael’s look, trying to weakly shake his leg, which had become numb.

“Michael. Leg.”

It was two words, but Michael immediately realized what he had done, the piglin stepping back a few feet with an apologetic squeal. Unfortunately, Tommy’s head was now spinning, and couldn’t make sense of the room. He was real, he was real, he was real. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t back in the prison, his head-

Tommy collapsed to the ground, making Michael jolt. Michael started oinking nervously, trying to find out what was going on, and what he could do. Tommy’s head felt like it was going to split open, and he shut his eye tightly, hands clawing at the wooden floor as he tried to communicate with Michael, making sure not to scare him even more. “Brain’s upset.”

Tommy wasn’t able to open his eye to see what Michael’s response was, but Michael was frantically looking around for something that could help. When his parents were upset, he would curl up next to them, snuggling into their sides, but he couldn’t do this with Tommy. His fathers’ one rule had been to never touch Tommy, especially if his uncle wasn’t looking, and Michael had broken it on accident.

Going over everything he liked to do when scared, Michael’s eye landed on his bee plush. Whenever he was worried, he liked to hug it. Would his uncle like doing that too? Nervously, he tried nudging it towards Tommy, little by little. When he thought it was in good-enough range, he let out gentle honks, trying to get his uncle’s attention. It took a few minutes, but Tommy’s eye eventually opened slightly. It looked glazed and unfocused, glancing around the room for a moment before landing on the soft toy placed in front of him.

Slowly, he let go of the floor, the process taking several minutes for him to even reach out for it, but Michael waited the whole time. He gave the toy one move delicate shove, allowing it to roll until it stopped in front of Tommy with about a foot of distance between them. Once more, Tommy grabbing the plush took a while, his arm trembling, and his face pale, but eventually he got a grip of it, pulling it into his chest as quickly as he could.

“Thanks,” Tommy muttered weakly, Michael’s ears rising as he smiled.

-

It was about a half-hour later before Tommy fully calmed down, the comfort of the bee plushie combined with the gentle sounds of Michael’s chirrs lulling him into a more comfortable mindset.

Weakly he got up, the bee plush sitting in his lap as he rubbed away the tear stains. Tommy glanced over to his side, noticing Michael watching him carefully. His head was cocked to the side, and though he seemed happy that Tommy was up, his eyes showed worry for the older boy.

“I’m great, Michael,” Tommy lied a little. He was certainly feeling a lot better, but Michael probably wouldn’t understand if Tommy said he still felt a little disoriented. It was best to reassure the kid more than anything else. Smiling back at his nephew, Tommy carefully handed the bee plush back to him, the worry in Michael’s eyes being replaced with relief and joy.

With a grunt, Tommy hoisted himself up, praying that his arms or legs wouldn't give out again like they did before. He was still shaken up, and definitely not wanting to come in contact with anything else at the moment, his skin feeling cold and exposed from the aftermath. Michael watched him closely, taking a few steps away whenever Tommy would stumble in place, and looked like he was about to fall over. Letting out a sigh, Tommy looked over at Michael, gently smiling at him. "We could use a break. Do you have anything you want to do?"

Michael practically beamed.

-

"Hello~!" Tubbo slammed open the door, his mouth pulled into a cheeky grin.

Ranboo followed behind his husband, letting out an exhausted yawn as he carried a stack of leather almost up to his chin (and for Ranboo's height, that was saying something). "The world's most tired man is back, along with the living embodiment of a firework hyped up on crack."

"Ranboo, don't say that," Tubbo frowned, placing his hands on his hips. "You're nowhere near enough to be as colorful as a firework is."

"Are you implying that you're the tired one here?" Ranboo set down the stack of leather, beginning to brush remaining bits of meat from the leather off of his hands. "Because it seems like I had to do all the work."

"Hey, you're the one who said we should get leather!"

"And that to YOU somehow translated to "let's kill every cow in a four-mile radius". Now I've got gunk all over me."

"We-"

"OH MY GOD, WILL YOU BOTH PLEASE FUCKING SHUT UP?" Tommy yelled from where he sat on the carpet, spinning a plastic spinner that landed on the color red. Michael oinked in agreement, trying to reach the red spot on the plastic mat with his hind leg. Tubbo and Ranboo's conversation was immediately forgotten, the two watching in awe as their son was playing Twister.

"C'mon, big M. You've got this," Tommy encouraged. When Michael wasn't looking, Tommy carefully slid the mat closer together, making the spot reachable for him. Michael placed his leg down, letting out a squeal of victory. Tommy whooped excitedly, Michael raised a hand to give Tommy an air high-five, when he slipped and fell down, squealing in surprise.

"I know last time with Battleship was the weirdest I thought this could get, but I literally have no clue why you keep teaching him games out of his age range." Tubbo muttered, confused, before taking off his uniform and hanging it up on one of the hooks. Ranboo nodded, following Tubbo's actions with his own coat.

"Michael's a trooper!" Tommy folded his arms with satisfaction. "Next time I'm teaching him chess."

"Do you even know how to play chess?"

"Um, of course I do."

"Then why-"

"Okay!" Ranboo clapped his hands together, interrupting the conversation before it spiraled once more. "I assume you two had a good time?"

Tommy and Michael looking away from the couple awkwardly wasn't a good sign.

"Well, it was a good time," Tommy began to explain. "There was just a little accident though. I'll tell you two about it later when, y'know, somebody certain's asleep. But all you need to know is that Michael handled it really well." The blonde looked down at the piglin, flashing a fanged grin. Michael returned the smile, standing up on his stubby legs and rushing to Tubbo to give him a hug.

"How was the patrol thingy?" Tommy stood up as well, stretching as best as he could.

Ranboo and Tubbo were now the ones that looked away awkwardly.

"So somebody," Tubbo began, itching his cheek. "Might have suggested that we should get leather while we were out."

"And SOMEBODY," Ranboo flashed Tubbo a glance, folding his arms. "Decided to commit a mass cow genocide-"

"You know what! That story's not important right now!" Tubbo waved his hands frantically, laughing awkwardly as he avoided eye contact with a glaring Ranboo. "The point is, we didn't end up doing what we wanted to do-"

"Wonder who's fault that is-"

"-SO WE DECIDED TO DO IT ANOTHER TIME!" Tubbo finished, looking like he was about to start sweating buckets. "So, if it's okay, Tommy… could you maybe look after him again tomorrow?"

Tommy grinned again, nodding his head several times. "You can count on it, Tubbs. We definitely need to fuckin' talk about what happened tonight first, but hell yeah! Sounds good to me!"

"If you tell me Michael killed somebody, you're immediately fired as a babysitter and an uncle." Ranboo lifted up Michael from Tubbo's side, allowing the piglin to grab at his horn.

"Michael, if you ever kill somebody, don't tell your dads." Tommy whispered to Michael in piglin, fully knowing what was coming next once Michael giggled.

"Tommy, what did you say to him."

"Manslaughter is pog."

"YOU DID NOT-"

[worminstuff]

The Balcony of the Treehouse Pt.6

sleepy bois x reader au

no warnings:)

also merry christmas:)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Is that good or bad” Y/n asked Techno, her gaze soft.

“I'm not sure. He was really cool but..” Techno shrugged his shoulders.

It was currently the next day, and Y/n was accompanying Techno in the treehouse. They were currently discussing Techno’s new friend as of yesterday, Bo. Sam's older son.

Apparently Bo was sorta like Techno in some ways. They were both pretty shy at first but then found some common interest, and became rather comfortable pretty fast. Bo even let Techno ramble about Y/n for a bit and also said he would totally wanna meet her too.

“He's just not me.” Y/n grinned cockily and Techno pushed her shoulder.

“Right.” he rolled his eyes. “How was it with the other boys?”

“It was alright. Surprisingly very chill. I guess Tommy and Tubbo had really tired themselves out in the morning beforehand.” she shrugged. She was telling the truth, they slept for quite a while and were only awake for about an hour before everyone else got back.

“What about Will?” Techno wondered how she handled being around him while he was still..angsty.

Y/n shrugged again. She didn't really want to tell him about the kitchen and how they talked for the whole tiny Tommy and Tubbo napped. Or the cigarettes.

She couldn't stop thinking about how she was sitting on the counter and how he seemed so calm and sweet as if nothing happened.

She just had no idea, he was doing it on purpose. Will figures, if he can ignore his protective and jealous feelings, and maybe just try to get a connection with her. He may actually be able to get somewhere. Techno has the higher ground, he spends all his time with her and he has for years. Wilbur's only just started to in the past year and a half or so.

Wilbur doubts Techno actually has genuine feelings for Y/n. He has no way of genuinely knowing. It's just sort of a hunch. Or a hope maybe.

“He actually asked if i wanted to go to that bonfire thing with him..” her voice was almost a mumble. Just after she said she thought it would be fun, Wilbur explained the next evening they were going down to the beach to have a bonfire and hangout and chill. He said they do it often and it's always really fun.

Techno looked at her, slightly surprised. She wanted to hangout with Wilbur? No way.

“And you said..no..right?” his brows furrowed.

“Well..wait why would I say no?” she looked at him. Her brows furrowed also.

“Well obviously..I- he- what?” Techno shook his head.

“What do you mean what? Why would I have said no? It sounds fun.” she crossed her arms.

Techno stared at her for a moment. He slid a bit forward, so he was a bit closer. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands. Y/n stared back questioningly.

“Odds.” he stated, staring right into her eyes.

“Techno!” Y/n pushed his leg a bit, and looked away, slightly mad. “What the hell?!”

Odds was something they created when they were young, similar to the game odds, it ends with saying a number between certain odds to help decide something.except that's usually for something like a dare. In this case, they used it in sort of flip of a coin situations, but only when one of them thought it was really really important. And the person that calls odds, gets to pick the odds, ex. 1 through 5 or 1 through 10 etc. they did this so they didn't argue about situations sorta like this.

“If you say the same number as me, 1 through 4, you stay. If not, you can go. odds on your side.” he had 0 emotion to his features.

“That's not fair!” she frowned.

“It is though. I called it.” he shrugged, almost smiling. Almost.

Y/n huffed. “Fine.”

Techno counted them down and on the count of three,

“Two.” they spoke at the same time.

“Fuck!” Y/n hit his knee as Techno grinned. Crisis averted. Or so he thought.

Techno grinned as she huffed and crossed her arms with a pout, shooting daggers with her eyes.

“Hey, it's not that bad! Now I can read you that book you got me.” Techno had a happy little grin on his face.

“Oh no, i'm definitely going.” Y/n said. His smile disappeared instantly.

“What? But- but odds?” his shoulders sank. Y/n alone with will in a car, and then alone with him and his friends, at a bonfire. There would be beer and shit everywhere! He just wanted her with him, safe away from Wilbur's scummy friends.

“I told Will I would! I can't go back on that. That's so rude.” she looked at him with puppy eyes.

Techno glared slightly, looked away, then looked back. She knew the eyes work, he acts all tough but he's too soft for it not to work.

“Okay. but i want you back here, when it's over. Not your house, not inside our house. Treehouse.” he pointed to the floor.

“And then normal sleepover?” Y/n smiled a little.

Techno's face softened as he saw her smile. He tried not to match her smile while shaking his head a little.

“Sure.”

^^^^^^^^^^

“Who's going this time?” Phil asked Wilbur.

It was around 5 or 5:30 and everyone was sat around the dining room table having dinner like they always do. Phil was currently discussing the bonfire with Wilbur, because he wanted to make a guesstimate in his head for how long Will would be gone using context clues. Because Will was never really home by the times he says he will.

“The usual group” Wilbur pointed his fork at his plate. “Oh! And Y/n”

Wilbur looked to her with a grin. Phil, for a lack of better words, looked as if one of his kids just had a pregnancy scare.

“Sorry, “ Phil shook his head slightly, “say that again?”

“Or don't.” Techno mumbled, Y/n jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“I'm going along! I haven't done anything fun lately so Wilbur offered to let me tag along. It'll be fun.”Y/n shrugged.

Wilbur was beaming, Techno was silently livid, and Phil was looking in between the two very nervously.

The reason Techno was so genuinely angry was because Wilbur looked so smug when they sat down at the table. His grin was from ear to ear and he was excited to talk to Y/n about when she wanted to go and if she needed anything from her house, and the entire time Techno sat and felt his anger levels rise. His ears were hot, his shoulders tense and not a smile in sight.

He wanted to smack the smirk of his brother's face to be frank.

Techno knew what was going to happen. She was going to go with him, and have an amazing time. Great, right? Wrong. Clear to Techno, this was some evil master plan. Wilbur was going to give her more friends she would only go see with him. So when she wanted to spend time with these new people she had to also see him. And obviously at first she'll be all she so he gets to confront her and break her out of her shell. Techno knows how social Y/n can be, and she loves meeting new people! He hated to say it, but his brother was a genius.

Techno's fingers were starting to tremble.

What if she did like them? And wanted to see them more? What if they're cooler than him and what if they do drugs? Y/n wouldn't do drugs..would she?

His breath was slowly starting to catch up on him. He excused himself quickly and made his way off to the bathroom.

The crisp sound of the door creaking filled his ears as his back slid against it till he was on the floor.

His mind was running rampant.

How well does he really know Y/n? What could she possibly want with a bonfire when she has him and the treehouse? Is he not enough for her? Should he try to make more friends?

What was wrong with him?

He clutched his leg as he silently shook and took tiny shallow breaths.

Soon enough, just as he was starting to be able to allow more air into his lungs there was a soft knock on the door.

“Techno?..” Phil's voice was soft on the other side of the door.

Techno sniffled as he stood, he brushed himself off, and took a deep breath pushing all emotion from his features. He reached over and flushed the toilet a few feet in front of him, then he ran the sink for a moment before opening the door with one hand wiping on his leg.

“Hm?” he raised his brows.

Phil stared at him, analyzing his face fully. He looked fine, sort of. He looks normal to anyone who isn't his father per say. Phil could see behind his cold eyes he had been crying. No matter how much he pushed his emotions down, he couldn't push away the puffy eye bags or the glossy sheen, though they were actually very subtle.

A simple arm was raised and Techno immediately fell into him, deadweight in his arms. Phil held him tightly, silently. He pressed his cheek onto Techno's head, brushing down the unruly tangles in his hair.

There were no words spoken, they stood silently. Phil knew Techno wasn't going to tell him anything so he did not bear to try.

A little bit of time passed, and they broke apart to make their way back when Phil leaned over,

“Laugh with me like we said something funny. Trust me.”

Techno stared at him for a moment, and then giggled softly. Phil joined him and their laughs were terribly fake which caused more laughter and soon it became real laughter as they were walking into the dining room.

Y/n was staring at a babbling Tommy, while Wilbur was on his phone. Y/n immediately looked to Techno once he was in the room, a worried look on her eyes that disappeared as she saw his face. She was worried for nothing.

Phil patted Techno's back softly as they both picked up their plates to clean them, Tommy following suit with his father and older brother. Will and Y/n stood to do the same.

“Alright dad, think we're gonna head off.” Wilbur said, his grin authentic.

Phil nodded, “Right, don't forget to send me a ping when you get there and on your way home.” he pointed a winger between the pair, both nodded.

Techno stared aimlessly as he watched his girl walk out the door with his brother.

He hoped she was going to have fun.

As soon as both doors to the front seats of Will's car closed, Wilbur looked at her excitedly.

He turned the car on and pulled from the driveway, “Are we excited?”

“You can say that.” her smile was small.

“Don't be nervous, you're gonna love them and they're gonna love you. It's gonna be great.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, he read her so easily. He looked so giddy. Was it because of her? She didn't want to get cocky but she'd never seen him this excited to see his friends before.

Wilbur's mind was running wild, he was alone with her for once, and then she got to hangout with his people. He even had a small surprise for her that he was even more excited for.

Y/n was progressively getting more and more nervous as they drove silently. She was starting to overthink. As she listened to her thoughts quietly, she failed to notice her leg start to bounce.

Will placed a gentle hand on her knee, “None of that. Nothing to be worried over. I wouldn't have asked you to come if i didn't know for a fact they'd like you.” his eyes broke away from the road momentarily. Y/n nodded. She trusted him.

Soon the smell of saltwater filled the car. Y/n took a quiet deep breath. Letting it fill her lungs. She slowly calmed herself, trying not to think of the hand on her knee, it would only fuel her nervous fire.

Y/n felt strange being here without Techno. It felt wrong. She rarely ever goes anywhere he isn't. He's practically glued to her 85% of the time.

Which was why when she was first meeting Wilbur's “crew”, she felt like a fish out of water.

Even with Wilbur's comforting hand holding hers, she felt stiff and awkward. They were all intimidating, the dudes were tall and confident and the girls were all gorgeous and sweet. Confident too.

She did notice, one of the boys seemed much more approachable. He stood at the back of the group while introductions were going around, she learned his name was Eret and he was one of Wilbur's newer friends but he was really cool.

Wilbur beamed at Y/n as he told her about his friends, his hand was still gentle and it made her smile.

Wilbur was happy she was getting a bit comfortable.

Once they felt everyone had been thoroughly introduced, they all started placing blankets on the sand around the large fire they'd made before Will and her had arrived.

Wilbur set down a blanket he brought and motioned for her to sit with him. When she sat down, he leaned over to speak into her ear, “See, nothing to worry about, yeah?”

He leaned away, showing her a grin. She smiled and shook her head at his silly little grin.

This was really fun.

She loved hearing these kids talk, there was even one girl like her whose parents were also never home. She liked her. The girl even offered that they go drive around some time! When she said that, Y/n of course nodded eagerly.

Wilbur, well he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He loved seeing her like this, it was like she was in her element. Meeting new people and making connections. It's a shame Techno has hogged her from people for so long. He resented him for that. To be fair, it's been like that since they've met. Wilbur saw her all the time, but only in brief interactions up until highschool.

She was so sweet, excited to talk to all of them even though he knew she was nervous, and Wilbur knew his friends loved her already. How could they not?

Wilbur was about to try to get her to talk to him for a little, seeing as how they'd been there for almost 45 minutes already and had barely spoken to him, but he was taped on the shoulder as a signal there was about to be a cigarette break out in the parking lot.

Wilbur stood, and leaned down to Y/n whispering to her where he was going. Just before he was about to go, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes were wide.

“Look a bit..surprised there?” it was Eret, he sat down on the blanket next to Y/n just after seeing Will was about to go for a butt. He didn't want Y/n to sit all alone.

“I um..no yeah he just..its nothing.” Y/n laughed at her own lack of words, and Eret did too.

“I take it you two aren't official or anything?” his voice was low, and almost gravely but it was still so comforting.

Y/n knew he didn't mean it as if he were trying to make a move on her, he sounded genuinely curious.

“No it's..complicated. Very complicated.” Y/n stared at the fire.

“If I'm not prying, how so? You both seem..really..content together.” he looked from her to the fire.

“I..well his brother is my..best friend and he..”

“He..?” Eret leaned in a little.

“Well i don't know what he is to me really.” she looked at him, her face in question at her own realization.

“Well I know for a fact, he's infatuated with you.”

Y/ns eyes were wide again, “what?”

“Oh he's always going on about you.” Eret had a cheeky grin, almost like Will’s she thought, “He's been talking about you meeting all of us since he asked you yesterday. Not to mention he’s..” Eret stopped himself. He got carried away in his little ramble.

“He's what?” Y/n was confused why he stopped himself.

“No no, I really shouldn't have said anything.” he waved his hand as if he were brushing away his words.

Y/n groaned and threw her head back, “You can't do that!”

Eret laughed, “I'm sorry!”

“Tell me please.” she looked at him with pleading eyes.

Eret stared at her for a moment and sighed. “He's in love with you. But i don't know if you know that or not..so..” she did not. “I think I'm the only one hes told, but he was so...I don't know how to explain it. When he told me he sounded like he was pouring his heart out.” Eret’s eyes were on the fire.

He was in love with her?

Y/ns heart ached. No wonder he was so...hurt. It was her fault too.

As if on cue, (this boy was terribly good with timing) she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder as it slid around her shoulders. Will pulled her to his chest as he sat behind her. He smelled of smoke, but it was comforting. Before she thought about it, or what they were doing, she leaned back into him. The rest of the group took back their seats and conversion rose again.

Y/n an Wilbur sat listening quietly until she heard Will's voice in her ear.

“Chatting it up with Eret while I was gone?” his arm was still across her chest, his hand on her shoulder.

“I was, he's really nice.” she turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” he smiled at her in the dim light of the fire. She smiled back and nodded.

Wilbur stared at her a moment, “How about..we get out of here, and I show you another pretty place?” he was still smiling, but his eyes were nervous for a response.

“Sure. Sounds fun.” she gave him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was quick to get up. Telling the group they were heading off, a little too excitedly.

Before Wilbur could pull her away, she quickly got all of the girls numbers and was even added to a group chat. She was beaming once they reached the car.

“And she even told me that i could go and hangout when they went to her house! Isn't that so sweet.” she looked at Will towards the end of her sentence to see he was already staring at her, his hand on the wheel in front of him.

His lip was in between his teeth, “Mhm. I knew you'd get along swimmingly with them.”

Y/n giggled.

“So where are we going?” she smiled to herself as Wilbur put his hand on her knee.

“Not saying, but, it's not far at all. We're practically there.” he was exaggerating, but the ride wasn't long at all.

Even though he wasn't, Wilbur felt as if he was driving slow. He felt like time was still, and he was glad. He wanted this to last as long as it could.

Y/n would have never expected what she saw, she was expecting a pretty clif with a view, or something like that.

He brought her to a flower field.

He parked the car on the side of the road towards the middle of the field.

Once they'd both stepped out, Wilbur went to her side.

“Up you go, turn around.” he motioned up at the top of his car. Y/n stared at him for a moment before turning around and letting him hoist her up so she could climb on top of the car. He climbed up after her and sat beside her.

For a little while, Y/n stared at the way the moonlight was casting a blue white onto the field and all the flowers. Wilbur stared at her. They sat this way for a little while but Y/n was the first to break the silence.

“A little birdy..told me something interesting.” she looked at him.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“Is it hard?” Y/n was staring at the moon, her hand was picking at the seam of her jeans.

“Is what hard?” Wilbur stared at her feet as they swung back and forth.

“..being in love with me.” she looked up at him, her eyes starry.

“Maybe. But it doesn't have to be.”

[dyketubbo]

(characterzzz lmao) not to be a c!wilbur apologist (yes actually i will be a c!wilbur apologist) but im gonna be fr his treatment of ranboo n tubster is not the best definitely but like.... quackitys manipulation of tubbo here is much more harmful in the long run and honestly unsettles me a lot more bc like!! at least we can keep track of how wilbur interacts w ranboo n tubbo, weve seen every interaction hes had with ranboo in full and many have consistently debunked that wilbur was anything more than occassionally rude to tubbo in one year later. outside of telling ranboo to destroy things, theres very little fullblown manipulation, and wilbur has put himself on equal footing with both of them.

but quackity? we dont know what he told tubbo. and whatever their conversation was, it took place very recently after tubbo was incredibly vulnerable and just had a breakdown over feeling as if he has no purpose. and see, wilbur immediately let tubbo be when told that tubbo didnt want to follow him. but from the context we have so far, we can infer that quackity saw a rain-drenched teenager recovering from a breakdown and turned on the strategic part of his brain to give tubbo a pitch, and, well. weve seen quackitys pitches. wilburs trying to sharpen ranboos claws, but quackity is trying to declaw tubbo, and while i do think there is a genuine friendship between quackity and tubbo, i think the fandom may need to remember that the members of las nevadas were all manipulated into thinking they needed las nevadas (needed quackity). feel free to enjoy the haha funny jokes with tubbo and quackity, but dont forget that tubbo may be in much more danger than ranboo is right now

[honeybunnybeez]

HELLO! I was wondering if you do like paternal smp? If you do then I have this idea! It’s in the final control room in the first war. You’re erets child, when he pressed the button you realized your father just betrayed you and your friends-SOMETHING LIKE THAT! THANKS :D

"No other way" (ANGST) (PLATONIC)

♡Parent!Eret x Child!reader

♡Summary: You didn't know why your father wanted to keep you away from viewing the secret weapon he claim he had. What was so scary that he felt the need to ask you to leave thrice?

♡Gender Neutral Reader!

"(Y/n), love?"

"Yes?"

"It still isn't too late to turn back now," Eret reminds you once again as you 6 make your way through a narrow hallway where you father claims he's kept the secret weapon.

You let out a groan as you step down another step, frustrated and confused as to why he would ask that question for the 3rd time since you all left for this place.

"I've already told you I wanted to follow. Why ask if I would like to come only to ask if I would like to walk away now?" You didn't mean for it to sound rude, but you wanted to state your point. If a simple 'no, I want to keep going,' isn't clear enough for him he should at least explain why he keeps asking.

"I just, don't want you to get scared of what you'll see, that's all."

His reason didn't seem to sound all that complete and you didn't really like that. Before you could ask him to clarify, Tommy speaks up.

"Scared? After all the shit they've seen? A little weapon isn't going to scare them none, right (y/n)?"

Distracted by Tommy's subtle praise you forget about your question and choose to grin proudly at Tommy's words, "yeah, it isn't!"

Despite how he is, Tommy's always been one to tell you how brave and strong you are and how he knows that you'll grow up to be a complete badass, just like the rest of them. Despite his mean behavior, he's the most supportive of your growth out of everyone.

"Didn't you scream earlier when a bat flew over us?" Fundy adds causing the rest of them to laugh.

"Hey! In my defense those fuckers pop out of nowhere-"

"(Y/n), language. You're only 12," your father reprimands lightly, but you don't miss the smile in his voice.

"(Y/n), swear louder, make it echo!"

"Tommy, don't make (y/n) turn out to be a gremlin child like you," Wilbur scolds playfully.

"Excuse you, I am the perfect role model for them!"

You can't help but laugh and listen on with fondness as you hear them all start to bicker with one another.

You're little resistence group was far from perfect, but they were your best friends, your family. So of course you were hurt when your father kept asking if you wanted to stay back. You wanted to be there with them during every big moment, you didn't want to leave them behind.

"Eret, what is this?" You hear Tubbo ask.

Finally snapping out of your thoughts, you notice a little blackstone room at the end of the long hallway. There were chests sitting in them too, all with signs to show who they belonged too, and you even had your own!

"This is the final control room," your father explains, looking around.

"This is amazing," you say in awe. You look around to see the others having the same kind of reaction too.

You can't help yourself from opening the chest with your name on it. Upon opening it though, there wasn't anything in it. That was odd.

"There's nothing in the chest," Wilbur exclaims before you get the chance to. You turn to look at him and witness as Wilbur's face changes from confused to concern as he looks over at Tommy who checks out the button in the middle of the room.

"What does the button do?"

"Tommy-!"

Something can be heard clicking and opening and before you know it, four armed men appear seemingly out of nowhere to ambush and kill off your friends.

"WAIT, NO-!"

Before you can react and aid them in combat, your father knocks your sword out of your hands with his pickaxe, dragging you into another hidden room with him.

"Fuck, (Y/n)-!" You can hear Tommy's cries end quick as the sound of his body falling onto the floor quickly follows suit.

"You traitor!" You hear Wilbur scream out before he too meets the similar fate his friend has.

You scream for mercy through the blackstone wall, begging them not to hurt your friends but it's too late. You don't hear anymore screams or the sound of swords clashing with one another. It's all just radio silence and it happened far too quick for you to truly process that this is all real.

Something your father steps on opens the hidden blackstone door once again and he steps out of the room with a smirk and a salute.

"Down with the revolution boys!"

You don't how to react, all you can do is stare wide eyed at the four lifeless bodies of your friends slowly fading away from where they lay.

They cheer, the bastards you've been taught to hate cheer and your father is cheering alongside with them. The man who took you in when no one else would, the man you trusted with every fibre of your being, is celebrating with the enemy.

"It was never meant to be."

Hearing your father say that causes all the rage bubbling inside of you to burst and for the first time in a while, you let out an ear piercing scream that echoes through the room.

"HOW COULD YOU!?"

All five men turn to look at you, the bastards still have grins on their faces but your father's face made you feel the sickest. He had the audacity to look at you with such worry, such concern.

"(Y/n)-"

"THEY WERE OUR FRIENDS,FATHER!"

He tries to open his mouth to speak again but you don't give him the chance to, cutting him off before he could even get a letter in.

"AND EVEN IF THEY WEREN'T YOUR FRIENDS, THEY WERE MINE FOR FUCKS SAKE, THEY WERE LIKE FAMILY TO ME! THEY WERE MY FAMILY AND YOU BACKSTABBED THEM!"

You heart starts to ache further and the tears you were trying so hard to hold back fall with no end in sight. You start to wonder if they think you were part of this plan as well and if they hate your guts too. God, you hope that isn't the case, you don't think you could take it if they hated you when you still loved them back.

He tries to come closer, tries to hug you but you use all the strength you can muster to shove him away, and you do a pretty good job at moving him back and shocking him.

"Don't touch me!" You cry out, wiping away the tears that blur your vision. "Don't ever touch me again, you fucking traitor!"

A chuckle can be heard coming from behind your father as you scream at him.

"Well, looks like someone has a tantrum on their hands," the joke Dream gives causes the other three members of his group to laugh and you can't help but grit your teeth and clench your fist as you struggle not to argue back or stab him right through his ugly mask.

"(Y/n), please, listen to me," he pleads, but your head is starting spin from the stress and you're trying to block out any and all sounds in the room. Begging any higher power above that this is just a nightmare. A scary nightmare that you'll soon wake up from with Tommy and Tubbo sleeping close by just as half haphazardly as you are.

"Why?" You whimper out before you can stop yourself. "Why did you do this."

You can't help but take a few steps back as he walks over to you and kneels down to your level. It hurts your father's heart to no end to see you terrified of him, acting like a skittish stray kitten from a village. He starts to doubt his actions for a moment when he sees how frantic you are, but a ringing promise in his head is what reminds him of why he did what he did.

"I did it so we would be safe. So that you could be safe," his voice is barely above a whisper as he says so, like he doesn't want anyone else to hear. Dream gives a quick glance, like he knows something, but he doesn't comment, choosing instead to continue talking the the others.

You shake your head, refusing to accept his bullshit answer, "There could've been another way, you didn't have to do this-!"

He tried to find other ways, he swears, but Dream knew too much and held too much power against him, against everyone. He could take everything away from him, he could take you away from him and he couldn't have that. Sure he now had a target on his head with the resistance, but it's better than having Dream target both him and you. He doesn't tell you all of this though, not yet, it isn't the right time to.

"(Y/n)," your father tries once again to hold you and this time you can't find any power left within you to shove him off again. So you let him hug you, but your arms remain firmly planted to your side, fighting the urge to hug him back for comfort.

"Trust me, there truly was no other way..."

A/N: DID SOMEONE CALL THE ANGST DOCTOR? :D Ah, lord, I had a little too much fun with this but I may have gone out of topic and ooc so I'm very sorry if I did! I've read the parental smp stories before and I adore them to absolute bits so I may have squealed when I got this ask. Thank you anon for the request and I hope you all enjoyed it as well!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

[teddy06writes]

Through Thick And Thin

requested by this anon: “If you are still doing requests, could you maybe do a royal AU of a Knight! Awesamdude x royalty reader? Thanks!” 

Awesamdude x reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, mentioned character death

premise: royalty au; you are heir to the throne of the dream smp lands, Sam is the knight who has been sworn to protect you. When L’manburg, a rising power begins to attack, Sam stays by your side, even as the kingdom falls

{also I did my best to keep this gender neutral, but it might’ve ended up leaning for feminine, sorry about that}

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“Do you take one lump or two?” You forced a polite smile onto your face. 

“Two, with lemon, not milk,” Bad said, “Try not to look so bored, you may be able to pull a smile on your face, but your eyes wandering about this room betray you.” 

Etiquette lessons were something you had finished long ago, but your mother had arranged for a brush up, seeing as the ambassadors of L’manburg would be arriving Wednesday. 

You nodded, quietly filling his tea cup with what he requested, and sliding it across the table too him. 

“Now, serve the tea cakes.” Bad instructed. 

As you cut the sponge cake into pieces you let your eyes drift again, look to where Sam stood beside the door. 

He bit back a smile, scrunching his nose at you. 

It took all your willpower not to giggle, regaining composer as you passed the plate across the table. 

~~

“I just think its stupid shit,” You said, tapping the toe of your shoe against the gravel path, “I already know how to poor tea and address nobles.” 

Sam chuckled, looking around the garden, “I suppose you do, but brushing up on those things never hurts.” 

“I did my time learning tea and titles, and dances and all that. I don’t see why I should have to do it any more. You should help me sneak out of lessons.” 

He laughed again, “I don’t know if I can partake in helping you get out of your duties.” 

“You used too.” You fake pouted, moving to sit on one of the benches lining the path.

“Yes well that was before, this is now. I’m not a stable boy any longer. We both have different duties to attend to.” He said, turning to look at you. 

You frowned, “I thought your duties were to protect me.” 

“They are.” 

“Then you’d have to go with me if,,, say I snuck away to go down to the shore tomorrow. Where we used to go in the summer.” You grinned cheekily. 

“Yes, I would have to,” He admitted begrudgingly, “But, considering you have to handle preparations for the ambassadors stay, I would be forced to suggest waiting till after they leave on Friday.” 

You chuckled, “I like the way you think.” 

~~

The morning of the ambassadors arrival came all too quickly, and you woke early, carefully dressing. 

There was a knock on the door, around 9:30, to which you sighed, “Come in.” 

Sam appeared in the door, holding a glass box, “His highness says you must wear this.” 

You look wearily at the small crown he was holding, then back at him, “You’re joking me.” 

He shook his head, “Dream insisted.” 

“Oh for XD’s sake.” you muttered, taking the box, and moving to set it atop your desk.

Slowly you extracted the crown, setting it gently atop your hair, adjusting it slightly in the mirror before turning to Sam, “How’s it look?” 

“Heavy.” He laughed. 

“Oh shut up,” You grumbled, moving past him into the corridor, “How long until the ambassador arrives?” 

“Half an hour or so.” He reported.

~~ Negotiations had began the moment Wilbur Soot and his cabinet members walked in the door, hardly leaving any time for introductions. 

You sat uncomfortably in your chair, these men were not like the ones you were expecting to be meeting. 

They were loud, harsh, and in the young blonde boys case, quite rude.

“Simply put, we don’t want to start a fight if we don’t have to, with you or any of the other neighboring  kingdoms.” Wilbur finished. 

Dream crossed his arms, looking at the treaty that had been placed in front of him, “You want our land?” 

“No, we only want a small piece of your land, just the farms that are technically within L’manburg’s borders,” The young Lord Tubbo clarified, “The original treaty clearly designates them to us.” 

“With all due respect, Mr. President, His Highness never agreed to the original terms.” Bad pointed out. 

George nodded, “Your nation has grown separately, never attached to us, the farms have never been yours.” 

Dream couldn’t help but chuckle as he cocked his head, “Your here for something else, aren’t you?” 

Wilbur sighed, “Yes, I suppose we are. Well, gentlemen, I should come clean. I come here seeking power. Something to put me at an advantage. I came here to ask for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.” 

“Excuse me?” You snapped, eyes wide. 

“You heard me. I wish to make you my betrothed, lord knows its the most you could accomplish in a life time.” He repeated, something malicious in his voice. 

The Dream SMP’s side of the table grew very tense. 

“I reject your proposal,” You stared him dead in the eye, “I would never marry a man like you.” 

Before anyone else could speak, you stood, “Perhaps you’ll work out a different arrangement. If you’ll excuse me.” 

With that you gracefully glided out of the room, loyal knight on your heels. 

It wasn’t until you reached the safety of the farthest garden from the castle that you felt like you could breath again. 

“I’ll kill him,” Sam muttered, pacing along the path, “No one speaks to you like that and gets away with it.” 

You sank onto a bench, pulling the crown from your head and running your hands through your hair, “He’s vile! The whole lot of them are!” 

“They’ll never get away with this. Everyone knows you’re mi-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. 

“Why, for a moment did it look like Dream was actually considering it?” You muttered, tears springing into the corners of your eyes. 

Sam quickly sat beside you, taking your hands, “Hey, I won’t let it happen. You’re- you belong here.... with me.” 

You looked up at him, with wide eyes, “Sam- you really mean that? With you? Truly you’d allow it?” 

Practically the whole palace staff had known since you’d first met Sam that you’d fallen for him. It had seemed like you were always destined to be together. 

“Yes, if you would.” 

You nodded, resting your forehead against his, “I would.” 

For a moment, the world seemed right. 

For a moment, nothing was wrong. 

For a moment, it seemed like there was a chance. 

Until a loud explosion rang through the castle, ripping through the tranquil morning.

Distantly you could hear screams of pain, yells of triumph and fights breaking out. 

Sam quickly stood, turning to the castle, where all the other guards seemed to be running too. 

“Sam...” 

Your shaky voice broke him from his almost trance, “What wrong dove?” 

“Sam they all had gladiolus flowers on there lapels. They all- the all had gladiolus on there lapels.” 

How you hadn’t realized it before you weren’t sure. 

“What?” 

“Gladiolus means ready- or armed.” You said quietly.

Sam stared at you for a moment, before someone else entered the garden, “You really shouldn’t have turned down that proposal (y/n)!” 

“Run!” Sam yelled, grabbing your hand to pull you along with him. 

You ran blindly with him, down the paths and toward the back of the garden. 

Sam pushed you toward the gap in the hedge, “Go! Down by the shore, where we used to go in the summer. Go! I’ll be there as soon as I can, lock yourself inside, and only open up for me.” 

You barley had time to think before he shoved you through the hedge, turning and drawing his sword to face Wilbur. 

~~ You stumbled along the path, you were almost there- almost there- almost to the abandoned light house. 

The sounds of fighting faded behind you as you tripped once more, picking yourself up and going even faster as the sea came into view. 

You threw yourself against the lighthouse door to get it to open, quickly closing it behind you and locking the door. 

You leaned against it, struggling to catch your breath. 

After a moment, your eyes adjusted to the light, and you looked around at the dusty space. 

When you were young, this had been Sam and yours special place, somewhere to avoid lessons. 

The only servant who’d known about it had helped you move furniture out there long ago, and the space seemed semi inhabitable. 

You fumbled to light a lamp, then found your way to a cabinet, looking for a cloth, or rag to clean with. 

Soon you were busying yourself with fixing the place up, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Sam was taking a very long time to get there. 

Once you finished the first floor you climbed the stone steps to the next, and began working there. 

Night had nearly fallen when you heard a rough knock at the door. 

Armed with a small paring knife you’d found in the old kitchen you crept to the door, peaking out the small window to check who it was. 

Quickly you unlocked the door, throwing it open and pulling Sam inside, “Holy shit Sam you had me so worried!” 

He grunted, moving to sit at the table you had turned upright, as you locked the door again. 

“Are you hurt at all?” 

He shook his head, “Just tired, I came the long way, to make sure no one was following. Are you alright?” 

You sighed with relief, “I’ll be okay, long as your here.” 

Sam smiled, “I’ll be here through thick and thin.” 

[daisylore-au]

To Tommyinnit!

Hello, I’m Ghostbur! I was missing you a lot today, so I wrote this letter! You can’t read it right now, and I do hope you won’t get to read it for a long, long time, but they say writing your feelings down is a good way to think. I haven’t written many letters, but I think I should start by saying I’m sorry. It was very rude of me to leave without saying goodbye. It wasn’t on purpose! But I am still sorry. I know you said you didn’t want Alivebur to come back, but I know you care about him. I hope the resurrection worked and you two are getting along again. I hope it turned out okay for you.

Things turned out better than expected for me! I thought if Alivebur got resurrected, I’d disappear into the void and be alone forever, or that I might just stop existing all together. I was really, really scared Tommy. And for a little bit, I could feel myself falling into the void. But someone caught me.

Did you know Philza Minecraft’s wife is Death? I’m not sure why, but I could have sworn his wife was a refrigerator! I like her much better this way, though. Mumza is a very nice lady and she took me to her home! Its very nice here. She has a big library full of stories, and she says I’m good at music, and there are birds everywhere. She treats me like family, but she doesn’t call me Wil. She says I’m my own person. Its taken getting used to, but I think I like it.

I still miss you, and Philza, and Technoblade and Friend and everyone. I still dream about L’Manberg. Even though this is my home now, I still get homesick for the old times. Mumza says I’ll see you all again someday, but since she’s Death I think maybe she’s talking about when you all die. Don’t rush for me! I can wait, and when you do finally come, we can share so many stories. I hope you find that happy ever after you deserve.

PS. Take care of Friend for me! :)

Love, Ghostbur!

Dear Ghostbur,

So this is pretty stupid because I know you’ll never get this letter (considering you’re dead and shit) but Puffy told me that sometimes writing out my feelings is better than speaking them. I’ve never really been good at speaking (or writing) things so I thought I’d give it a go because I’m the best.

I’m sorry I got you ki

I feel gui

I want to thank you, man. For everything. I don’t want to get sappy because Tubbo might find it or something and I think I would rather blow up a country (sorry not sorry) than him read this but you were kind of there for me when nobody else was. In exile, even if you fucked off halfway through but that actually wasn’t your fault and I don’t really hold it against you. When I got out of prison. When I was alone. When I thought I had nobody. You can tell I’ve been to therapy because I’m being open and honest about my feelings which isn’t exactly something I’d done before coz Wilbur and Philza are shit at feelings and never open up about anything (which actually makes me better than them because I’m at therapy and they’re not. Sucks to be them. They’re dumb.)

But yeah. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for sticking by me even when I was horrible to you a lot of the time sometimes. You were a lot nicer to me than Wilbur was, and I think I took a lot of my feelings towards him out on you at times, which was a bit shit of me. He’s still dead, by the way. I thought maybe when you died, he’d come back, and I was really scared not really sure what to think if he did. But he didn’t, so now I’m just kind of brotherless. Which is fine, you know, brothers fuck off every so often, but it was lonely for a while. 

I’m not alone anymore, though. There’s this kid - her name is Henry (yes like the cow, fuck off) - and she’s kind of mine? Now I’M like the big brother which is fucking weird, but she’s cool. You would have liked her, I think. Her favourite colour is blue, and she has a toy sheep that she calls Buddy (think she got that from you, though I have no idea how). Puffy told me to tell you that I’m happy because she was trying to ask me what you’d say if I told you that, but I told her I didn’t think you’d say anything. I think you’d’ve hugged me, and I think you would’ve cried, even though crying hurts you, but it would’ve been happy tears.

It’s nice not being alone. I hope you’re not alone, wherever you are. You won’t be alone for too long - I’ll be coming up before you know it, I mean, fucking hell, I’m twenty now. I think. (I still don’t know when my birthday is actually but Philza Minecraft says I’m twenty and he’s never wrong), but I hope maybe someone is with you. Maybe Wilbur? I dunno how well you’d both get on, but I think even someone is better than no one. 

Fuck me, man, this is so rambly. This is the first time I’ve spoken about you properly to anyone. Well. I guess I’m technically just speaking to myself, actually. But maybe one day when I die when I’m old like Philza you’ll see this and then you’ll think I’ve gone all soft (WHICH I’VE NOT BY THE WAY). But I just wanted to let you know that I think I’ve got my happy ending, even after fucking everything over the past few years. I think I’m finally happy. I have a family, a proper family, and I have my friends, and the server is at peace.

If you see Dream by the way, tell him I 

Hope you’re having a good time in Heaven, big man. I mean. If you got into Heaven. Coz if you didn’t and you’re in Hell then I’ve got no fucking chance. And I don’t fancy the big flaming ground pit

Does Heaven even exist?

Getting all existential again holy shit.

Anyways. I’m going for dinner at Tubbo’s (WHO HAS A KID TOO CALLED MICHAEL) and Henry’s coming in from school (we finally have a fucking education system in this place) so I’m going to leave it here. Cheers again for everything, seriously. I’m sorry things ended the way they did, and I hope you get peace, because if anyone deserves it, it’s you.

Thank you for being my brother when I needed one the most

Miss you a lot

TOMMY. (AKA Big Man, AKA Big T, AKA Biggest T.)