#but even though Wilbur and Q are still friends Wil was lonely
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Secret Santa time!! @mcyt-gt-events
My secret santa was @pixiethesizeshifter!! I absolutely fell in love with your second prompt about a borrower’s first Christmas with their human, and you were kind enough to help me with my senior project so I was really excited when I got you as my secret santa and I wanted to make it really good
fun fact i’ve actually become like really attached to this story and I can almost guarantee there will be more content for it later
also it’s like 9k words and very unedited so there is a possibility that I may post this story again in 2 parts once I’ve edited it but for rn here!! I hope you enjoys Crimeboys hurt -> comfort
tw: vore, angst ig but it’s generally very fluffy <3
Tommy had never celebrated Christmas
That’s something that Wilbur has come to learn over the past few hours. Tommy had never had a Christmas. Something that had always been a right of passage for him. Something that had formed his childhood, even if he didn’t celebrate much anymore. His family had never seen the importance of having a giant celebration, or making Wilbur believe in the Santa fantasy, or making him go to church, but it was something he looked forward to every year nonetheless. A day for food, gifts, just a day to forget about all other troubles and focus on family and love.
Tommy had never experienced that.
It made sense, if he thought about it. He’d found the poor boy in a pet store, the same place most other borrowers that were captured went. He had bought adopted Tommy after a…particularly bad break up, just after valentine’s day that February. He was just…lonely. But Tommy wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted, at the time. He was unresponsive to anything Wilbur did to bond with him for a solid month after he was bought, enough that Wilbur went back to the pet store to ask if it was ok to return the young tiny. As much as Wilbur feels guilty about that to this day, without having done that, he probably wouldn’t have grown closer to Tommy like he did.
Orphaned at a young age, Wilbur learned from the store’s cashier that Tommy had been abandoned by his colony along with many other young children and left as bait for approaching tiny hunters so the others could get away. He’d been taken away, locked in a cage, had a hole scarred through his ear for a tracker and tag and only had a third left of his tail after it had been chopped of like he was a designer dog. His family had abandoned him at 5 years old to a place that would treat him more as an animal than a person. The employee said they weren’t surprised at Wilbur’s wanting to return him, since the previous over five dozen people had done the same.
Apparently, no one had been able to properly bond with Tommy, and his month stay at Wilbur’s house had been a record for him. They said they were hoping Tommy would have finally found a home, since he had been in the store for most of his life, being traded back and forth between humans. But, if Wilbur brought Tommy back, he would hit his 10 year stay in the store, and it was policy that he’d then be put down, like any other unwanted pet. If he couldn’t get along with anyone who may want him, then he didn’t have a purpose, so why should they let him live?
Wilbur ran back home, after telling the cashier that he’d changed his mind, which turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made. He started to see Tommy for what he really was; he started treating him less like a disobedient pet and more like a scared, traumatized child.
Tommy miraculously started to open up after that. After Wilbur reassured him time and time and time again that he was safe, that he would be treated like a person, he’d never be abandoned, and that he was, above all else, loved, Tommy began to open up.
Over the past ten-ish months, Tommy had grown so, so much. Hw wasn’t perfect, Wilbur knew that he likely never would be, but that was just fine with him, as long as Tommy was happy. He and Wilbur talked, talked for hours on end about the most mundane or stupid things. Tommy also, as Wilbur soon learned, had quite a sense of humor as well. They’d laugh and joke together, and they played off each other perfectly. Tommy had a sailors mouth to rival Wil’s, and though the tiny was very on edge about using foul language and insults for a while because “pets weren’t supposed to use that kind of language” (Wilbur wanted to punch whoever told him that) even after he started to trust Wilbur, the two of them now traded lighthearted insults back and forth like it was nothing. Tom’s hair was longer and healthier, now that it had been washed and cared for properly. He has better clothes that Wilbur had ordered specially for someone his size, and his eyes were monumentally brighter now that he had felt some kind of familial love. Tommy even trusted him with an...odd bit of borrower information; apparently, they were digestion proof. How Tommy learned that he had no idea, and quite frankly he was too scared to ask. All he knew was that that information tended to come in handy whenever Tom had nightmares or was having an anxiety attack.
And most importantly, somehow, by some miracle, Tommy trusted that Wilbur wouldn’t abandon him. Wilbur had convinced the child that he was different than every other person who’d taken him in, and he was determined to be. He was determined to help make up for the childhood that Tommy had never had, to give him every experience he was robbed of because of that awful store.
So when Tommy had mentioned that every time he was bought he was returned before Christmas, and had spent the holiday in what was essentially a hamster cage, it shattered Wilbur’s heart.
Tommy had never had a day to forget about his troubles, his trauma.
Wilbur was going to fix that.
~~~
Wilbur “went to bed” earlier that night, only slightly confusing Tommy, but the borrower seemed to brush it off. He needed a game plan.
You see, Wilbur had pretty much ignored Christmas after he moved out of his dad’s house. Sure, he got his family gifts and stuff, but he’d spend most of the day holed up in his room with a pizza and whatever shitty christmas movie was playing on tv. That wasn’t gonna work. He needed something better than that. For Tommy.
He wrote out a list of everything he remembered from his childhood Christmases; opening gifts in the morning, baking cookies with his family, playing out in the snow, and drinking his Dad’s hot chocolate. He looked at his calendar; two weeks. Alright, he could do that.
First up was presents. What did Tommy like?
The first thing that came to mind was music. Tommy had been ecstatic when he learned Wilbur played guitar, and loved to listen to him any chance he got. Apparently, constant music was one of the best parts of living in a public store. It had become his escapism while he waited for the next person to come alone and buy him only to bring him back a week later. Despite this, he seemed to dislike a lot of Christmas music. Something about the same 10 songs on loop for two months being the most irritating thing in the world to him. God, and Wilbur thought retail workers had it bad, at least they didn’t have to live with the constant bombardment of shitty Michael Bublé covers. He’d keep that in mind for Christmas.
What could he do with that, though? It’s not like he could get Tommy an instrument, they were all too small. Right? Could he make one? He’d never been very crafty. He wrote it down as a possibility. What else, though?
A disc player? That could work. He could make a disc of all of Tommy’s favorite songs, and buy him a disc player. He thought Tommy would like that.
He wrote it down as he brainstormed some more. Tommy liked gardening, maybe a little indoor garden? He was also pretty active, maybe he could buy something to attach to his walls that Tom could have fun with when Wil wasn’t around to go outside with him (Tommy usually chose to stay inside unless Wilbur went out with him, though he couldn’t really blame him. Tom had always been an indoor borrower, so he didn’t know how to deal with big animals. Wilbur would be scared of finding a squirrel double his size, too). Maybe more things for Tommy’s room wouldn’t be a bad idea: a full, human size bedroom with an occupant barely a few inches tall was bound to feel a bit empty.
Wilbur continued to write ideas until one suddenly struck him; clothes. He should get Tommy more clothes. He had a pretty decent collection of t-shirts and pants, a couple of jackets thrown in there, but one thing that Wilbur realized he was missing was sweaters. Oversized, soft, ugly but comfortable sweaters, a staple of wintertime. Probably because he’d never seen them on sale before. It was hard enough to find anyone that was willing to commission clothes for a figure only a few inches tall, and harder to find someone that would make them comfortable and, y’know, wearable to a person. So what if Wilbur didn’t know how to sew or knit? He could make a few shirts. Probably. Hopefully?
A quick google search told him that was a definite no.
Ok, so maybe he can’t make shirts, but he had a plan. He just needed to call up a friend to help him.
~~
The next morning came quickly. Wilbur peeked into Tommy’s room to find the borrower still fast asleep, thankfully. Wilbur wasn’t planning on being gone too long, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to leave a note and some breakfast behind anyway letting Tommy know what was up.
With that all taken care of, he locked up his apartment and headed off to his old neighborhood, where his best friend still lived.
God, he missed her. It’s not like they lived all that far from each other, but they rarely saw each other much since they actually started to grow up. He hadn’t even seen her since her engagement party a few months prior, though her fiancé Puffy seemed like a perfect match with her. She still lived in the house she grew up in, Puffy choosing to move in with her, and it happened to just be a few doors down from Wilbur’s old house, which is precisely how they met.
He made it there after only about a half hour after taking a stop to pick her up some chocolates and a gift card as a quick thank you and early Christmas gift, and walked through the snow up to the familiar old and re-painted pink front door, knocking with a smile.
It didn’t take long for her to answer. She opened the door with a matching smile and was hugging Wilbur within seconds, her pink hair the nice strawberry scent that it had been since their childhood, bringing him a sense of deja vu. Wilbur hugged her back.
“Niki!”
~~
Tommy woke up with a yawn, stretching himself out as sunlight beamed through his windows and right into his eyes. Fuck, he should really start sleeping on a part of the bed where that couldn’t happen. Not like he didn’t have enough room, sleeping on a human sized bed. He got up and made the trek off the pillow he slept on in the center of the bed to the small table next to the headboard, only to notice a small cup of blueberries and chopped up strawberries and a note.
‘Hey Tommy! Went to go visit an old friend this morning, should be back before lunch! Love you! -your favorite big brother’
Tommy smiled as he set the note back down, taking a bite of a blueberry. What time was if anyway?
He checked the clock up on his wall; 2:34
Man, did he really sleep in that late? And wasn’t it…past lunchtime already?
He got out of bed quickly, not even bothering to get dressed before he slid off his bed and headed out into the hallway. “Wil? Wilbur?” He shouted, walking from room to room but still seeing no sign of his human. Ok, so maybe he was home alone. Wouldn’t be the first time. And of course Wilbur wasn’t obligated to spend every second of his time with Tommy. But…he said he’d be home. Wilbur wasn’t a liar. Maybe it was just taking him a while to get home. After all, maybe he was stuck in traffic, whatever that actually was. All Tommy knew was that traffic had caused him to get home late before. Plus, Tommy just woke up, he had shit to do today other than wonder where Wil was. Right. He was independent, he was fully capable of being his own person. He didn’t need Wilbur, not right now. He’d be home soon.
But what if he wasn’t?
No, he would be home soon, Tommy repeated to himself over and over, digging his palms into his eyes to stave off the tears he felt well up. He would be home soon. He trusted Wilbur.
~~
Ok, so maybe learning how to sew and knit was harder than Wilbur had thought. Niki had sat him down and taught him basic sewing patterns on a spare fabric sheet, and after stabbing himself for the twentieth time he gave up. Crocheting was surprisingly more fun for him, though. He had made a decently sized blanket for Tommy as a warm up, and he knew the tiny would love it, but he didn’t want to stop there.
As it turns out, having a best friend whose favorite hobby was crafting came in handy when you have a tiny little brother. Niki quickly started to sew some little t-shirts, leggings, and long sleeved tees with a nice, stretchy tech fabric that she had scraps from after seeing that Wilbur simply wasn’t going to pick up a needle again. Wilbur, however, kept crocheting. He managed to make a little beanie on his third attempt, and Puffy even showed up to help him learn how to make a little sweater. And make one he did. Scratch that, he made way more than one. He even made a few scarves, jackets, and even got Niki to sew a little sock for the end of Tommy’s tail since he knew the borrower was self conscious about the scars from where it was amputated.
By the time they were done, Tommy had clothes of all sorts, shapes, textures, and colors, though a lot was red and blue; his little brother’s favorite colors. A few shirts even had little logos and words from Tommy’s favorite shows after Puffy had remembered they owned a Criquet. Wilbur was absolutely beaming with joy once he gathered all the clothes into a box and started to head out.
“Thank you again for helping me, Niki. I really don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.” Wilbur smiled as he placed the box into his car. “Don’t mention it.” Niki smiled back, giving him one last hug. “Let me know what that kid thinks of them, alright?” Wilbur smiled, though a little less genuinely than before. As much as he trusted Niki, Tommy wasnt human. And though Niki was one of the sweetest people Wilbur had ever met, he didn’t know what she thought of tinies. Of Tommy. He’d tell her eventually, but…not today. For today, she was helping him make tiny clothes because the little boy he’d started babysitting loved dolls. Proper enough lie for the time being. “I’ll be sure to tell you how happy he is when he gets these. Seriously, he’s going to love them. Merry Christmas!” He finished, stepping into his car and turning it on. He watched Niki wave to him as he pulled out, and only then did he notice the sky starting to darken. Fuck. What time was it?
His dashboard read 5:46
Fuck
~~
“Tommy! I’m home!!” Tommy heard yelled from the front entrance as the door slammed open. Immediately his ears perked up. He honest to god felt like he could cry.
Wilbur was here. He was back. He hadn’t left, he was here with Tommy again.
“WIL!!” Tommy screamed as he ran for the front door, seeing Wilbur’s expression brighten as he ran closer. Wil kneeled to the ground with his hands out and let Tommy throw himself into them, barely giving the tiny any time before scooping him up and pressing him to his cheek. “I missed you! I missed you so much, sunshine, I was thinking of you the whole time I was away.” Wilbur said, running a finger up and down Tommy’s back. He knew he fucked up; Tommy hated being left alone for too long. He needed that constant reassurance that he was wanted, and Wilbur couldn’t blame him for that after what he’d gone through. “I didn’t mean to be gone that long,” Wilbur continued, “I was just catching up with someone, and I didn’t realize how long it’d been till the sun started to set.”
“‘S alright. You’re back now, yeah?” Tommy said. Wilbur nodded. “Absolutely. You hungry?” “Fucking starving.” Tommy said, pulling away from Wilbur’s cheek. “You didn’t leave me lunch and I can’t open a fridge, you prick.” “God, you’re so needy.” Wilbur scoffed as he placed Tommy on his shoulder, making his way to the fridge and getting food out for the both of them before settling down on his couch to watch something.
It wasn’t long till he and Tommy had almost fallen asleep, and Wilbur moved to bring Tommy to his room, only for the sleepy borrower to cling to his finger. “Tom you have to go to sleep.” Wilbur said, yawning as Tommy shook his head. “No, fuck you, you left me alone all day you owe me cuddles.” He slurred, half asleep. Wilbur sighed, having seen this coming. “Do I know what you mean by ‘cuddles’ or are you being normal for once?” “Which do you think, bitch?”
Wilbur rolled his eyes and lifted Tommy higher to his face as he moved to sit on the tiny’s bed. To be fair to Tommy, though he as a normal human found this a bit weird, it seemed to help his little brother tremendously when he felt insecure. And he really would do anything for Tommy.
With that thought, he lifted the borrower up to his mouth, immediately feeling Tommy trying to weakly pry his lips open in his groggy state. He laughed softly as he opened his mouth and Tommy almost immediately fell forward, loosing his perch on the lips and tumbling straight onto Wilbur’s tongue. He felt the tiny relax as he slowly closed his mouth, making sure Tommy was fully inside. He felt and heard Tommy giggle as Wilbur licked him, quickly slicking him up and tasting him. Tommy’s weirdly good taste always surprised Wilbur less, even after they’d done this plenty of times. He didn’t know why he tasted good, or if it was only Tommy or every other tiny as well, but he wasn’t too concerned about it.
He felt a weak pat to the top of his mouth and took that as his cue to swallow, given that Tommy probably wanted to go to sleep. He could understand that, he was tired as well. He lifted his head up slightly, gently swallowing and tracing his little brothers descent with one hand. He laid back onto the bed as he felt Tommy enter his stomach, but he panicked a little when he didn’t feel him move around or get himself comfortable or anything. Wilbur propped himself up with one arm and pressed gently onto his midsection with his other, trying to feel if anything was wrong.
“Tommy?” he whispered. “You alright in there?” He sucked in his breath a bit and went quiet, now starting to register the calm, steady breaths from under his skin and the faint sound of snoring. Man, Tommy must have been really tired then. “Goodnight, Toms” Wilbur whispered quieter than before, lying back down. He released the pressure on his belly but still keeping a hand over it, rubbing it gently as sleep hit him as well
~~
Ok. It had taken a week, but all of Tommy’s clothes were wrapped and the smaller-than-average-and-therefore-useable-to-Tommy sized disc player that he ordered had come in, so everything was going well. Sure, he was staying up later to get everything done and make sure Tommy wasn’t catching on and was spending more time in his room hiding anything that could spoil the surprise from his little brother, but he was fine. Phil did it every year for him and Techno, he was fine. He was fine. He just had to get everything else done before Christmas. He could do this.
He just needed a bit more help.
~~
Tommy was fine. Really, he was fine. It’s just that Wilbur had been avoiding him for the last week and he had no fucking idea why. And it’s not even like he hadn’t been home, he just been locked in his room. Every time Tommy went to talk to him, he’d always look to guilty and scared, and he’d say something cryptic, hang out with Tommy for ten minutes, then run back to his room.
Had..had he done something wrong? Was Wilbur mad? Did he just want to be away from Tommy? Was he really that hard to like?
No, no… Wilbur wasn’t like that. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Wilbur cared about him, Wilbur loved him. Tommy couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make Wilbur mad at him, so it all had to be in his own head. Wilbur wanted him, and wanted to be around him.
Tommy heard footsteps.
He turned to the entryway and saw Wilbur zipping up a coat and pulling a beanie over his head, getting ready to leave. Without saying goodbye.
“…Wil?” Tommy asked, and immediately the human’s head snapped towards him, eyes widening in surprise. “Toms!” Wilbur smiled awkwardly. “I, uh..I didn’t know you were out here.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight back and forth impatiently. Tommy stared. “Where are you going?” “Just to see someone again. This time of year, man, everyone wants to get together!” He forced out a laugh, but Tommy didn’t budge. Wilbur sighed. “I’ll be back soon, ok? As soon as I can be.” He said, pulling the door open and taking a step out. “I love you.” Tommy didn’t answer as he left and the door closed behind him, the car starting up moments later.
Tommy couldn’t help it. Silent tears fell down his cheeks as he cried, his face frozen and expressionless as he tried to process what he was feeling. The first time Wilbur had left his room of his own volition in days and it was to leave Tommy alone. Again. Wilbur had never acted that way towards Tommy, either. Tommy had never seen him so desperate to leave a conversation.
Maybe he had gotten too used to being cared for constantly. Maybe it was bound to end up like this. Or maybe he was too spoiled. After all, this was still leagues better than he’d ever been treated. Wilbur wasn’t hurting him, or treating him like a lower life form. He was just…giving him less attention.
God, what was wrong with him? Wilbur wasn’t doing anything wrong, it was Tommy, just like it always had been. It was his skewed perception of family and his constant nagging need for attention that drove people away, Wilbur had every right to not like him. To ignore him. To send him back, if he really wanted.
How had Wilbur turned into his everything? He never formed any sort of attachment before. Hell, even in his colony, he was the orphan that no one wanted. Yet somehow Wilbur had made him desperately dependent on a family. On a human, nonetheless. And he loved it. And hated it. He loved Wilbur, his family, and he loved that after all this time he could finally love enough again to the point he could consider someone a brother to him, but he hated that Wilbur held his tiny, fragile, broken and haphazardly glued back together heart in his giant hands.
He hated that part.
~~
The drive to Phil’s had taken a little bit longer than expected, but he wasn’t gonna speed there with ice in the roads. He had been greeted in by his other little brother (technically his twin brother, but Wilbur was born first and he’d never let Techno forget it), who was staying over for the holidays so he could meet with his nerdy book club or something. His father was also beyond excited to see him, despite Wilbur having called to make sure they had time to see him a week before Christmas, it seemed like Phil was surprised he showed up all the same.
“It’s been too long, mate.” Phil said, wrapping his eldest son in a hug. “You never stop by anymore.” “I know, I know, I’m a horrible son.” Wilbur laughed as he leaned out of the hug. “I just really need your help with something.” “What’s up?” “Well, this is going to sound odd, but do you remember on Christmas when Tech and I were kids and we’d all make cookies and you’d make hot chocolate?” Phil laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Of course I do. It was one of your favorite parts of the holidays. What about it?” “Could you give me the recipes?” “How come?”
Wilbur sighed. Phil knew about Tommy, he just…didn’t know exactly what Tommy was to Wilbur. Phil still thought of tinies as pets, which was why they’d still never met, and Wilbur really didn’t have the time to explain how wrong that was. Besides, Phil never seemed to look down on Tommy. He could even temporarily forget what Phil thought of Tommy most of the time, until he said something a little out of pocket that would bring the illusion crashing back down. “It’s just…it’s that borrower I adopted a while ago.” Phil smiled and laughed. “Right, I remember you telling me about it him! How is the little guy?” “He’s well!” Wilbur said, ignoring how using ‘little guy’ to describe a teenager rubbed him the wrong way.
“It’s just, he’s never had a Christmas before. I’m his first real family, and I want him to give him as good a Christmas as I had as a kid.” “Aw, mate, that’s so sweet! Of course I’ll help you! But where’s the fun in just giving you the recipes, hm?” “Whats that supposed to mean?” Wil asked, but Phil was already walking past him, going to the staircase that led to Techno’s room. “Techno! Get down here, we’re making cookies!” “Dad, I really should get home as soon as possible.” Wil argued, looking up at a nearby clock. 12:08. He’d left Tommy alone with no better reason than an awkward excuse at around 11:25 in the morning. He should really try to be home soon. “Don’t worry, Wil, this won’t take long. We haven’t bonded like a family in forever, either. You want to learn how to make these, right?” Wilbur sighed.
He could tell how much this meant to Phil. After all, his father wasn’t wrong. It had been a while since it was just the three of them hanging out together. Techno came down the stairs and Wilbur could tell how happy his brother seemed when he saw Phil pulling out all the cookie ingredients, even if to the untrained eye Techno still looked pretty stoic. He sighed. “Fine, but I can’t stay for more than an hour. I really do need to get home.” Wilbur relented, taking off his coat and throwing it over a kitchen chair. “How do we do this?”
…
It was 8:30. Godammit, how did he even manage to do that?
He’d just gotten so distracted with his family. Sue him, he missed them. Techno was always busy doing..whatever Techno did, usually fencing tournaments, and Wilbur rarely had the time to visit either. He really had missed being around his family.
And he really had meant to just leave as soon as the cookies were done. He’d even written down every ingredient and instruction as they made the cookies so he could go as soon as they were done and he could verify that they were the same they’d been in his childhood. But then Phil saw the list and walked Wilbur through every step in more detail, making sure to add little details like exactly how long an ingredient should be refrigerated before being added to the mix, and specific brands that would make all the difference in the cookies. And he had to admit that it did work. Plus, he still wanted that hot chocolate recipe, so Phil ended up writing all the ins and outs of that as well, along with making 3 cups of it.
Then he almost left but then he remembered Techno had a cd burner in his room and he really wanted to make Tommy something for his cd player. He ended up making multiple cds, some of Tommy’s favorite videos game soundtracks (he debated making one that would just loop The Able Sisters, but decided against it since it would drive him absolutely fucking insane), some of his favorite normal songs, theater music (including a separate disk for the entire Hamilton soundtrack, he didn’t care if that was illegal), and, the one he thought would mean most, a cd of his songs. The songs that he had written, that were mostly just his own voice and a guitar. He wasn’t sure if Tommy knew, but Wilbur always took special note of the songs Tommy liked. He worked the hardest on those, always being sure to ask for Tommy’s input and suggestions, and those were the songs that had the most effort put into them.
Techno and Phil hadn’t heard these songs. It had been so long since Wilbur had played his music for his dad and brother, of course they’d wanted to see what he’d been working on. So, he’d shown them. And he forgot he had a back up guitar at his Dad’s house, so he played them some of the songs he’d been working on. He did tell them that some of the songs were for Tommy, and Techno actually surprised him a bit when after Phil had got up to do something, he held Wilbur up and excused himself to grab something from his room, returning with a small cow keychain.
“What’s that?” Wilbur asked, taking the toy as Technoblade gently tossed it into his hands. “Just a cow. I don’t have much use for it, it came free with one of my online sword orders, so I thought maybe your borrower would like it. He is a kid, right?” Wilbur looked wide eyed and nodded, mindlessly fiddling with the stuffed cow in his hands. Technoblade smiled. “You mentioned it was his first Christmas, figured it would be nice to give him something. Plus, borrowers need ‘stimulus’ or something and I know they’re supposed to have, like, pet toys, but I think every little kid needs a plain old fashioned stuffed animal. I mean, he’s important to you, so he’s important to me, you know?”
Wilbur was actually speechless. Techno was never that outwardly thoughtful, he always had an issue expressing how he cared about people. Even though Wilbur was pretty sure Techno still saw borrowers as pets, he’d gone out of his way for Tommy. This…must have been really important to him. Tommy, who he’d never even met but had heard Wilbur gush about on the phone for hours, was important to him. He took a moment to wipe unshed tears from his eyes as he hugged his brother. “That means more to me than you know. And he’ll love this, genuinely. Funny enough, he has a weird love of cows.” Wilbur felt Techno laugh into his shoulder. “Send me a picture or something of him with it. And Phil and I want to meet the kid someday, remember?” “You will, I promise. Someday.” Wilbur smiled.
And before he knew it it was night, and Tommy had been left alone. Again.
He was a horrible brother, wasn’t he?
~~
He snuck into the house at around 9:10 at night, after the long drive home. He wasn’t sure if Tommy was asleep or not, but he wanted to be quiet all the same just in case. He didn’t see him anywhere at first, but he did notice the light in his room was off.
Wilbur creaked the door more open slightly, and saw a small figure under a blanket in the center of the bed. Ah, so Tommy had gone to bed early. He closed the door back to its neutral position of only slightly open (since Tommy couldn’t reach the doorknob). He had some cd cases to add designs to and wrap.
Had he taken a closer look, he may have noticed the minute shaking from under the blanket, or heard the sniffling of the tiny’s cries.
~~
Christmas Eve.
At least, that’s what all the calendars said. It meant fuck all to Tommy. All he’d ever associated Christmas with was obnoxious songs on the store radio (seriously, fuck those, if he ever had to hear any version of “Last Christmas” again, he’d scream), shiny decorations on the shelves, and parents coming in to buy their children mice or fish as a cheap replacement of the puppy their toddler had said they wanted. He’d been picked up a few times by those parents, thinking he’d be a good fit for their child, but he learned pretty quickly how to avoid being bought by those kinds of people. Parents didn’t want a pet that would curse at and bite their children. The only thing he actually enjoyed was that on Christmas day, the store was closed. No lights, no music, no crusty little kids or asshole employees. Just silence and peace for one day. Still alone, but alone with less of a reminder of where he was, what he was seen as, and how unwanted he’d been for so long.
But he didn’t have to worry about that this year. He’d found his forever home. At least, he hoped he did. He’d never had a reason to doubt that before.
But it had been two weeks. Two. Weeks. And Wilbur wasn’t around as much anymore.
For two weeks he’d been stalking around the house avoiding Tommy, leaving for hours on end and giving some bullshit excuse he made on the spot. Tommy wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t know why. What had he done to push Wilbur away?
Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Wilbur had always pushed Tommy to think for himself, to stand up for himself. He’d told Tommy his treatment at the store had been wrong. He’d told Tommy before that he had a habit of just letting himself be treated poorly. Back in the early days of his and Wil’s relationship, he’d let Wil just push him around. He’d go days without eating if Wil forgot to leave food for him, and he’d let himself be flung around like a ragdoll, content with the bruises. He never cared what happened to him. He’d never been wanted, he always assumed he was just not good enough. He wasn’t worth anything, why should he care about himself when no one else did?
Wilbur changed that. He changed all of it. He loved him. He made Tommy feel like he was worth something, godammit. What was the point of that if Wilbur was just going to throw him away? What kind of cruel, suck joke would it have been if Wilbur cared about him so much for all this time only to forget and abandon him now.
Fuck this. Fuck Wilbur. Fuck him for making Tommy feel like he was worth something, and fuck that he’d taught Tommy how to care about himself.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d stand up for himself. Tomorrow he’d ask Wilbur…well, he wasn’t sure yet. But he had till tomorrow to think of something to say. Something to verbally sort out how hurt and sad and confused he’d felt.
Tomorrow.
~~
Tomorrow.
God, Wilbur was so excited he could hardly wait.
Tommy had spent most of the day in his room already, but Wilbur had gone in for a minute to drop off his breakfast and lunch just to ensure that Tommy didn’t have to leave. He needed the rest of the apartment empty.
Time to decorate.
He had a few bins of Christmas decorations that he’d bought from the dollar tree over the years, not much, but enough. He had a pretty basic tree, but it was more than enough to put Tommy’s gifts under.
He was proud of himself. Sure, he felt awful about not being home, and he hadn’t slept this little since his high school finals, but he was proud of himself. Tommy would love this.
Along with the clothes, the cow (that Wilbur had removed the bulky clip from), cd player, and cds, Wil had bought a bunch of supplies to make a decently sized parkour park for Tommy’s room and had made a big custom terrarium. Granted, neither of these were finished; the wood for the park was too rough to grab without splinters and the terrarium was mostly just a bunch of connected boxes filled with dirt (and a small buried fish bowl that functioned as as in ground pool to Tommy, Wilbur was pretty proud of that one), but he wanted Tommy to have some part in these things. They’d still be surprises, but after Christmas he’d get to pick how the park was set up and what colors it was, and he’s get to pick out what plants went in the terrarium, though Wilbur had already bought a couple of bigger Bonsai’s and made a small swing to hang from one of them. He knew Tommy would love these. He knew Tommy would love all of it.
He was going to give his little brother the best Christmas ever.
~~
Tommy hadn’t slept much. He was too worried about what to say. What could he say? Should he just wait a bit longer to say anything? Maybe Wilbur was just having a rough time with…something. Tommy wasn’t his only priority, after all.
No, fuck that. It’d been two weeks. If Wilbur really was having a hard time, he’d have said something. He’d have assured Tommy it wasn’t his fault, like he always did. Wilbur always reassured Tommy. Tommy’s well-being was always at the forefront of his mind, and he truly believed that; that’s one of the reasons he grew to trust the man so much. And if Wilbur was having a hard time? Tommy would find out. He just had to talk to him. He just had to suck it up and talk to-
His thoughts were cut off by the door opening more, his head snapping to the entrance as he heard an excited gasp. The lights were flicked on, and there in the doorway was Wilbur; Christmas pjs on, hair a mess, and bags under his eyes. By all means he looked tired, he looked fucking exhausted, but somehow only physically. Tommy took a minute to look at his expression and realized he hadn’t seen his human this happy in weeks, or, hell, ever. Wilbur looked ecstatic.
“Tommy!!” Wilbur yelled rushing forward and scooping the tiny into his hands, holding him against his cheek for a moment before pulling back and holding him at eye level. “Are you excited?” Tommy was speechless. Utterly fucking speechless. This was…now how he expected today to start. “…for what..?” Tommy asked, and that seemed to be just the question Wilbur was looking for. “For Christmas! It’s Christmas, Tommy!” “…yay?” Tommy said, still unsure of what to make of Wilbur’s sudden shift in attitude. But Wilbur just laughed and moved his hand a bit lower, beginning to walk out of the room. “C’mon, there’s something we have to take care of.”
Tommy could’ve sworn his heart stopped in that moment. ‘Please don’t be taking me away,’ he pleaded in his own head, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his whole body. He felt himself start to shake as he tried not to cry out loud. ‘Please don’t be preparing to pack me away and send me back to that fucking store. I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it again, not after all this. Not after you. Us. Please, please, don’t abandon me. Please, please, plea-‘ “Tommy?” Wilbur asked, stroking a thumb down Tommy’s back, the familiar gesture helping immensely. Tommy cracked an eye open, turning back to look up at Wilbur. He only focused on Wilbur’s confusion and pity for a moment before something else caught his eye. Lights. Strings of lights lining the ceiling borders around the room. He followed the strands paths and realized they spread out into the next room, the living room, so he turned to see where they led.
He gasped.
A tree stood in the back corner of the room, giant and shiny and glowing. It was gorgeous. The room itself was decked out as well, green, red, silver, and gold tinsel hung off every surface, and christmas patterned blankets lined the couches. A fake fireplace video played on the tv as peaceful jazz renditions of Christmas tunes played quietly in the background. Most shockingly, under the tree, there were stacks of gifts of all varying sizes and wrapping papers, and some were even taller than he was!
“Do you like it?” Tommy turned back, seeing the hope in Wilbur’s eyes. He couldn’t help it. He just burst out crying, burying himself in Wilbur’s chest as soon as his big brother pulled him in closer.
“Woah, woah, Tommy, what is it, are you ok??” “I- I th- I thought-“ Tommy could barely bring himself to speak, his breath hiccuping with every sob. “Shush, shh, sh, it’s ok, Toms, you’re ok. Everything is fine. I’m here for you, ok?” Tommy felt large, gentle fingers down his back, and he fell back into a normal breathing rhythm. This was Wilbur. This was the Wilbur he’d missed. His brother was still here.
“…you did all this for me?” Tommy whispered, not lifting his head from Wilbur’s chest. “Of course! I had to give my little brother the best Christmas ever, of course.” He could hear the pride and excitement in Wilbur’s voice. “Took a bit of work, but I think you’ll love it. You wanna open some presents?” “They’re all for me?!” “Of course!” Wilbur beamed, bringing Tommy closer to the tree and setting him right in front of his presents. Tommy sniffled and wiped his eyes, nodding. “I didn’t get anything for you, though.” “And that’s alright,” Wilbur said, sitting down behind Tommy and leaning down to be closer to his level. “I didn’t expect you to. This is your first proper Christmas. Today is about you.” Wilbur finished, reaching behind the tiny to pick up a smaller present and hand it off to him.
Tommy took it carefully, as if he’d simply break it by holding it. The package was about the size of his torso, and was very light and squishy. The weirdest part of it was the tag, though. From…
“Technoblade..?” Tommy asked aloud, and Wilbur’s smile grew. “My twin. I saw him a few days ago and he wanted you to have this.” Tommy stared up at Wilbur, confused. “Did you tell him to get me something?” “Nope.” Wilbur said, popping the p at the end as Tommy took in what he was saying. Wilbur’s other brother thought of him? He knew the technical rest of his family didn’t really view him as a person, but…Techno had thought of him. And wanted to give him a gift. People didn’t do that for pets, did they?
Tommy began to carefully unwrap the paper around it before Wil told him he could just rip it up. That seemed a lot more fun, so he did, and he found a soft, squishy stuffed cow with little button eyes looking back up at him. Wilbur’s brother…knew his favorite animal? Tommy looked at it for a bit longer. It was a stuffed animal, just like other normal kids had. His size. It was practically made for him. Tommy just sat, taking the time to process it when he noticed a camera on him. He looked up with confusion and Wilbur laughed lightly.
“Techno wanted to know what you thought of it. You like it?” Tommy looked back at it before grinning widely. “Like it? I love it” He yelled, squeezing the cow to his chest. “Look at it, look at it, Wil! It’s amazing! She’s gorgeous. Her name is Henry. I will love her for the rest of time, I have never seen anything so fantastic in my life-“ He heard Wilbur laugh as he continued to rant. He heard a quick whisper of “I think he likes it” from Wilbur before the camera was set down. “Well, what do you say you open some more?”
~~
Wilbur hadn’t been disappointed by Tommy’s reactions to his gifts.
They started with clothes, which Tommy was somewhat skeptical about (probably cause he’d been through his fair share of clothes that Wilbur ordered that didn’t fit), but after learning that Wilbur had recruited his friends to make them specially for him and he’d even learned how to crochet to make some of the clothes himself, he was far more excited to open them. Tommy literally cried when he opened the first sweater Wilbur had made him. Wilbur forgot that Tommy had never owned a warm knitted sweater, apparently Tommy hadn’t even known that clothes could be made that soft. Needless to say he put it on immediately, as Wilbur couldn’t help the pride he felt. He was actually a bit shocked at some of Tommy’s reactions to things, given that he’d been severely confused by the idea of tech fabric and he didn’t know what to do with the scarves at first either. He was very excited to pull out a shirt with the Hamilton logo printed on it, though.
Next up had been the parkour wood, which Tommy hadn’t really understood until Wilbur drew out what he thought it should look like in the tiny’s room. Then Tommy spent the next 30 minutes drawing what he thought it should look like, and it became a collective effort to make it as cool as possible. Tommy also decided that it definitely needed to be painted red and definitely also needed flame decals. Wilbur could agree with that.
The next thing was the garden, and Tommy almost immediately wanted to get in the “pool” section of it, now that he knew he owned swim shorts (Wilbur really needed to get Niki something to thank her for this, she was a saint), but Wilbur convinced him to at least wait until presents where done. He told Tommy that as long as he was really careful, he’d take him to the store to buy whatever plants he wanted for the garden, and he knew that to Tommy, that was a present in itself. Tommy didn’t get to go to public places very often, but he loved it. Tommy literally gasped as he saw the bonsai swing, and started to talk about what he wanted the garden to look like; what plants, maybe small tiling, maybe even little benches. Wilbur just lightly pushed Tommy back and forth and listened.
The last gift he gave Tommy was the cd player and the disks. Those were the most personal to him, and he thought that Tommy would find them the most meaningful. He was soon proved right.
Tommy opened the Hamilton one first, and was ecstatic, his joy only rivaled by the next two, the more personal ones of all his favorite songs and soundtrack music that Wilbur had known. And as if Tommy hadn’t done enough crying today, he cried when he opened the cd of Wilbur’s own music. The songs that Tommy had loved, so Wilbur had made them even better for him. Tommy immediately popped that one into the cd player.
~~
Wilbur’s music continued to play out over the speaker as he and Tommy made cookies on the stove. As much as Wilbur wanted the cookies to be as good as Phil’s, Tommy was impatient as fuck and also a major kitchen menace. He had sit still long enough for Wilbur to properly make a decent bit of hot chocolate, but after that started to cool and he started making cookies, Tommy apparently just…couldn’t sit still any longer. He was a little bit helpful, but he couldn’t really help with most of the ingredients, so he ended up just getting covered in them and had also started using Wilbur as a jungle gym, making him mess up as well.
Wilbur put up with it until Tommy managed to hurl himself into the bowl of cookie dough. The human didn’t feel like taking Tommy all the way over to the sink, so he did what any rational person would do and just stuffed Tommy in his mouth, ignoring the profanities and screeches from the tiny. And if he “forgot” to let Tommy out until the cookies were in the over and the ingredients were put away, it was totally on accident.
By the end of the day, they were both sat on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate being shared between the two of them, watching some awful Christmas movie. Wilbur had tried to put on one of the ones he watched as a kid, but Tommy quickly proved too terrified of stop motion to keep them playing for long. So, they ended up just watching whatever came up on their tv, not that either of them were really paying attention, to caught up with everything that had happened all day. Tommy curled up into the side of Wilbur’s neck, pressed between a turtleneck sweater and warm skin, with Wilbur lifting the hot chocolate up to him to take sips from (coffee stirring straws were a blessing for that), fully content to just lay there forever. Even when Wilbur went to retrieve the cookies from the oven and started to break pieces off for Tommy after they cooled, he stayed right where he was.
“Y’know, Wil…” Tommy said after they had made their way back to the couch, bringing the plate of warm cookies with them. “You had me scared for a bit.” Wilbur hummed in confusion, unable to talk past the cookie in his mouth. Tommy sighed. “You just…I dont even know, really, you just kept…disappearing.” The tiny laughed shallowly. “I know it’s dumb, I know you better than to think you’d ever…yeah. I just…you went out of your way to ignore me. And, I get that now, I know why, I just…never mind, it’s stupid, I know what you were doing I just-“ “It’s not stupid.” Wilbur interrupted, lifting a hand to lay over Tommy. “Don’t ever try and invalidate your feelings like that. I…I know I fucked up. I just got…I got so worked up over making everything perfect for you. I was so focused on how you’d feel today that I ignored how you felt for the last two weeks, I don’t have an excuse for that. I’m so, so sorry, sunshine.”
God, Tommy really wasn’t gonna cry again. He didn’t want to cry this much on his first Christmas. He just felt…so much relief. He could feel an almost physical weight lift off his chest as Wilbur spoke. He had said exactly what Tommy wanted to hear, and he could tell that his big brother had meant every word. “Thank you. For..for apologizing. It’s ok, really, it is, you just know how I get sometimes.” Tommy looked down, and he felt Wilbur tilt his head towards him, squishing him farther into the neck and giving him a sideways hug of sorts. “And..and I know that you didn’t take me in just to have to spend every second with me, you have a life, too, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
“And you’re part of my life. I love you, Toms, and I love to be around you. And I will never be offended by your fear that I may leave. That’s a recent trauma for you, no one said you had to get over that quickly. I’ll be here every day to make sure that having a proper, loving home becomes your new normal. I’ve become emotionally dependent on you, gremlin, you will never be able to get rid of me now.” Wilbur said, finishing by pressing his cheek against the boy, who only giggled and leaned farther into it it. “Thanks, Wilby.”
The two of them sat like that the rest of their movie, content to just be in each others company until Wilbur reached down to grab the hot (well, maybe now just warm) chocolate. Wilbur was a bit confused when Tommy took off the big sweater he was wearing, just leaving his tank top underneath, but that quickly turned to confusion when Tommy fell forwards into the mug. Wilbur panicked and quickly brought the cup up higher, seeing Tommy surface from the sweet liquid and start laughing. “Fuck, Tommy, are you ok, what the fuck was that?!” But Tommy only laughed harder. “You ignored me for two weeks, let me have this. Besides, don’t you wanna finish your hot chocolate?”
Wilbur scoffed and brought the cup up higher. “You’re lucky I love you.” Was the only warning Tommy got before Wilbur tipped the mug up and Tommy tumbled out of it with a yell, hot chocolate following behind him as Wilbur swallowed quickly. He felt Tommy squirm down his throat, hitting against the muscles around him but not trying to cause any real damage. Wilbur felt warmth bloom in his core as Tommy finally dropped into the stomach, along with the rest of the warm liquid. Wilbur pressed a hand onto his belly and felt Tommy press back. “You’re not gonna drown in there, are you?” “Nah,” Tommy said as Wilbur felt him flop back into the hot chocolate, making his stomach rumble. “It comes up just above my waist, I’m good. Now don’t move around to much, your stomach making noise shook me enough.” “Oh? You mean like…this!” Wilbur said, standing up only to flip back onto the couch face down, hearing Tommy scream and start laughing, and Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Yes like that you bitch!! Get up you’re squishing me!!” Tommy yelled playfully, smacking the muscles around him. Wilbur rolled back over onto his back, breathless from laughing. He felt Tommy start to rub at the muscles around him and went limp, the internal massage making his muscles melt. “Merry Christmas, Wilbur.”
Wilbur could have cried in that moment. He didn’t deserve this kid. This little boy who’d made him happier than he’d been in years, who put faith in him after so many failed attempts at family, who even trusted him to hold his life within him. Maybe later there would be more mishaps, more misunderstandings. Maybe Wilbur would mess up again, and Tommy would start to lose that faith. But Wilbur would do anything for Tommy, and he’d have all the patience in the world for him to heal and grow, and he’d grow with him. They could grow together. But that was all for the future. For now, they’d be busy planting a garden, building a parkour course, playing music, and whatever else they could think to do. Together.
Wilbur smiled and rubbed back at where he felt his little brother.
“Merry Christmas, Tommy.”
#I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS PIXIE!#crimeboys my absolute beloveds#i couldn’t decide on who to write this about but crimeboys have full control on my writing abilities#i need to like actually check spelling and stuff but now right now :D#i’ll probably be going back in later and adding italics later cause i do that a lot#anyway happy Christmas Eve to all who celebrate!!#I woke up at 12:30 pm today!#im thriving#cyncerity#mcyt g/t#mcyt gt#cynwrites#mcyt g/t secret santa#btw if the ‘particularly bad breakup’ bit seems odd#tntduo#it’s meant to be tnt duo#forgot to specify that#it was a clean breakup and Q went to date the Sapnap and Karl#but even though Wilbur and Q are still friends Wil was lonely#Home Home au
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Day 3: Dunk with a bit of comfort
damn I know this is a super unrealistic portrayal of being drunk and also does NOT deliver on what it says it is, but enjoy! The challenge of doing this quick was fun. I should do more prompt things.
-
Don’t go looking to your ex-lover for comfort just because you got drunk. You shouldn’t need him. You don’t. You just want him. That might be worse. Is that worse? You’re not sure.
The scene: Late night in the middle of June, maybe going to drizzle, who knows. The sun is long down, the sky black. It’s a bit cold, for the summer. Deserts as well as deserts-that-aren’t will do that to you.
He worked all day and stayed up late doing nothing, barely tired, starting drinking to fill the time. F*ck, Quackity’s an emotional drunk, he never wanted to be like this, like Schlatt. He starts crying a bit, wipes his eyes, eventually stops. Prime, how late is it? He’s not going to be like Schlatt. He refuses to. He’ll run his nation well and he’s never treat his— f*ck, he’s alone. So alone.
The lover: Wilbur is alone. No, he’s lonely. Tommy will hang out with him all day, and their friends, brothers, and he’s got Ranboo, who actually seems to care about him? And everybody else too, but somehow, he’s still f*cking lonely.
If only he could sleep. Maybe then he would stop feeling like this. He just can’t, tonight. At least he did okay for the past few days; it’s unlikely he’ll pass out tomorrow. (Tommy hated it. Thought he’d straight up kneeled over and died. He said he was sorry but it wasn’t enough. Tommy gave him sleepy tea when Wilbur awoke to explain. He drinks it. Every night; Tommy always checks his stash and refills it. Some nights, like tonight, when his brain won’t shut off, it just doesn't cut it.)
His thoughts turn, as they often do, to Quackity. Quackity, whose face is still perfect after everything that happened while he was away, who has He wonders how he’s doing on a night like this. He wonders what he’s doing right now.
He wonders if Quackity keeps anything good behind that quartz bar. Wilbur does not have any alcohol because Wilbur has barely anything at all. What time is it? Late enough. It should be easy enough to sneak or break in and take some.
He gets out of bed and creeps to the city. The Las Nevadas lights flicker.
The drink: Imported from some place that doesn’t exist, vintage that’s probably years before it was made. Tastes good though. Looks classy, but not too fancy. Kind of thing that divorced women and widows love. Anyone who’s lost love, really, tragically. You.
He wants to find Wilbur.
He pushes the glass across the counter and considers pouring just a little more out. He taps the bottle to hear the sound it makes.
And that’s when Wilbur Soot walks in like he owns the place.
The night: starts to look up. “Quackity!” His face lights up. “How fortunate to find you here!”
Q doesn’t have the energy to tell him to leave, just moves his shoulders awkwardly in something that’s neither a shrug nor turning away fully. He puts his head down on the table.
“So!” Wilbur claps. Quackity winces. “What keeps you up this late?”
Wilbur turned on the lights when he came in. “Dim the lights,” he says. They hurt his eyes.
He shakes his head, but walks over to the switch. “So rude, aren’t you happy to see me?”
Much better on his eyes. He raises his head and looks at Wilbur dead on for the first time. Same f*cking bastard, recognizable even in the dim lighting. What is in him to make him so perky at this hour? I wish you weren’t a perfect tragedy. “You’ve got such nice hair, Wil. And eyes, let me see your eyes.”
Wilbur walks back over to the bar and asks, “Are you drunk?” He leans closer, reading the expression on Quackity’s face and his situation. “Are you— are you lonely? If you are, that’s great, because I am too!”
“Yeah.” He says it simply. “Lonely.” He closes his eyes.
Absolutely drunk. “Oh, Big Q, let’s get you to bed.” He lifts his hair up, as if to check for a fever or something — who knows what goes on behind the pretty face — and Quackity feels his cheek flush from more than the alcohol.
The walk home: It’s filled with little stumbles and sways. The streetlights dance. He giggles.
“You know,” Quackity carefully speaks his words through his drunkenness, “I’m legally not allowed to consent right now. Otherwise I would kiss you. Well, ask you to.” He looks up at Wilbur, through dark eyelashes, and Wilbur’s breath catches in his throat.
His hand not supporting Quackity flies to his mouth. “Oh! Big Q, we must continue this conversation in the morning.”
Quackity vaguely feels like he’s said something he didn’t want to, but he pushes the idea off. Wilbur is holding him, so clearly everything is right in the world. “Oh,” Wilbur says, “I don’t actually know where to put you.”
“That one,” Quackity says, simultaneously trying to gesture to a door and the pocket holding his key. He manages to get it out but drops it. Wilbur picks it up.
Home: He pushes Q inside and gently places him on the sofa. “‘m sick,” he protests.
“What?” Wilbur had started to go get some water, but turns around.
“Gonna be sick,” he clarifies, and he stumbles off the couch. Wilbur follows him to the bathroom. It’s a shiny, white place, and he feels out of place in it, his oily skin and dirty clothes.
When Quackity kneels in front of the toilet, Wilbur holds back the hair that almost gets in his mouth.
He would focus on the touch if he weren’t already focusing on the nausea and its consequences. He mumbles something when he’s done, too distorted to be understood. Thanks pretty boy.
“Remember to wash out your mouth,” he says. Q nods and does so, movements shaky. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
He points in the right direction and Wilbur supports him along. He pulls open the covers of the neatly made bed and helps Q into it. He turns to leave.
But. “Stay.”
So he does. It’s a very soft bed. He lies down just far away enough that it’s easy to pretend there isn’t another warm body in there, but Quackity moves over and clings to him.
In all honesty, Wilbur isn’t used to the warmth and it makes him a bit uncomfortable, but it’s Quackity and for a moment he doesn’t feel so terribly alone and romantically unfulfilled.
He sleeps well, that night.
After: You hate yourself the next morning, but he doesn't hate you. He didn’t leave. You don’t tell him to get out. Four in the afternoon. “Goddamnit, Wilbur, are you gonna kiss me or not? I see you look like that and you know how I feel, man.”
#tntduo pride week 2022#throwing up bit inspired by A Higher Power by Jens Lekman which is absolutel a tntduo song#tntduo#tnt duo#tntduo fic#c!quackbur#don't plan to post this on ao3 but maybe will if i do fics for remaing prompts#wilbur dream smp#c!quackity#drunk cw#alcohol cw#I said this#kinda uses the style of a fic i tired to write. four? years ago ahah#my writing
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Okay, now that someone has asked about Neil and Wil, I gotta ask about how you think Wilbur and Franny are as mother and son? After all, Franny is most likely fairly famous and busy herself what with the singing frogs and all.
Oooo GOOD Q, FRIEND. Currently listening to jazz as I figure out how to answer it. (Edit: Kidding. I got tired of the jazz after a bit…)
Also note that apparently readmores do not work in asks. Oop. 😦👎 If need be, scroll down to the TLDR.
First of all I’d say that Wilbur is definitely a momma’s boy. Though he doesn’t have a preference for either parent over another, one can assume his relationship with Franny is very… straightforward. If only because we know even less about her than Cornelius. The benefit with Franny though is that we see her, as a mom, interact with Wilbur quite a bit.
The writers were clearly angling for a sentimental cool mom factor and in her introductory frog orchestra scene, she comes off as an idyllic mother: fun, weird, energetic, patient, and nonjudgemental. This is probably her good side that comes out especially around guests. The whole adopting Lewis thing has many possible explanations, one of which is that she just likes kids.
How she acts around Wilbur, esp as he gets older, is more casual. She’s often teasing him with punishments knowing his tendency to push the envelope. On a deeper level, this is her way of establishing boundaries but it’s ultimately one step above playful banter.
She’s vvvv openly affectionate towards Wilbur and to a degree Lewis (and presumably to most others as well). Re: Carpet Scene***, she teases Wilbur and jokes around w him and babies him and is never above play acting with him. That she doesn’t question Wilbur’s convoluted scheme to improve Lewis’ self-esteem is a real character-defining moment. Not a lot of moms would go for that. In fact the entire establishment that Wilbur and Franny regularly have conversations underneath a rug is a sign that Wilbur’s comfortable communicating w her, maybe not everything but I’d wager quite a few things. They do not however have the close, weird no-boundaries relationship that he has with his dad which is probably a good balance and allows him to have the kind of conversations he couldn’t have w someone who is also his best friend. (Boundaries. A slippery slope.) I don’t see a lot of genuine conflict between them, no weird expectations, no complex foil or double-life friendships hidden beneath the surface. Again: straightforward.
Lastly—the work thing. Ngl I think Fran and Neil are both workaholics.* Luckily, they live in a multigenerational home and have several inhuman servants AKA a bounty of free babysitters. Wilbur’s relationship with his parents can remain emotionally close and healthy even if he doesn’t see them 24/7 bc he has a safety net of an equally loving community of cowlicked family members. (And Carl.) Being his parents’ only child plus the whole family around him, Wilbur is never lonely or neglected.
But I do think Franny is ever so slightly less of a workaholic than Cornelius esp bc directing musical frogs isn’t as soul-crushingly demanding as running a tech corporation. Relatively speaking, it’s a solo career: sure you train the frogs, rehearse, compose, tour, promote, argue with your agent and accountant, etc but it’s nearly a one-man band compared to the bureaucratic chaos of Robinson industries. Also Franny and Cornelius’ personalities are complimentary, Franny embodies the Keep Moving Forward motto better than Cornelius does, considering most of what we’ve seen of him is getting obsessively frustrated over work.
And not to bring…… women’s rights….. into this Again but it’s likely Franny more often took time off work for Wilbur. (Which in my books might’ve become a point of contention w/i our little trio.) And to top it off, Franny clearly carves a bit of time for herself for hobbies i.e. karate, which as far as we know Cornelius does not do. As a result of this Wilbur’s probably less intimated by her success than he is w Cornelius.
That’s not to say I don’t think they’re equally work-savvy or equally willing to make sacrifices for Wilbur. I’d always envisioned Cornelius making a huge overhaul w his schedge/working from home more to make room for the ~joys~ of early childhood parenting but unfortch the result of said sacrifices are probably…. still less than Franny’s. Consequently, Wilbur is arguably closer to his mom for the simple fact that she’s there ever so slightly more than Cornelius. But it could also work otherwise: he’s closer to his dad bc in his absence, he gets to be the fun parent. (Or you know the one who grounds him less) Realistically though Fran and Neil probably lecture Wilbur equally but in dif ways
Where Wilbur kind of struggles to find things in common w Cornelius as he ages and presumably more or less hangs around him as he’s working or asks for homework help and maybe they have some TV show they watch together, Wilbur and Franny do share some common interests. Namely sports. Namely KARATE. Also play acting. Also, as I headcanon and think is heavily implied by the way Franny treats Lewis, playing backup to Franny’s rehearsals. (Also coughSINGINGcough)
The thing that peeves me is that where we don’t see Lewis/Cornelius’ relationships outside super individualistic lens, Franny is almost entirely defined by her relationships as a result of practicality n bc Lewis is the protagonist. Franny has… no obvious flaws or points for character growth. O Gods, if only we had the TIME!! (Sigh… thats what fanfic is for I guess.)
Anyways TL;DR: Franny is a fun mom and Wilbur’s a happy, spoilt momma’s boy. That scene in Twin Peaks season three with the mother racing her son across the street? Thats them.** Joyce and Will Byers? Also them. Mz. Frizzle and all her students? Also them!!!
*Workaholics: Most of the Robinsons probably are and this is sort of tied to the whole work hard, follow your dreams theme which has sort of become a Disney cliche. Notice how Robots (2005) and Cloudy w A Chance… are eerily close to MTR’s premise minus the humility of the adoption/family plot.
**Well… no spoilers but not entirely. I’m sorry I always reference things that Disney fandom-ers don’t watch… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
*** for the uninitiated: THE CARPET SCENE: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7uPCWiqPCls&t=2m05s
#meet the robinsons#mtr#wilbur robinson#Disney#Franny & Wilbur#analysis#ask#super jazzed abt asks like these bc even though I think abt stuff like this in my head answering them forces me to analyse things more#thoroughly on the spot and who doesn't wanna analyse yr favourite futuristic family's dynamics????!!#:)
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