Chapter Text
February 8, 2020
10:00 AM
"You probably have a superpower, too, don't you? Was that why you were tagging along with Technoblade and that girl?" Tubbo asked as he slowly buried the reflective shards of a shattered CD into the chunk of a worn tire.
"Uh, yeah," Tommy replied. His mouth twisted as he focused on getting the balance right on a bunch of steel wiring.
The two busied themselves with building little figurines of dinosaurs using the scrap around them. They resolved to build models of whichever giant reptile they thought was cool. Tubbo will then take pictures and post them on Instagram, asking users which one they thought would win in a fight.
Tommy went for a velociraptor. He remembered watching Jurrasic Park in one of the many foster homes he bounced around from and hiding in fright behind the sofa when the creatures hissed on screen. As a teenager and a Big Man, he thought they were very pog and would definitely beat whatever sorry beast Tubbo was trying to replicate. Meat eaters always win, after all. That was the way of the world: survival of the fittest and all that.
"Well, what can you do?"
"Just shield myself. Kinda boring," the blond huffed as he jerked away, tensing in anticipation. The wires swayed a little in the wind but held up the bits and bobs that served as the raptor's trunk, tail, and head.
He pumped his fist when it steadied itself.
"Sounds neat," the short brunette said as he studied Tommy's work.
"Yeah, well, I don't wanna play a support role when it comes to fights. The best superheroes always go in front, punching and kicking. Think of Spiderman and Captain America. Big men, they are, and that's what I'm aiming for!" the blond said, flexing his left arm and slapping the bicep.
"But isn't it scary?" Tubbo pointed out feebly. "I mean, you got pretty roughed up that time."
"Tubbo," the blond jumped in, wagging his finger at the brunette's face, making him inch back in surprise.
"Tubzo, Tubster, Tub Man, Bee Tubbo, Tubbo the Bee Boy. These things happen in my line of work. But you gotta take risks, you know? Let yourself get the bumps and scratches. Experience the danger. The point is you bounce back, get stronger, and get bigger."
"Yeah?" the brunette snickered, tinkering with the line of shards to make the best possible rows. "That's... that's cool."
"Right? Quote me on that," Tommy affirmed, thumping his chest.
Tubbo stood up, lifting his arms in a stretch. Tommy followed suit, standing beside him with his arms folded, his insides feeling like an expanding balloon as he marveled at his glorious scrap velociraptor.
"But, like, what happens if, you know..."
The blond looked at him pensively, anticipating what he was about to say.
"If you get stuck in a bad spot? Like, what if you get cornered by a really nasty enemy, or if your superpower thing doesn't work on them? What then?"
Tubbo shrunk into himself, wringing his hands.
The memory of a large man backing him into a corner, reeking of nicotine and vodka, eyes crackling red with fury even as tears cascaded down blotchy cheeks, a fist reeled back, aiming for his face, flashed in his mind's eye. He shuddered.
"I mean, there are monsters out there," he mumbled quietly.
Tommy lowered his face, digesting the brunette's questions. He had thought of them before when he first stepped out into that port that one cold night in Liverpool. No, he had them when he dashed out of the door of the last house where they placed him.
Those weren't the only questions. He also wondered how he could find shelter, get food, and evade the police or something if the social care system made a huge fuss about his disappearance ("Hey, that would’ve made me famous, yeah?").
Back then, he almost accepted the thought that the "hallucinations," the "ghosts," the "monsters" that he kept seeing were all just the products of an addled head. He was, after all, a child born to a pair of drug addicts snatched from death by a freak accident, as his social workers and bullies dutifully reminded him.
But he also remembered his stubborn refusal to accept the thought, the cold grip of resolve curling around his guts when he made up his mind. No, he was not going to believe there was something terribly wrong with him. He was not going to concede to the wronguns and the sweet-talking busybodies.
Despite the horrid circumstances of his birth, he was alive. And damn it, he's going to make that everyone's problem.
He was a big man with a big mouth and an even bigger dream.
He remembered dumping everything he called his into his black rucksack, dashing out of the door and into the streets, sneaking into the next America-bound cargo ship (and definitely breaking up a trafficking ring, by the way), and hoping, praying even, with every galloping thud of his heart, that his two-string plan would work out.
America, land of the Free and Home of the Brave. That was what all the movies called it, anyway. As a proud Britishman, he did not believe all that crock. But he had to take a shot.
He remembered taking his first step on Texan soil, the giddiness, the delirium that rocked his brain, the hysterical fright that threatened to rip out his throat.
He whooped and hooted like a madman back then. Someone threw a soda can to his head in response. "A good sign," he recalled thinking.
Then it all snowballed from there. He heard from a bunch of drifters that did not sound American at all that there was a place in the Hill Country where people lived without rules. That sounded like the perfect place for a big man to stretch his muscles and test his might.
Then he heard about the Pit. And Technoblade. And cursed spirits. And jujutsu.
Everything that everyone told him was the product of an ailing imagination was real.
There was a strange melancholic victory that filled his chest that first night in Lovetopia.
Then he had first close calls with death, and his first true attempts at using what he once thought ruined his life to fight back...
And this strange bond with a couple of cool, crazy people.
Tommy lifted his arm and smacked the small of Tubbo's back. The brunette shrank away from the touch, but the blond kept his fingers on the T-shirt.
All that recollection happened in the span of milliseconds, just so you know. He definitely did not look at empty space for almost a minute in total silence as Tubbo waved at his face and called to him with a variety of names.
"I met a Big Man some time ago when I came here. He told me that staying strong in the face of a lot of crazy shit is a choice."
He patted Tubbo's back and stepped out of the shadow of the roof they sheltered under. The soft light of the sun washed over him, making him exhale in contentment as it warmed his skin.
"What happens if I get in some really bad shit, you asked?" he said, swinging his arms as he hopped over his and Tubbo's figurines.
Then he turned around to face the brunette. He swiped his thumb under his nose and said, "I'll just keep going. Keep finding a way. My only other option is to roll over and die."
Tubbo finally looked at him directly. His face shivered slightly, though his brown eyes were wide. The muscles in his soft jaw clenched, and his shoulders were stiff.
But then he relaxed and dropped his gaze, shaking his head as he made a weak smile. "You're crazy."
"And you put your hand in a beehive because of kid's show," Tommy retorted with a snort.
"That makes us two of a kind then!" the brunette chirped happily.
"Now scoot, I gotta take these pictures."
"No need to post them. Velociraptors are carnivores, meat-eaters. Therefore, they win by default. Poggers, as we say," said the blond.
"Herbivores can be poggers, too," Tubbo pointed out as he snapped photos with his phone at different angles. "Personally, I think Stegos are neat."
"Whatever you say, bee boy!"
The two boys leaped over the fence and went back to the Prime Path. The blond mentioned that he wanted a sandwich for lunch. Tubbo eagerly offered to pay for it and prevailed over Tommy's flushed refusal.
The blond later scrolled through his feed for Tubbo's photos. He exhaled loudly and snickered once they came up. Some looked quite cool, though a couple were blurry.
He glanced at the tags below his username. It indicated the location to be in San Angelo, Texas.
Not Manburg.
"So this really doesn't exist on the map, huh?" he mused aloud.
"Yup!" Tubbo said. "Mum said this is a huge government experiment. The details are all confidential and shit. But now that I think about it, it's probably to study..."
He gulped.
"These cursed spirit... things."
Tommy eyed him with worry. The brunette ran his head through his brown locks and huffed softly.
Okay, people skills. Maybe a distraction.
"Does that have anything to do with all the foreigners in this place?"
Tubbo blinked as his question registered in his ears. He immediately went into stride with his explanation.
"Mum's family didn't tell me much, but she did know that a lot of people sneak into here to find a safe place from witch hunters abroad."
Meaning, windows and sorcerers.
"Because there's this secret school, right? Mum told me a super-secret organization called the Institute founded it to let people with cursed energy and whatever study and train in peace and do... whatever they'd do with their powers, I guess."
A note of longing weighed down his high voice. "She actually brought me here to study there. She said I'd find people who can help me. People who could... help me be who I'm meant to be."
His voice trailed off. Tommy only hummed in response as he kept walking.
It took him a moment to realize that Tubbo stood still a yard behind him. He immediately jogged back, feeling a prick of shame at not noticing where he was.
"Something wrong, Tubs?" he asked breathlessly.
There was a pause as the brunette looked down, digging the sole of his right shoe into the pavement and chewing his lip.
"You... Do you find me annoying, Tommy?"
Huh?
"Pfft, no!" the blond blurted uneasily. "Well, I find you weird, but that's all."
Tubbo lightened up a bit at his words. "Well, you've been awfully quiet."
"If I'm quiet, Tubbo, it's because I'm soaking up everything you're saying," the blond said with a proud lift of his chin. "I'm a good listener, see. And I can tell you needed a lot of time to talk. I don't find that annoying."
The brunette chuckled. Tommy took this in with a grin.
"And if you do end up being annoying," he continued, his voice growing louder.
Oh, boy.
"That makes us two of a kind!"
Tubbo cackled and doubled over. His laughter sounded strange, almost like the braying of a donkey.
Tommy was puzzled at this outburst, wondering what exactly he said to warrant the reaction. But he found himself laughing along.
"Okay," the blond said, hacking and coughing. "So that's all. I think I'm gonna scoot and buy myself a sandwich now. Let's hang out again soon. Thanks for the time!"
As he motioned to jog away, Tubbo immediately gripped his arm.
"Hold up! Leave your sandwich to me."
"Oh, you really don't have to."
"Do shut up! We're besties now. It's in the lore."
"Ugh."
"Umm, excuse me. Yes, hello, Jeb!"
"What do you want?"
"Can you say something to the servants over here? They're not letting me in. Your big sister, my wife, is inside, isn't she?"
"It's probably 'cause you talk funny mister. Dad said you guys have ugly teeth, too. Is that true?"
"That's... that's not how a six-year-old should talk to guests, Jeb."
"Whatever. I'll own this place when I grow up. You can't tell me what to do."
"Sure, little chap. Sure."
"Who's that sniveling between your legs?"
"This is your, uh, nephew. Say hi, Tubbo. It's your Uncle Schlatt. Mum talks about him all the time, remember?"
"He's funny."
"He's shy. Only his cousin Alex went up to him to play. Good kid, a little too clever with his hands, though."
"He's funny, too."
"Anyway, can you help me out here? At least go in and tell her Tubbo needs some downtime."
"Sure, limey. I'll get her for you."
Doors opened as he strode into the back entrance of the mansion.
The sounds of the party outside became muffled.
Footsteps, as he walked down the hall, combing through the rooms.
The sound of glass crashing. Naomi, his big sister, screaming.
Fear rising with his pulse in his throat.
Running.
The sounds of boisterous laughter. They came from his uncles, and grand-uncles, and brothers.
No.
"Little mister, you can't come in here."
"Let me through, something's wrong with Naomi. I have to help her."
"Your father said you can't come in. Go join Mister Wallace Smith and his son outside. Better yet, enjoy the party!"
"Let me through! I'll own this place one day. I'll have you thrown out of the streets! Let me through!"
"Please, Mister Jebediah!"
"Let me through!"
He barged through the door. There was Naomi, kneeling on the cold floor, prone and alone in the middle of the banquet hall. The chandelier cast an amber glow, highlighting the wine stains and food crumbs on her party dress and the gleeful cheers of the men standing on one side. Adjacent to them were the women, daughters and wives and maids, all quiet and downcast, hiding the spectacle within from curious eyes peering into the windows.
His mother. No, his stepmother stood there, shooting him a glare with her all-too-large eyes.
In the far end of the room sat his father, with big brother Jeremiah holding his hand to his right. The man was quiet, wrinkled, gnarled like a tree. Yet even in this withered state, he loomed large over everyone else in the hall.
He fixed both his cold eyes on big sister Naomi. Only the smallest hint of amusement flickered there.
"Should've thought twice about bringing your bastard with you. Groveling to secure his share of the family fortune and shit."
"Please, Bo. Please, just let me leave."
"Quiet, Naomi. Bo's right. How dare you do this on Dad's birthday."
"Hosie, please."
"We should try ripping her clothes next. She can fix them up in a jiff with her cursed technique, anyway. You're cool with that. Right, Naomi? For Dad's sake, at least."
"I think we're done here."
"Don't be a pussy, Remi. The fun's just started."
"Jeb's here. He looks upset."
All the men turn their eyes on Jeb, pinning him on the spot. Cold sweat oozed in his palms as he struggled to speak. He thought his heartbeat was getting in the way of his words.
"St-Stop that. Stop hurting Naomi," he choked out. The woman perked up at the sound of his voice.
She turned. Jeb started crying at the look on her face. It was purpling on one side and scratched on the other. Her hair was in clumps, wine sticking the tresses together down her shoulder.
"Oh, hello, Jeb!" said big brother Jehosaphat, a bright smile on his face and a box cutter in his right hand. He strode out of his spot in the line of men, away from big brother Jeroboam, who looked at Jeb scathingly, and big brother Jethro, whose eyes were glassy and fixed at some unseen point in the distance. Probably smoking weed again.
"What're you doing here?" he continued. "Everyone's having fun outside. Cousin Quackity's there, and sis's stinking husband and child, too. You should be out having a ball."
"What are you doing with Naomi?" Jeb asked furiously. "Stop it!"
"Nothing, Jeb!" Hosie replied, waving the box cutter lazily in the air. "The grown-ups are just having a private get-together, and we big boys get to watch. But you're too young for this stuff. Don't worry, though! You'll get to join in one day."
"Stop it. I said stop!" he cried. "I'll own this house one day. You guys better stop!"
"Of course, you will! We're making sure some of the house rules are still followed. Just go. You're squealing is getting on our nerves."
"Jeb," Naomi whispered as Hosie pulled her up by the back of her dress. "Jeb, listen to him."
"No!" answered Jeb. "I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving you. I'll stay by your side like you promised!"
"Jeb," she repeated, her voice breaking with choked sobs. "This isn't the place for you. Leave."
"No! Don't send me away. I won't leave you the way you left me!"
"Jeb."
"Oh, please," Hosie groaned as he pressed the box cutter into the fabric.
"No!"
"Leave!"
Jeb woke with a start. His face was planted into the dirt. He winced as he tried blinking aways the clods that stuck to his cheeks.
He pushed himself up by his hands and hissed as his pulse banged against his temples and neck. He squinted as he found himself in front of the Schlatt Estate, heralded by the large white cement fence, tall palm trees, and the huge iron gate painted in black save for the family crest, a giant S with chain links for ends, all detailed in gold.
Shaking, he let himself fall like a plank back on the ground, letting the trenchcoat slick with sweat sink into his skin.
Sweat. Sweat and barf. And salt?
He was probably crying in his vomit again in front of the bar. The townsfolk then dragged him with their grimy hands and dumped him there. How charitable of them.
He sighed and gagged at the scent of vodka vapors and vomit coming out of his mouth. That memory came up again of all times. It showed that his self-proposed therapy plan of drinking his mind blank did not quite work.
At least it wasn't the voices that woke him up.
"Whatever," he moaned. "This is my place. I can't leave. I'll never leave. Fuck them."
7:00 PM
Tubbo was cool. Lovetopia wasn't. Technoblade's solution seemed to be giving Wilbur the silent treatment. No bruises, no broken stuff, just the pink-haired man looking permanently constipated and the tall brunette looking like a scolded elementary kid.
Boring.
"At least it's quiet," the boy thought as he lifted his bowl of potato soup to take huge gulps.
Also, he enjoyed the way Wilbur tried to look all cute and sad whenever Techno did or said something. Pathetic, pitiful, unpog.
"Looks like you're done," Techno drawled.
"Yup. I got the big man appetite after doing big man things."
"Here, I'll put them in the sink," the man said, reaching for Tommy's bowl.
"Oh no, let me do it," the blond piped, his voice shrilling in embarrassment.
"Techno, let me," Wilbur offered morosely. The man ignored him as he gathered all the utensils.
Oof! Big L.
"Techno," the brunette repeated in a hushed voice.
"Go wash up, Tommy. You stink of sweat," said Techno with a grin as he started cleaning the dishes. The blond raised his fist and punched him lightly on one burly shoulder, hissing "Fuck off."
Behind them, Wilbur groaned and pushed himself off his seat, stomping his way outside.
Like a bitch.
8:45 PM
Tommy decided to leave his room and step outside for a while. He was a little giddy from another text conversation with Mimi, talking about his day with "the funny boy from Sneeg's."
He welcomed the cool evening air as it brushed his skin. Not so the presence of Wilbur, his hands clutched as he leaned over the railing.
The brunette was staring at the door of the kitchen a few yards away. As the light flickered off, he sighed.
"Not making up, eh?" Tommy probed. Wilbur jolted, but quickly regained his mask of cool contempt at the sight of the boy.
He spat into the gravel below. "Like you'd want to know."
The blond joined him as he leaned over the rail, supporting himself by his forearms and pushing out his back and legs to copy Wilbur's posture. Upon noticing this, the brunette immediately straightened with a huff and leaned with his back instead.
Tommy smirked. "You know, dickhead, it helps if you air out deep thoughts. I'm a good listener. I might even give you some good advice. Think of it as therapy."
"No thanks," Wilbur replied. "I'm not interested in your thoughts or advice. Not at all, at all."
"Your loss," the blond hummed, swaying his head along to a tune randomly playing in his ears.
"Anyhow," he resumed, making Wilbur audibly fume. "You'll have to fix your little spat with Technoblade soon. Or your game of house will get even more awkward."
"We're officially foster brothers, gremlin."
"And how's that helping you right now, hmm?"
The brunette threw up his hands in frustration and pressed them into his face. After a second's pause, he said, "I already have something in mind."
"What? Gonna sing him a song like one of your e-girls?"
"Something like that," Wilbur replied with a cheeky smile.
Really? Someone like Technoblade, won over by singing?
"I don't see how that works," Tommy voiced aloud.
"It's a brother thing, child. Nothing you'd understand," Wilbur sniped.
The boy fell quiet, lowering his back further. He was not sure what to answer to that, or what to make of the feeling of emptiness that weighed on his stomach.
"Anyway, be useful and don't get in my way tomorrow. No laughing, no snarking, or I'll physically remove you from the premises. Got it?" Wilbur threatened.
"Sure, dickhead," Tommy mumbled.
The brunette harrumphed as he pushed himself off the railing and walked to his door. Along the way, he muttered gruffly, "You better. I have to make sure everything's okay again before Valentine's Day."
He slammed the door on his way in. His last words echoed in Tommy's head.
"Valentine's Day."
February 9, 2020
8:00 AM
As soon as he saw the guitar, Tommy pursed his lips.
Apparently, Wilbur really was going to sing to Techno.
When they finished their breakfast and dumped all the dishes into the sink, the brunette wordlessly dragged the man by the arm and forced him to sit on his hammock in the living room.
Tommy caught him looking at the guitar and then exhaling deeply. He might have expected this.
Of course, they were brothers. Foster brothers, but yeah.
Wilbur then plopped into the sofa in front of Techno. He played around with the strings at first, searching out the melody for the song he had in mind. But as soon as he got it, the chords flowed deftly from his fingers.
The room became silent, save for the plucking and strumming of the guitar.
Wilbur eased into the forming tune as easily as breathing.
Tommy sat on one of the chairs by the dining table and listened.
The brunette made a few decisive strums and paused, whispering the lyrics.
We were playing in the sand
And you found a little band
You told me you fell in love with it
Hadn't gone as I planned
He paused again, holding out the lull in the music as if he expected someone to step in and pick up the words.
That someone was Technoblade. Responding to Wilbur's cue, he mumbled.
When you had to bid adieu
Wilbur strummed with gusto, making a small noise of joy as he continued.
Said you'd never love anew
Then they sang together,
I wondered if I could hold it
And fall in love with it too
They went on with the rest of the song, settling into a hum as they finished another stanza together.
You told me to buy a pony
But all I wanted was you
Tommy observed them closely with quiet awe. He never imagined Techno to be the type to like singing, much less singing along to a small, fanciful tune.
It was one of those scenes that were very close to him yet extremely distant. He suddenly felt like he was an intruder again, a voyeur invading a scene that was supposed to be secret and private.
The urge to storm out of the kitchen became strong. And yet, so was
The urge to draw closer to the two who were blissfully humming away to the sounds of the guitar. The urge to tap Wilbur's shoulder, shock him out of his concentration, risk his angry sniping for a while, to ask him what the song was called. To stand next to Techno and watch the brunette work soft magic with the strings. To ask him to play another song.
He chose to stay put, overwhelmed by the conflicting notions in his mind. In the living room, the two men chuckled at some throwaway comment made by Technoblade.
They made up.
Holidays had the funny effect of making the days before it feel rushed.
February 10, 2020
Going on another errand, Tommy almost forgot what he was supposed to buy at Niki's ("Lemon-scented soap. Write that down, child!").
The girl shot him a question he barely paid attention to, absorbed as he was in what he would like to do for Valentine's Day.
Should he even do something for Mimi on Valentine's Day? Isn't that stuff, like, only for super serious couples? They certainly like each other very much. Tommy always felt like walking on air whenever they are together. He sincerely believed they had something great going, being young be damned.
"Yohooo, Earth to big guy?"
"Huh?"
"I said," Niki giggled. "What do you plan to do for Valentine's?"
Something crashed. Luckily, it was just in the blond's head. He did not know how to make up for it if he ruined something in Niki's shop.
Feeling his tongue make knots at every millimeter, he stammered out a response.
"Um, no? Not really? I don't know. Do I have something to do on Valentine's Day? Do you?"
"Me? Of course!" she said. "Wilbur, Techno, and I got a little tradition going. We settle on something cute to give and then give them. Number, receiver, giver, doesn't matter. Just something to show how much we care for each other."
"Oh, uh, that's neat," Tommy said.
Then Niki sidled up to him, leaning on his shoulder. She leaned down and whispered in his ear as her eyebrows lifted knowingly.
"For this year, we decided to make each other flower crowns. Thanks to a little, oh I don't know, inspiration from a big man in town."
Who? Me? Flower crowns?
Tommy gulped. "Wilbur must be pissed."
"Positively livid!" Niki affirmed as she hopped back to the counter. "But Techie was like "Whatever," so we pushed through with it."
She made twirl and stopped herself by tapping at the cash register. As she shuffled through the coins to get change for the soap, she said pointedly.
"Would you like to make one for your girlie?"
Tommy blushed red as a radish. "I'm not sure. We're not exactly serious yet. Would that be weird?"
"Aww, Tommy," Niki cooed. "Doesn't have to be that way! But of course, you decide what's best for that. A little greeting may be just what you need. Believe me! My friend Minx knows first-hand."
Who's that? Kind of a funny name.
"Here's your two cents," she said, tossing the coins into Tommy's hand. "And here's my two cents. Listen carefully, big guy."
The blond leaned in with a mockingly serious face. Niki just has this way of making him feel at ease with himself. So he gladly played along with the little twists and turns of her mind.
"No matter what you do, it's the sincerity that matters. Don't be afraid to let your feelings show! I believe in you, Tommy!"
"Thank you very much, Big Sis Niki!"
"Go get 'em!" she cheered as he marched outside, making the chimes clatter noisily as he opened the door.
February 11, 2020
They had just finished lunch. Tommy and Wilbur sat in the living room, the former running through his moves and battle strategies to keep his mind off the oncoming holiday. Meanwhile, the latter sat on the floor with a bundle of wildflowers and selected cuts of blooms he might have picked personally in the market square. His brows and lips were tight in concentration, and his brown eyes studied the coils of plant stems through his glasses.
Tommy stretched and groaned loudly. When the brunette took no notice, he groaned even louder.
Wilbur's nose twitched.
Aha! That was his cue.
"What're you doing?" Tommy asked the brunette in his best approximation of a suave voice.
"Making a flower crown," Wilbur huffed. "What does it look like?"
"For Valentine's Day, yeah?"
The brunette threw down the coil he made. "What's this about?" he barked.
"Oh, nothing," Tommy hummed as he sprawled on the sofa. "Nothing. Just, I wanna get a little expert advice on what to do for a girl on such a special, special day. From one big man to another."
Wilbur blinked in confusion. "Um, sure. Go ahead, gremlin."
The blond sat up, clearing his throat.
"So, umm. You're popular with the girls, right?"
"And the guys, and the gays, and everyone else in the rainbow."
"So you must know how to do something special for a girl."
"Yeah?"
"So," Tommy whispered, swallowing thickly as he leaned down. "So you've done some really, really special things. Big things for a girl."
A grin played around Wilbur's lips. "Uh huh?"
The blond closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Then he asked, "What's it like to kiss a girl."
The brunette's cheeks puffed as he stifled laughter. To no avail. He fell to his side and cackled like a hyena, clutching his sides.
Tommy bit down on his tongue. "Stop it!" he growled.
Wilbur looked at him, wiping tears from his eyes as he massaged his ribs.
"Is that what's going on?" he crooned. "A little child's growing up and noticing girls? Is he feeling a little funny in the stomach, a little gooey in the chest, a little hot and bothered under the collar? You want to look cool and turned to big brother Wilbur Soot for help?"
"Stop it!" Tommy roared.
February 12, 2020
The boy woke up sweating in his bed. He had a nightmare where he prepared something really cool for Mimi. But when they met up, he vomited several flower crowns.
He debated with himself if he should tell somebody about it. Tubbo? He'll just laugh. Niki? She'll probably give him a verbal pat in the back and give the same piece of advice. Techno? He'll just tell him to go back to sleep. And Wilbur?
Definitely don't tell Wilbur.
He struggled to go back to sleep. Valentine's was two days away. He'll figure something out.
February 13, 2020
Ah, fuck!
February 14, 2020
It turned out that he fussed over nothing. Mimi was not a high-maintenance person, and she was glad to just exchange a greeting.
In fact, she greeted him first thing in the morning.
She sent him a picture of herself making a duckface with a heart filter. He tossed and turned in bed as he struggled not to holler and whoop at her gesture. He promptly sent her something to the same effect, though he truly believed the heart filter fit her better.
Meanwhile, Niki visited them on her lunch break to give each one of them her flower crowns. Techno made one for her and so did Wilbur, though the brunette did make one for him as well.
Tommy thanked her when she placed one on his head. Niki truly was a stand-up girl. They all took pictures together, the burly man looking funny with his uneasy scowl and double flower crowns.
Wilbur made sure the man posted them on his empty Instagram page.
Later that day, Tommy got a text from Tubbo.
BTubbo
happy valtentin's day big man!
wanna hang out?
Big Man
kinda busy right now
sorry would really want to
BTubbo
okay
sure
i'll be rgiht here
if you're free
:----(
Tommy shook his head. The short brunette had a clingy streak. Not that he blamed him.
Big Man
sure thing
last time was fun
happy valentine's too bruv!
It took almost a minute for him to reply.
BTubbo
yeah
it was
thnaks
To Tommy, that was that.
The rest of the day went well. Niki went back to her shop, he and Techno went to training, and Wilbur did a little live session on Instagram, playing and singing stupid love songs.
It was a pretty normal Valentine's Day.
Except.
February 14, 2020
11:00 PM
BTubbo
help