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#wilbur hurt
re-d4cted · 1 year
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hey wanna see a paragraph from a c!wilbur one-shot I'm writing
trick question I'm gonna show you anyway
it's times like these where you're said to notice the most insignificant things. for some it's the feeling of blood on their skin, for others it's the smell of death. not him, no those things had been a constant in his life for who knows how long. no what wilbur noticed, what he felt, was warmth. his body that had long gone cold, had become warm.
feel free to guess the context
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haunted-headset · 5 months
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🤍 Did You Just Flinch? 🤍
Summary: You flinched when he yelled at you.
word count: 761
tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @ace-call-me-what-youd-like @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)
cw: cursing, arguing, use of Y/N, you/yours pronouns used, reader flinches, hurt/comfort, Wilbur being kind of a dickhead, mentions of past abuse, use of a pet name at the end
a/n: hey guys! Quick little story: I watched a video that was basically Wilbur getting mad for like 3 or so minutes, & the first clip was Wilbur pretending to be angry at someone who was interviewing him, & Wilbur yells very loudly & I flinched & I thought "that's a banger idea for a fic, good job, me!" so yeah!! :) here's the video if you wanna see
You & Wilbur both had terrible days. You didn't get a wink of sleep because of work & stress, & the entire week, you two were snippy with each other. You didn't blame him for any of it; he was stressed, & he was tired. Today, however, you were a little angry with him for it. You two had been extra snippy last night & had an argument, & that led to Wilbur choosing to sleep on the couch, & he didn't give you your good morning kisses & hugs when he left for the studio. He just said muttering a goodbye. Not once, in all of the years of dating you, did he ever not kiss you before he left. Even if you were screaming at him the night before or you were both pissed off at each other, he'd still do it.
When you finally got home from work, you found Wilbur sitting at his desk in the office, a mug of coffee next to his laptop. He was tapping his foot repetitively & he looked tired. His hair was tousled & his eyelids were drooping. You walked over to grab the coffee mug & he grabbed your wrist, not hard enough to hurt you.
"I'm still drinking that," he sighed.
"Hello to you too," you replied. He sighed again. "I'm just refilling your coffee for you."
"I didn't ask you to do that," he snapped. "I can do it myself."
"What is your issue today?" you said, somewhat annoyed.
"What's my issue?!" he said, raising his voice slightly. "What's your issue?! You've been such an ass to me this week! You're not making the stress any fuckin' easier!"
"Neither are you!" you said, your voice also raising. "You're being an ass, too! A massive one!"
"Oh, j--FUCK OFF!" he said, now yelling. "Fuck off! You think--you just sat there thinkin' you're tough shit, didn't you, fuckin' wanker?"
You froze. He's never yelled at you like that before.
"I-I can leave & let you be if you want--" you started in a small voice.
"Oh, so you're just fuckin' dumping me now?!" he shouted. "Is that what you're doing?! You're trying to break up with me?! What a fuckin' load of bollocks!"
"No no no no!" you said, still using that soft voice. "I-I was just going into another--"
"What, are you gonna try & cheat on me?!" he yelled, somehow getting louder. "Is that what this is, you fuckin' wanker?"
"Not at all!" you said quietly. "Not at all! I wouldn't dream of--"
"SPEAK UP!" he nearly shrieked as he raised his hand. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"
You flinched & covered your head as you shook & were on the verge of tears. He was most likely going to hit you. That's what the last few did.
Wilbur froze. He lowered his hand & looked at you with shock. Tears began to fill his eyes.
"Did you just flinch?" he said, almost a whisper. "Love, I--I wasn't going to hurt you. I would never."
You didn't say anything. You just sobbed.
"Oh my God, darling," he whispered, his voice cracking. He moved your hands away from your face & wrapped his arms around your waist as he took in the sight of your trembling lips & tearful eyes.
"I'm not like him, love," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I would never even dream of hurting you, okay? I'm so sorry I scared you. I shouldn't have yelled."
& you broke down in his arms as he buried your head in his chest & let out a few small cries of his own. You both mumbled apologies to each other constantly as you hugged each other like your lives depended on it. Suddenly, he picked you up bridal style & placed you on the bed.
"Wait right here, okay?" he said, brushing the hair away from your face. "I'm going to run the store."
He came back a few moments later with a full grocery bag. When you opened the bag, you saw your favorite snacks, drinks, candy, a plushie, & a pair of slippers.
"Wil, this is too much--" you started. He cut you off with a gentle kiss.
"Nothing is too much for my sunflower," he smiled. "Now, what movie do you want to watch?"
For the rest of the night, you two watched your favorite movies & TV shows, & when it was time to go to bed, you two cuddled & talked & giggled with each other until you fell asleep in his arms.
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thespoonisvictory · 5 months
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me when god finally brings me a clone of you as but I have to take a month off work to sit with her in the kitchen and explain all our inside jokes and watch our favorite movies and teach her the world we made up and then I still fucking miss you anyway and then it hits me that I was the problem. and I still can't wake up and talk to you. anyway.
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fernlessbastard · 18 days
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okk love your blog, so I rlly wanted to send an ask even if its nothing too especific ;-;
soo, since u like tntduo (like me :]) whats your favorite hc for their relationship? I love hearing about hc's, and since your art its so cute, u probs have some cool hc's
Thank youuuuu I appreciate it so much, and by all means flood me with asks! Asks are great, I love asks, be it random thoughts, art ideas, opinions, etc etc, asks are always welcome (unless they're from the 🥝 anon 🙄🙄🙄 /j/loving)
And a favourite headcanon? Hm, i don't know, hard to say. I have multiple headcanons, idk if I favour any in particular
There's one where after revival Wilbur's body is kinda fucked up in the nerves and blood vessels department, so he has some trouble with kinda controlling it, which particularly expresses itself in his hands being unsteady. They're so unsteady, that the first time he picks up a guitar again he can't play right. He blows up over it and has a breakdown, and vows to never play again. He still ends up trying a couple times, but each time he just immediately gets pissed off and upset, and tosses it away. It really breaks him. At some point he's at Quackity's place, and he sees a guitar. He looks at it for a while, but doesn't say anything, of which Quackity makes note. Next time they meet up Wilbur shits on Quackity for not having touched it recently, so Quackity takes it as a challenge. Once the music starts, Wil goes quiet. He's sitting to the side of Q, slightly behind him, and after a while for just a moment he leans against his upper back, and closes his eyes, simply l taking the moment in. This situation repeats, a couple times, and each time Wilbur lets himself relax a bit longer. He starts playing with Quackity's hair as he listens, and one time he l begins trying to braid it. His hands are shaking, he's struggling to divide the thick hair into even parts, he's having trouble keeping the braid even, but what's crucial is that he does it. Next time it repeats. And next time too. And the next, and eventually the braids start to look actually pretty decent. Time passes, they meet up more often, and eventually comes a day when Wilbur takes the guitar. No words are exchanged. No ridicule, but no praise either - no verbal acknowledgement. Instead Quackity just sits slightly behind him, and begins gently braiding his hair. The notes are wonky and don't always sound quite right, and the rhythm is messy, and strumming only goes well sometimes, but he's playing...
Quackity kisses Wilbur's head, right above the new braid. He leans in, partially hugging him, as the other's playing. It's been a bit over a year since he started playing again, and the difference is big. Neither knows if he'll ever fully regain the control and steadiness of his hands, but he manages to keep the rhythm, and the notes now ring out clear a big majority of the time. He plays quicker songs too, now; sometimes they both sing, and laugh when they mix something up. Quackity smiles, closing his eyes as Wilbur once again butchers a random song by changing up the words completely to make it as on the nose as humanly possible. He begins to wonder what they should eat tomorrow for their anniversary breakfast.
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ax-y10 · 5 months
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mopey and majestic
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in which; wilbur has plans for the night you come home sad and upset
requested by 🎧 anon; wilbur x reader go on a romantic picnic wilbur set up at your favourite field after you were upset (not the full request) linked with; picnicking together in a spot where couples usually picnic together. “we’re defying the norms,” character a says while being all snuggled up in character b’s comforting embrace
about; reader is upset, physical touch, 'killed' is mentioned once - i didn't do field because i had an idea for the beach but i hope this is still alright.
word count; 813
celebrate here;
wil <3
4:18 pm hey sweetheart, i'm starting dinner now. see you soon
5:42 pm dinner's ready. be safe on your way home for me. i love you
6:57 pm darling, how long will you be? your dinner is in the microwave staying warm. let me know when you'll be home
7:25 pm work finished at 5:30, what's happened?
---
he knew something was up when you wouldn't respond to his messages. he could understand that you wouldn't reply to his first message because you hadn't finished work, but he was weirded out by the fact that you hadn't responded to any after his second message.
the dots suddenly started forming a coherent reason. you were upset. you needed comfort as soon as you got home, and you were probably walking around the seaside to calm yourself down.
grabbing your dinner from the microwave and putting it in an air-tight container, he made his way up to your shared bedroom. he grabbed a comfy sweater of his and a beanie, alongside a small backpack and shoved the items in.
he grabbed your dinner and pretzels for himself, also stuffing them in his backpack, and called you.
after a few seconds of waiting, you picked up, sniffles sounding through the call.
---
"hey sweetheart, where are you right now?" he quietly closed the door and started walking towards the beach.
"um, i think i'm near that one cafe on the beach. why? do i need to be home? i can go hom-" he cut you off and shushed your rambling.
"no no no, don't worry. can you go to that one spot on the beach we went yesterday with tommy?" he panted a little, quickening his pace.
"uh yeah. it's hard to see but i'll go there," right now, it was best that you ignored your worries and got there on the beach safely.
"okay, thankyou," he went quiet and created a soft environment on the other end of the call.
---
quick footsteps were approaching you, and you panicked, until you saw his dark figure sitting down next to you.
the light of the moon and the street lights illuminated his face perfectly, outlining every dimple and curve on his face with a golden glow, a halo where his hair was poofed up, and his smile was highlighted by the soft glow of the moon. he looked ethereal. he calmed down your entire being from just standing there, and he may have noticed.
"hello" his gentle voice filled your ears, accompanied with a small smile. he looked absolutely beautiful and you couldn't get enough of it. it was not the right time to try for a kiss. he was here to hopefully comfort you and calm you down.
"come here" he leaned closer to you and stretched out his arms, inviting you into a warm hug.
"thankyou. for being here," only now did you have the chance to check his messages.
you had headphones in, and your phone was on silent. you were still in your scratchy work uniform, and all you needed was to keep your head warm, a headache creeping into your skull. but as you looked at the messages, everything else was forgotten. you probably stressed him out so much, and your dinner was probably cold, and he probably thought you got killed.
"give me a second" he reached into his backpack and pulled out his sweater and beanie, laying the items on your lap. he helped you pull the sweater on and pulled the beanie over your eyes, causing you to erupt into a small fit of giggles.
he then pulled out his bag of pretzels and your dinner, still tightly sealed in the container.
you almost cried when he pulled out your dinner, you having not had a chance to eat all day, and being caught off guard from a warm dinner presented to you, having not been eaten for almost two hours at this point.
still being rested and warm in wilbur's arms, you had started eating dinner, listening to the waves crashing against the shore and wilbur's obnoxiously loud chewing. everything was so much better now that you had wilbur right next to you and being wrapped up in his comfy clothes.
you were snuggled up into his side, your shoes inside his backpack, and his head rested on yours. his arm was wrapped around your middle, tracing soft circles into the soft skin of your waist. his free hand was fidgeting with the hair tie on your wrist, being careful to not accidentally snap it against your wrist.
"we're defying the norms" he spoke into the blue, not expecting an answer. he just wanted to let his thoughts out to someone, and that someone was you. but he got a whole hearted laugh from you, and you both packed up and headed home, opting to fall asleep in a bed and not on rocks.
taglist; @phxntomsdusk (ask to be added)
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nightshadeowl · 2 months
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Something that's been on my mind.
Aromantic folks who enjoyed Lovejoy and Wilbur's music, who felt that he championed aro perspectives which are largely ignored in pop culture and especially music: I'm so sorry. Obviously there are more prevalent forms of hurt right now and very pressing troubles to focus on, but saying this as an individual, to a group who gets few acknowledgements, losing that has to be difficult and I hope you find other comforts to turn to. Take care of yourselves.
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anarchy-and-piglins · 7 months
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Twinsduo AU where Techno is a random guy who suffers from chronic pain issues and childhood trauma, and Wilbur is a demon who feeds on human suffering.
Wilbur sees Techno, goes "oh damn, free meal" and instantly starts to befriend him. He doesn't need to do anything, just being near Techno is enough to keep Wilbur satiated.
Except that Techno - not an idiot - instantly calls Wilbur out on his true nature.
But to Wilbur's surprise, Techno says he's fine with Wilbur sticking around and basically feeding off his daily state of being in exchange for Wilbur giving him something in return (either money or maybe a favor/something Wilbur can do for him using his demon magic powers). Wilbur agrees.
Then they end up actually becoming friends.
Wilbur starts to help Techno with self-care and basically being an actually good friend, because he really only needs a base level of suffering to survive and he starts not wanting Techno to suffer needlessly. Techno is very used to hiding how bad he feels because of internalized ableism (shitty family + being told his entire childhood that he's exaggerating and needs to toughen up) and also doesn't like it when people take care of him, but Wilbur can sense how Techno actually feels with his demon powers so it's hard for Techno to hide it.
Maybe for extra angst, Techno refuses to take his meds sometimes because he's afraid of Wilbur accidentally starving. Or worse: leaving if Techno can't provide what he needs anymore.
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malewifeph1lza · 1 year
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these are very quick doodles but the zombie apocalypse au by @wolfythewitch is taking over my brain (no pun intended)
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chayannesegg · 2 months
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honestly I think it’s kinda interesting how phil’s relationships with wilbur, tallulah, chayanne & tubbo are all reflecting back into his view of sunny tbh. like he has such complex delicate interwoven dynamics with all of them and it all gets thrown onto sunny, this poor kid who he loves in theory, but in practice is a stranger to him. 
like wilbur left tallulah in phil’s care and didn’t come back. even now way after he was initially supposed to, wilbur hasn’t returned (that one day aside). and phil, who had already taken on a big commitment watching tallulah, has been left permanently with two eggs in his sole care. and even though he loves tallulah and wil, and won’t want them out of his life, this is a stress for him. it’s a big undertaking for anyone, to care for two kids alone, but especially since tallulah required a lot of changes in his life.
for better or worse, in many ways phil sees chayanne as an extension of himself. they’re similar in a lot of ways, and often on the same page, and it means phil often struggles to catch up when chayanne’s emotions aren’t on the same page as him. we’ve seen this week, phil having such a hard time understanding the depth and breadth of chayanne’s grief. when he catches on, he usually does a good job empathising and talking it through, but when he doesn’t, he really doesn’t and it can be hard to watch. 
the same is NOT true for tallulah. he has, through hard work and practice, learnt how to identify her emotions. he had to. she needed it. she would have been miserable otherwise. she desperately needed asked for the emotional care and birthdays and consideration that chayanne would never ask for. and he’s good at it—tracking her moods, knowing what upsets her & what she cares about in a way that doesn’t come as naturally with chayanne (or sunny or tubbo or anyone else really expect maybe wilbur). but that took A LOT of time and effort, months of work, and I do think he’s a bit wary of the idea of having to do that again, even when it comes to people he loves like chayanne (or god forbid tubbo).
now tubbo is not wil. tubbo is not phil's son. but he’s still not dissimilar to wil in phil’s mind. whatever the backstory is, phil introduces tubbo to tallulah as an old friend of him and wil’s. he makes tubbo his kids’ godfather. he calls tubbo his boy. he looks out for him. but past those first few weeks, their relationship doesn’t progress. they mean a lot to each other bc of their pasts, but they don’t put any work into upkeeping their relationship and phil in particular doesn’t reflect at all on what how that changes their dynamic. and it does change it—this is clear in purgatory, with phil having zero trust in tubbo to protect chayanne and tallulah, and after, with tubbo endlessly poking at phil’s sore spots trying to illicit a reaction he’ll never receive. 
it's also clear in the way phil has no understanding of what’s going on with tubbo. if he’s struggling to grasp chay’s emotions, he’s not even touching what’s going on in tubbo’s head. tubbo’s death makes no sense to him. it’s sudden. it’s random. it’s illogical. it’s stupid. he wasn’t joking about having two lives? he still took a death bet with richas? he’s not come back? he can’t come back? he’s left phil with distraught kids for no reason with no warning. he doesn’t see the erratic suicidal behaviour, the unending depression, the desperation to be loved. he doesn’t want to see it. he doesn’t want something to be wrong with tubbo, but he also doesn’t even know how to see what’s wrong. he’s annoyed he’s having to deal with it and he desperately desperately wants to believe this is all happening for no reason.
bc at the forefront of phil’s mind is still his love for tubbo. of course, phil would drop everything to help tubbo (if he could recognize something was wrong). of course, he would care for sunny as his own. of course, he would make the same sacrifices he’s made for wil. and he assumes he’ll have to. he thought that sunny would now be under his care. that he’d have to figure out the logistics of a third egg to care for. with wilbur, phil was the only person who could ever have taken care of tallulah. the only person he trusted, the only person who knew tallulah enough. now this isn’t true for tubbo. it’s a genuinely illogical assumption for phil to make: three eggs would be a genuine burden on him; they've never spoken about it; there’s a long list of people who would tubbo expects for sunny before; and he doesn’t even know sunny well enough to name these people for her as comfort.
but still in the moment, alone with tubbo’s eggs and dealing with everything he left behind, phil can only think that the exact same thing that happened before will happen: he alone will be left to care for another scared hurt kid of someone he loves.
and here we come to sunny. a kid whose dad he loves. a kid whose dad he doesn’t understand. a kid whose dad is suddenly gone like his son is gone. a kid who would need him like his daughter needs him. a kid who his son needs to protect. a kid he cares for. a kid he can’t afford to care for, a kid he wasn’t expecting to care for, a kid he doesn’t know how to care for, a kid he would care for if he needed to, a kid he doesn’t know why he’s been left to care for. a kid who is somehow a reflection of all these people he loves but not someone he knows at all.
idk i think this tension comes out in the a lot of the comments phil makes of and to sunny. he doesn't know them well enough to distinguish them from his relationships with other people. and as long as no one challenges him on that, we'll continue to hear these misplaced comments from him, that come across so insensitively, even as he tries his best to genuinely help them and their dad.
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givemeureyes · 2 months
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so now can i talk about how even victims of abuse treat other victims? or are y’all still not ready
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sootical · 5 months
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Permanence
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->Wilbur Soot x Reader (hinted but never explicitly stated) ->No use of Y/n ->I tried to be as gender neutral as possible.
*Hurt, minimal comfort, hopeful ending TW: Su*cidal ideation, Self destructive thoughts and actions, SH mentions/references, depression, lots and lots of depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK Summary: You are stuck in a multi-month long depressive episode, and it's gotten so much worse. You're on your last leg, and you need someone to help you. Good thing best friend(?) Wilbur and his band are there to help :] Word Count - 2.4k
Wilbur Soot. Twitch streamer turned famous musician, heartthrob—you get it. He’s everything anyone could want in a partner. Trust me, I would know. He’s been my best friend since form. And since then, he’s only ever been kind and considerate and just overall an amazing person. What a guy right? With his stupid brown hair that covers one of his eyes when it’s outgrown. Stupid brown eyes that have just the right amount of dark and light brown in them. It’s stupid of me really, to ever hope for a future with him that involves us being more than friends. I can only hope though, right? He’s up there, in the states, singing his heart out on a stage. While I’m stuck, on the other side of paradise–more like purgatory–lamenting on how many people adore him. I’m feeling sorry for myself, rotting away in bed at 2 in the morning. It’s not like I have to work in three hours–whaaaat nooooo… A knot develops in my stomach at the mere thought of leaving my bed. Maybe losing my job isn’t so bad. Wilbur has told me time and time again he’d pay me to edit for him. But I could never make him do that. Never would I take advantage of him like that. I’d feel like more of a burden than I already do. The thought of him having to support me financially makes me want to vomit. It makes my skin crawl, so it’s okay if I waste away. If I end up rotting away in my bed. It’s fine. At least then I wouldn’t be able to consume too much of Wilbur’s time. Taking up too much of his time has always been my biggest fear. To me, it came true a long time ago and I’m finally reaping what I sowed. It sucks really, how I thought I'd have a shot. Just for it all to blow up in my face. Now he’s somewhere in America–having the time of his life. Good for him. Bad for me.
Reaching over, I grab my phone. My coworkers probably hate me. I keep asking them to cover my shifts so I can rot in bed for another day. It’s been like this since–September? It started off just once every few weeks. Now, it being almost December, I’ve not gone to work in over two weeks. What’s the point anymore anyways? I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. Deep down, when I started doing things for myself–I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. That was two years ago. I guess I’m finally breaking.
Pulling the duvet over my head, I try not to think about how my breath smells, and the uncomfortable way the oil sticks to my face. I shove my head into the pillow. Trying to block out the sounds of people existing below my apartment. It’s so much easier to rot away when people don’t rely on you. When you have no reason for existence. I don’t want to die. But at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, so I lay and wait. I wait for some omnipotent being to strike me down and judge me for how I’ve managed to mess up any and all relationships I’ve ever had with anyone. Me and Nikki haven’t spoken in almost a year. Me and Wilbur haven’t even seen each other in months My family doesn’t talk to me.
I wish I could say “The world is fucked and everyone hates me.” But that’s not the truth. The truth is I am my own undoing. I have destroyed everything I’ve worked for. Any relationships–platonic and romantic–have fallen through because of my own emotions and insecurities getting in the way. It’s not fair for anyone. Well, anyone except for me. I brought this upon myself. My phone is the only thing lighting up my face. I looked at the time. Suddenly it’s six in the morning, and I’m late for work. The thought makes me want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t tell if it’s apathy—or dehydration. 
I call my boss. She answers. “Where are you?! I haven’t seen you in weeks! I’m worried about you hun, do you need me to call someone?” She opens, sounding both relieved and shocked I even called. I clear my throat the best I can, swallowing saliva feels like eating sandpaper. “I uh..I was calling to let you know I won’t be coming back. I’m quitting. And I’m sorry for not putting in my two weeks. It’s not–” Something foreign is bubbling up in my throat, I force myself to swallow it down. “-It’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry.” I whisper, hanging up shortly after.
I feel terrible for worrying her. I feel terrible for upsetting her. I feel terrible. I am terrible. I’m a parasite. I always have been. Mooching off of others in order to help myself get by. My thoughts fall back to Wilbur. I’ve been mooching off of him for however long we’ve been friends. I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to be my friend to keep me alive. But at the same time–I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look myself in the mirror and tell myself it’s me. I can’t. I’m not the person I thought I’d become. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m useless. My phone rings again. I go to decline it, I can’t. 
Wilbur’s face greets me. His contact photo, the two of us at the amusement park I helped them film for Tommy’s vlog channel. We’re smiling. His arm over my shoulder, and my head on his arm. I remember that day. Wilbur held me for a bit while Tommy and Phil were off filming a different part of the vlog with Russ. I was overwhelmed and so was he, so we took the time to chill by the snack stands. He got tommy cotton candy, and we split popcorn even though he couldn’t really taste it. We spent a good time just taking funny pictures with each other. I remember that day, it was a great one.
Tears breach my eyes before I can stop them. A sob ripping through me, I force my face into the pillow to muffle it. The ringing stops. My tears don’t, and that makes me feel so much worse. My chest convulses as my sobs reverberate through the room. I’m a mess. I’m laying in my bed, rotting. Wasting away and feeling sorry for myself. Everything is terrifying, every breath I take reminds me of how I’m alive. Reminds me of how I can’t escape the feeling of impending doom that washes over me. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. I was never permanent. 
I knew I couldn’t do this. I’ve been lying to myself, little lies, white lies. To convince myself everything was okay. That it was fine for me to fall in love, it was fine for me to believe I wasn’t just taking up space. That I wasn’t slowly getting tired. 
Contemplating whether or not cut myself some slack–but ending up just cutting myself loose. I lift the duvet from my head, staring at the ceiling. My eyes flick to the ground, clothes and food everywhere. Some of it’s moldy. It makes me feel worse about myself. Turning my head, I look to my PC. I should sell it. Someone else would be much happier with it. I haven’t used it in a while anyways. I can’t take care of any of the stuff I have can I? 
My phone rings again, this time I do answer. 
“Oh my god–” I hear multiple people take a sharp breath in. I can’t stop myself from making a small noise of confusion. “Hey..Your boss–called us.” I recognize the voice to be Joe. I lift the phone, checking the caller ID. It was Wilbur again. “Wil—?” It hurts so bad to talk, I haven’t used my voice this much since the end of October. I hear a choked noise and whispers. “We’re gonna—come over there okay? The tour ended last night, no gigs for a while. Wil’s been missing you y’know.” I can’t tell who said that, “I–no. Sorry.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I hung up either.
Maybe deep down I did want them to help, I do want their help. But logically–It’s for the best.
I swing my legs over the side of my bed, cringing at how my clothes hang off of me. My back hurts something awful. I’m so tired. 
Yet I stand on two feet and walk to my bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize them. My hair–too long and too oily for it to be mine. My skin is pale and the bags under my eyes are so dark they could rival a racoon. 
It’s then that my legs decide to give out. I can feel my knees split as I hit the tile. I’m so tired. I look down at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s one of Wil’s. I can’t remember when I put it on. I can’t remember a lot of things recently. Like when this got so bad. Or when my arms started to sting. My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad.
When I wake up it’s to voices around me. I’m laying on something warm–It’s moving. I can’t find it in myself to open my eyes. My breathing picks up, and I hear an intake of air accompanied by a hand on my forehead. My eyes are shooting open in fear before I’m trembling. He’s above me, looking down at me like I could break.
I look around, there's two other people. I can barely make them out. Joe and Ash. It’s hard to think. It’s so hard to think. 
“There you are..” Wilbur whispers, his pointer finger gently stroking my cheekbone. “What happened to you love?” I can’t tell if it’s his tone, or the fact he looks so broken. But I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my body from turning into him, hiding myself away. Embarrassment filled me, they’d seen it all. The moldy food, the dirty clothes. They probably saw the abundance of mail I'd gotten as well. People are walking out the room. Not Wilbur, he stays. He stays and makes me look at him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna help you shower, and they’re going to clean and get you food. Okay?” My eyes widened. I shake my head so quickly it hurts. His face falls, he looks down at what I’m wearing. His face falls even more. “Love…” He whispers. “I don’t–I can’t. Don’t make me.” I whisper. Wilbur wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “No. You’re going to get clean, eat, and then you will sleep for however long you need to.” He lifts me like I’m nothing.
He sets me on the toilet, turning to the tub and turning on the faucet. He waits for it to get warm before he’s plugging the drain and helping me get undressed. He brushes the hair from my face, he frowns at the sight of the back of my head. He looks down at my arms before I can see him clenching his jaw. “We’ll work on the matts too.” He picks me up again, placing me in the tub and going to shut the door. He grabs a towel from the cabinet, as well as a washcloth. He swipes the comb from the counter.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but whisper. He sighs. “I know. But it’s alright. We were worried about you.” Was all he said before he’s dousing my hair in water. He keeps a hand on my forehead, stopping the water from getting into my eyes. And with that, he applies conditioner and starts to de-matt my hair. An hour and countless tub refills later, my hair is de-matted and I’m clean. Feeling slightly better too. Wilbur gave me the crewneck he was wearing for comfort, before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room to grab other clothes. The sounds from the outside are a lot less foggy now. I can hear the boys outside bickering and talking. “Are they okay Wil?” “What happened?” “From your face, I can tell it wasn’t good.”
I can’t help but stand weakly, the towel wrapped around me. I look in the mirror. I look a little more like myself. I touch my face, I look pale. I am pale. My hair is a bit longer now. I don’t smell bad anymore. I do feel better, but I can’t help but think I’m making Wilbur do this.
Wilbur reappears, he looks at me and smiles. He hands me the clothing he picked out before leaving the room once again, though he stands just outside the door.
I dress quickly. Slipping on Wilbur’s crewneck once I have my shirt on. I walk out, giving Wilbur a small smile. “You uh–You didn’t have to do this.” He takes my hand and leads me through my now clean apartment. “I did. Because if I didn’t–If we didn’t, you’d be dead right now, or you’d have killed yourself soon.” He says, sitting me down at the table that’s been cleared off. “Now, be honest. When is the last time you remember eating something?” He asks. 
My face drops. That’s the thing–I can’t. “Uh–Tuesday?” I say, like I even know what day it is, his face falls. “It’s Friday.” He deadpans before going into the kitchen, he comes back with Ash, Mark, and Joe. They each have both in their hands. Wilbur has two.
“It’s just soup. Easy on the stomach.” Joe pipes up before sitting on my right, Wilbur sits on my left, and Ash and Mark sit across from me. “We don’t need to talk about things right now, no one is going to make you. But you need to talk to someone soon. Maybe not us, but someone.” Wilbur said, putting his hand on my knee. “Yeah. I think I can do that.” They smile, I eat my soup, and for the first time since September–I feel permanent. 
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taibhsearachd · 2 months
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Hey, for real? Can we stop using "biting" to describe what Wilbur did to Shelby? Because I think "assault" is a much better word. She explicitly revoked her consent, and then he hurt her more. Wilbur assaulted Shelby.
The problem isn't the biting. That's a neutral action that can be loving, can be gentle, can be consented to.
He fucking assaulted her. There are memes about it because it apparently seems childish and funny, and it's not. She asked to stop being hurt and he did not stop.
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haunted-headset · 4 months
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📱 Going Postal At The Party 📱
summary: Wilbur thinks you're cheating on him at a party. Turns out he was very wrong.
a/n: this was based off of either a Chris or Matt Sturniolo fic that I read that I can't remember the name of, if any of you know what this fic is, plz lemme know!
contains: cursing, angst with a happy ending, flirting, crying, texts, use of Y/N, pet names, jealousy, Wilbur's a bit of a dick, mentions of bad exes & thought of cheating (let me know if i missed anything!!
tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)
word count: 942
You had dragged Wilbur to a house party your friend invited you to. You could tell he didn't want to, mainly due to the fact that his mind would be plagued by the idea of other people hitting on you or trying to get with you. It also didn't help that you looked drop-dead gorgeous; you had a white button-up shirt tucked into short, tight denim shorts with a black tie & fishnets; truly a sight for sore eyes.
"I'm gonna go get us some drinks, okay?" you said to Wilbur, who had his arms wrapped around your waist.
"Alright, love. Be careful. & come back quickly," he told you, kissing your forehead. You smiled & left for the bar. You told the bartender the drinks you wanted & you sat on one of the sticky stools, waiting for your drinks to be prepared.
"Oh my god, Y/N!" a cheerful voice said from behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see Claude, an old coworker back when you used to work at the coffee shop across the street from your shared apartment with Wilbur. "It's been forever, girl!"
"Claudy!" you said happily, giving him a hug. "It's been ages! How's life been?"
"I got engaged!" he said, showing you the ring on his finger. You gasped & clapped happily, holding his hand to examine the ring. "He's such a good guy. His name's James, 6'4, plays the drums, & he loves cats & rain."
"Sounds like a Wattpad dream man," you teased. He playfully swatted your arm with a laugh.
"How's your relationship with Wilbur been?" he asked. "Last time I remember, you were head over heels for him, right?"
"He's the best," you said dreamily. "He's such a gentleman, & he's so good to me."
"That's good!" he said, his hand now resting on your arm. "I'm so happy for you, Y/N. You deserve him. & this is a reward for having to put up with shitty exes."
"Oh my God, you're so right," you said, resting your hand on his arm, too. "Remember Jared?"
"Oh. My. Days," he sighed. "Such a dickhead. Girl, I have no idea how you survived being in a relationship with him. Give me some of your patience right now."
You laughed & were about to say something when you felt your phone buzz. "It's probably from Wil," you told Claude. You opened up the text.
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Your heart started to beat out of your chest. Did he actually think you were cheating on him?
"You okay?" Claude asked. You didn't respond.
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Claude had seen the texts & let you leave without a word. You walked outside & it was pouring rain, which meant you had to stand in the rain for at least five minutes until your ride came. Great.
When the Uber finally arrived, you were shivering & dripping with rainwater & the smell of petrichor hung on your skin, & you got into the car as you tried your hardest not to cry.
"How's your night been?" the Uber driver asked.
"It's been alright!" you lied, putting on a fake happy tone. "How about you?"
"Eh, not too bad," she said. "My girlfriend didn't want me to take any drives tonight because of how rainy it is." She laughed slightly. "She's always so worried for me." You laughed in return & you two didn't say anything for the rest of the night.
When she pulled up to the house, she politely bid you adieu & made sure you got to the door before driving off. You opened the door to the apartment & looked around. He wasn't in the kitchen or in the living room. Maybe he hadn't gotten home yet. You took off your shoes & left your bag on the kitchen counter as you trudged upstairs.
"Darling!" Wilbur sprang up from the bed when you entered the bedroom. He immediately dropped to his knees & kissed the backs of your hands, the palms, the knuckles, & the wrists while telling you how wildly sorry he was.
"What's on the bed?" you asked, looking over at the bed, covered in objects.
"Your favorites," he told you, standing up. "Snacks, candy, drinks, & your favorite flavor of ice cream. I also got you those new slippers you had wanted the other day when we were at Target, a blanket, & a few stuffed animals, too. There's a cat, a Pompompurin,--I'm pretty sure he's your favorite Sanrio character, but, if I was wrong, I got you a Keroppi plush, too, & a My Melody one--& a green dinosaur that looks like Dino from that one game you like...what was it called? Oh, yeah, Like A Dino. I also restocked your skincare stuff & your hair stuff, since you told me you were running out."
Without even realizing it, you started crying. You brought a hand up to your mouth to hide the expression you were making when you cried.
"Did I do something wrong, baby?" asked Wilbur, kissing your hairline & your forehead repeatedly. "Why're you crying?"
"I-I just--I got so mad at you over text & you still got all of this for me," you hiccupped.
"You had every right to be mad at me, my moon," he whispered, removing your hand away from your mouth to press a light kiss to your lips. "I was a bitch & I was being so rude to you, & you didn't deserve that." Without warning, he picked you up bridal-style, causing you to yelp & immediately wrap your arms around his neck.
"C'mon, sweet baby. Pick a movie & let's go cuddle."
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I think one of the most important aspects of the c!tntduo dynamic is that at the end of the day, they’re both just a couple of losers
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fernlessbastard · 7 days
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Quackity's a workaholic.
He would spend nights working instead of sleeping, but eventually, when Las Nevadas was developed enough to mostly run itself, that it isn't just work. He could never truly sleep, never wanted to fall asleep, scared of his own mind when not focused on something, only sometimes pushing himself to rest through alcohol or pure exhaustion.
Wilbur on the other hand never had issues falling asleep. It came to him naturally, or maybe it was the constant exhaustion (especially after revival). He could never really sleep though. He would fall asleep, but not rest, half conscious most of the time, or experiencing terrible nightmares and waking up in the middle of the night.
Inspired by your recent art, Quackity would sometimes just stare at sleeping Wilbur. But, Wilbur would often stare at sleeping Quackity in the morning, admiring his lover when he's all soft and calm, and thinking of ways to surprise him with something nice when he wakes up. Maybe he should make him breakfast.
Ok so I love this cause I absolutely adore the "opposites attract" HCs with Q but it'd always be like "well they both definitely have sleep issues" but this is a way to have both and like that's a major slay
Three little hcs regarding their sleeping habits: 1. they both have a tendency to wake up when the other does, just automatically - they're just synchronised (most of the time at least one of them falls right back asleep tho); 2. Wilbur's weak sleep is significantly worse when Quackity's still working - like, he will finally come to bed and Wil's asleep but then Q sits down on the bed (quietly as fuck) and Wilbur's like "hey"; 3. they switch around their sleeping positions, but Wilbur absolutely loves being the small spoon - partly cause he's always cold, but mainly cause he wasn't held enough as a kid/hj
Aaaand in the spirit of the ask, a little headcanon that's tied up with this (plus more at the end):
Common one, but I'll elaborate - Quackity's warm, Wilbur's cold. So, of course Wilbur's cold after revival cause his body's kinda fucked up and all that. Quackity - for a normal human (or a normal animal hybrid I guess idk works with duck too) consistently has a pretty high body temperature. He prefers sleeping mostly undressed (maybe with shorts on but that's not a guarantee/lh), he usually has to unbutton his shirt a bit lower than standard (I mean he's also a whore but it's a 2 in 1 y'know), etc etc.
Now, with Schlatt that resulted in limited cuddling even in the honeymoon phase cause the other also had a higher body temperature, and they'd just end up sweaty and uncomfortable.
With Eret the relationship started with a generic, platonic, positive message ("you matter ♡ -Eret" which they gave out to people in general just as a nice gesture, but nothing romantic) and ended with Q alone at the altar, so it's probably safe to say that didn't really come up.
With Karl and Sapnap though his body temperature was both too much, and not enough - Sapnap, as a demon hybrid, was much warmer, so with him cuddling wasn't really the most comfortable long-term, and while Karl was slightly on the colder side, Quackity wasn't as warm as Sapnap, so Karl would mostly cling to the latter. They'd try to make it all "even", but the emotional and physical distance was still noticeable.
And then there's Wilbur.
In pogtopia they didn't really cuddle much, but whenever they touched shoulders or leaned against each other Quackity noticed that Wilbur would frequently lean in for just a second longer than normal. This came back 10x stronger after revival. With a lot of Wilbur's nerves and blood vessels fucked up, he's pretty cold most of the time. The first time they cuddle he absolutely sinks into the embrace, making a comment about how nicely warm the other is. Quackity doesn't expect it to hit him as hard as it does. He giggles, slightly flustered, and dismisses it as Wilbur just being colder. From then on it repeats, and soon enough Quackity returns the favour by unintentionally hitting Wilbur with something along the lines of "you're like, the perfect temperature". See, Wilbur's always been on the colder side. He'd hear comments about how cold his hands were - not to even mention post revival - and he never really thought much of it, until Quackity's comment just hit him like a ton of bricks, and he just felt so perfectly in place in Q's arms. They just form the perfect temperature equilibrium; not too warm, not too cold - just perfect.
Little bonus: Quackity starts occasionally taking a jacket or sth with him even though he doesn't need it but he knows Wilbur will probably get cold (and need a second jacket).
Another little bonus that connects this HC to a different one about Quackity having sensory issues. VERY tldr is that sometimes he just gets this intense physical discomfort in his limbs (AuADHD moment), and only way to lessen it is intense stretching, OOOORR using Wilbur as his personal ice bag. There'll be nights where Wilbur will try to move his foot cause "it's probably too cold and bothering Q" just for Quackity to "scold" him for moving it cause it was pressing perfectly into his calf and keeping him from losing his mind cause of sensory issues.
Also they both have food sensitivities, but Q's are more broad, and sometimes they'll spend hours arguing(/lovingly) over what to get on pizza, or when they go to a new food place sometimes Wilbur will just look at Quackity who's staring at the idk olives he accidentally ordered in his food (cause he didn't know the dish contained them) and he will just silently slide over his plate so that his boyfriend can peacefully pick all of them out and give them to Wilbur. When Wilbur encounters food sensitivities - say, in a restaurant - Quackity will go full Karen mode and make sure his boyfriend gets only the food he wants.
Continuing the topic of mental health, sometimes Wilbur will struggle with hygiene during depressive episodes, to which Quackity will either motivate him with showering together(/nsx), a shared bath, if he's doing worse, or in the worst case scenario he'll help him clean himself up with a damp cloth (no judgement, no comments even, just love and support)
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melit0n · 5 months
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I'm so done with him
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