#Technically I suppose. Hi Wilb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nostalgic-pancakes · 3 years

Text

one day (i know that you will be there)

Summary: Here, have some fluffy transbur :D

Pairings: gen everyone, with a specific focus on crimeboys

Read on AO3

Word count: 2070

Warnings: None? I guess? Tell me if there are any, but I don’t see them

Other notes: Part of @noorahqar‘s BANGER discord server Pride Event!

Please DO NOT send this to the CC’s or even imply that this exists because No, Thank you

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Sometimes, it feels like it's okay. Nothing's wrong at all and in fact, Wilbur is happy.

Other times it feels like he's stuck in his own skin, a place he can't get out of.

Wilbur doesn't really know what's going on with his gender. He's always been cis, it's all he knows we it's his comfort zone. Even while his life was being wholly upended by YouTube, and Twitch and life in general, Wilbur's gender was always a constant- the one thing he never worried about or spent too much time on. It was his gender, and it was just kind of...there.

Sometimes when gender is part of the conversation, people display confusion when Wilbur talks about his gender like something separate from him that was tied on and is just there now, like a bit of hair that can never stay in place, but isn't necessarily a bother, either. But isn't gender like that for everyone?

Well, according to the one and only Tommyinnit, no.

"Well… for me, my gender is pretty malleable. It's more of a fucking... fucking abstract concept than a feeling? I'm a little detached from mine, but not as much as that, Wilbs."

"Then what is your gender like?" Wilbur asks. It's late on a Friday night, and Wilbur had ended up visiting Tommy's flat out of mostly impulse, living just under a kilometre away from his sibling these days. They're in the living room, splayed out on the floor talking about anything and everything in the dark, too quiet to wake Tubbo and Ranboo.

Wilbur’s not agender- he has a gender that he keeps around, even if it stays reasonably sectioned away from the rest of him.

Tommy hums, an older tune that Wilbur can't place as he fiddles around with some wool scraps ("Cabbages!" Tommy insists indignantly) leftover from the cardigan they had just finished when Wilbur walked in. It's a burgundy colour that's probably going to be matched with one of Tommy's longer cream skirts to University Monday morning.

"My gender is a… a kind of vibe? I guess? To me it feels like skirts doing that cool swoosh thing in the wind around you while you walk or eating Tubbo's chicken soup and that feeling I always got after a Dream SMP stream. It's weird, but that's my gender I guess." And that is weird. It's weird as fuck, but Tommy's gender sounds really fucking cool so Wilbur tries anyways. Tries to imagine what his gender, the amorphous entity that it is, feels like to him.

It's hard, at first, but then Wilbur starts humming. He's always done better with auditory concepts than visual or tactile ones, strumming tunes together that tie in with his latest hyperfixation.

So Wilbur hums. He starts with 'White Wine in a Wetherspoons' and then 'Cause for Concern' with a little bit of 'Your new Boyfriend' thrown in for posterity as it all starts to come together. Tommy starts tapping his finger on the plywood floor, creating a small beat.

His gender feels nice, actually, and not just the neutral burden that the universe has him carry around. It begins to feel like the warmth in Wilbur's chest when someone says "Hey, don't stop. Tell me more, this is interesting" to even the most niche fixations that Wilbur has ever had, like the different types of bricks or the historical fashion one he had at the same time as Tommy and they made dozens of Pinterest boards together (1830’s hairstyles his beloved). It feels like Phil calling him 'Son' in that chamomile accent, like everything will be fine. It feels like the tipsy laughs he and Niki share when getting drunk together and it sounds like the quick, comforting 'bzzt bzzt bzzt' of Tommy's sewing machine running on the other side of the flat while Wilbur makes them breakfast because they and his flatmates are fundamentally incapable of looking after themselves.

It's really a pretty nice gender, actually. So when Wilbur closes its metaphorical pouch and clips it back onto his metaphorical backpack, he feels lighter, warmer inside than before. Is this how Tommy feels sometimes?

The tapping stops and Wilbur realises that Tommy's fallen asleep, surrounded by scraps of cabbage on a fairly cold plywood floor. This will not do. Thankfully, Wilbur has gained enough arm strength to reasonably carry the nineteen-year-old to his bedroom, carefully avoiding sewing pins that Tommy will clean up frantically in the morning. Tubbo and Ranboo are asleep as before, in the same place, huddled together on the lowest bunk covered in blankets, with just enough room for another person.

Tommy fits in perfectly, head on Ranboo's shoulder and the rest of him swathed in blankets to protect from the cold. It's started to show fairly heavily outside so going home is not possible. Therefore, Wilbur stays.

The guest room still has some of his shit from the last time he stayed over, around a week ago. Piling a thick-ish duvet on top of himself, Wilbur sleeps, more at peace than he's ever been.

Monday morning, Wilbur tries out pronouns. He was spending the weekend in a bit of a haze of filming and social interaction and talking to Elodie, his editor, in order to have most of this week free.

He's back at home with pronoun dressing rooms loaded on Firefox, a Geoguessur stream finished and a free day with spoons to spare. It is time.

First- she/her.

This is Wilbur, the site reads, She's 27 years old with a penchant for making songs. She also really likes hanging out with her sibling, Tommy and her best friends on the Dream SMP. She still ships DNF.

Oh. Oh wow. She/Her works pretty well actually. Wilbur likes that for herself.

Next- they/them. This is not as nice, but it's also not bad, necessarily.

Fae/Faer- this one is pleasant enough.

Everything else is okay, Wilbur supposes. She figures that just knowing that he/him isn't the only answer is good enough for herself.

The first person she tells is Tommy, on a phone call during one of his frees.

“Okay, so he, she and fae, right?” they ask, rolling the pronouns around like the colorful hard candies sold in packets of two hundred each, muttering small sentences, barely audible to the phone mic amongst the dozens of student voices around him, pitter-pattering like sleet on cars heard from a cozy living room.

“Yeah. pronouns change by the day. Please don’t interchange them.” Wilbur confirms, short and soft.

“Oh that’s really fucking cool. What are they today? Does anyone else know? Do you have names you want to be called instead?” Tommy asks, orange-sweet in his kind concern and slowed down questions as to not deflate the souffle in Wilbur’s brain.

“Uh, she/her, and no, not yet on the knowing and the name thing. I’m going to tell Phil and Niki, then Dream, probably. Wish me luck.” Wilbur answers, the ‘wish me luck’ thrown in more as a formality than anything, but she’s still nervous, thoughts spinning in popcorn-crunch circles, pop pop pop about how it could go wrong and even if Tommy and Ranboo were accepted, perhaps that courtesy won’t be extended to her. Tommy, the absolute fucking legend as always seems to have figured that much out.

“Wil. Wilbur. Wilby. Big Dubs- It’s going to be fucking fine, you’re popcorn-popping again and while that’s one of your idiosyncrasies and I fucking love those, you are also freaking the fuck out. Everything will be fine, alright?”

“Idiosyncrasies? Where did you learn that? Is ‘The Tommyinnit’ learning new big words?” Wilbur teases, to mask her affection just a little bit, even as it seeps out of her voice like honey in a sopapilla, warm and sticky and sweet.

“Don’t fucking patronize me.” Tommy retorts, instinctive as it’s been for the past few years now, no bite behind their words. “I’ve got South Asian Lit now- call us in the evening?” he asks, because Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo are a single unit in the evening. Do not attempt separation till after midnight. Wilbur laughs, a small thing only audible to her sibling over the phone.

“Course. You can tell them yourself, if you want.”

“Okay. Now I need to walk like, three buildings or some shit, so I’m hanging the fuck up. See you later?” Tommy’s voice is softer towards the end, cotton candy and Wilbur melts, just a little bit.

“Okay, bye Tommy.”

“Bye Wil. Good luck.” Tommy hangs up a few seconds later, the last thing on the line that Wilbur can hear being Ranboo’s steadily louder voice as end catches up to Tommy, and Wilbur keeps the phone to her ear for a few seconds more, before putting it on charge and loading up Discord, to find Phil and Dream on VC 3 together, Tubbo and Purpled occupying the beloved VC 2.

Wilbur joins the call, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, and taking a sip of lukewarm tea. Earl Grey, probably taken from the tea box Phil gifted her on Christmas and prepares herself.

“Ay, H’lo, son.”

“Hey, Wilbur!” Dream’s voice, chirpy and crisp as a freshly-picked apple registers first, just before Phil’s comforting chamomile and Wilbur is at ease very quickly, because it’s Dream and Phil. It is literally impossible for things to go wrong.

“Hi! I just came on here to tell you something.” Wilbur starts. After hearing noises of agreement, like popping candy, Wilbur starts.

“Um, so on Friday, Tommy and I did some soul-searching. Well, I did most of the searching. And uh, I figured out that I’m technically genderfluid, but my gender is a series of abstracts and I use he, she and fae pronouns.” It’s quiet for a second, before Phil responds.

“Hey, that’s pogchamp, mate. What pronouns are you using right now? Are they interchangeable?” Dream makes a noise in agreement, in questioning.

“Thanks, and uh, she/her, and no. not interchangeable. I use certain pronouns until I don’t.”

“Oh, that’s cool! Should I update your pronoun role in the Discord to ‘ask for pronouns’?” Dream finally says, and in typical Dream fashion, it’s by getting straight to business. It’s ridiculously endearing, even five years on, knowing everyone’s little quirks and idiosyncrasies (thanks Tommy for reminding her that the word exists) that it’s still possible to be endeared by them, and that they’re all still endeared to her.

“Yes please, Dream. Thank you. I’ll make a small announcement on the server myself, but thanks.”

“No problem, Wilbur! We’re glad you’re happy.”

“What the green-bitch said, mate.” Phil responds, and Dream turns on his camera for that only, just to show that he isn’t actually wearing green- he’s wearing a blue T-shirt, blonde hair mussed about enough to show that he did not comb it when he woke up. His face still has some sleep leftovers, but he’s awake enough to pay attention, and he’s smiling at Wilbur, mouse clicking very fast to change her discord role, and it shows up a few seconds later with a purple dot. ‘ask for my pronouns’. Wilbur is smiling like an idiot, and she turns on her camera, Phil following suit as she starts laughing a little wetly and all of this sinks in.

Wilbur is gender-fluid. She loves herself, her family and the little pouch still strapped to her backpack. Phil is whispering things into the mic soothingly and Dream is grinning at her, and it just feels so good. The bad feeling in Wilbur’s skin just isn’t here today, and it feels like it won’t be around for a while yet.

With slightly blurry eyes trying to see through her glasses, Wilbur makes an announcement with the @everyone turned on.

Bitchbur (she/her today): @everyone I’m here to announce that I’m genderfluid! You can either ask me my pronouns or I’ll just change my nick. The name’s still Wilbur. That’s about it.

Replies start coming in, nothing but messages of support and thumbs-up emoticons, and Wilber closes her eyes, leaning back in her chair, laughing a bit more. She’s so happy that she managed to accept herself, and find acceptance in everyone else on this server. She probably won’t come out to the internet for a while, or even to some of her real-life friends but that’s okay.

She’s got everything she needs right here.

#dream smp #mcyt #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #writers on tumblr #vee's writing #2021 #do not repost

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innittowinit · 3 years

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Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (Chapter 18)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

Wilbur and Techno go to school, eat lunch, and go to class B)

Chapter word count: 2209

AO3

School lunches were…..well they were school lunches. No matter how many people they painstakingly explained why they were the way they were to, there were always people that just never seemed to get it. That was fine, neither Wil nor Techno had ever asked for understanding, having learnt far too early that that was a big ask, instead they would gladly settle for respect. All they had ever really asked for was basic respect, all they wanted was for people to accept that they were going to stay together and that, no, Techno was not going to talk to them just because they gave him notes from class one time or helped clean his desk.

Teenage boys didn’t really seem to grasp the concept of respect. When they saw something they didn’t understand their reaction was to mock it, to make whoever was doing it so humiliated and ashamed that they wouldn’t dare make them confused ever again. Again, Techno and Wilbur both had a lot of experience with this, they knew what bullying was like and what was happening right now didn’t feel the same as the kids that had hurled insults at them in primary school. Nothing was physical anymore but it still hurt when they walked past the ‘popular’ group and they could hear the muffled conversations being had about them.

Wil had always been much more of a people person than Techno had, maybe that’s why it bothered him so much more that the fact that they were close seemed to confuse everyone else so much, Techno could tell that Wil desperately craved for a group of friends their own age that understood them and didn’t question it. Unfortunately, people like that were hard to come by.

They had Niki and they had Eret, that’s all they needed.

“It’s a nice place to chill out” Eret hummed as they led the twins out towards the school field, all three boys holding their lunches in their hands as Eret had said that today was a nice day and they’d be having a picnic outside instead. Technically, year 9’s weren’t allowed on the field at lunch anymore, at least not since Quackity (as he had been nicknamed around the school) stole a duck from the lake that bordered it. It was lucky that all three of them were pretty tall for their age, meaning they blended in well with the year 10’s that were playing football on the main section of the field, with the added bonus that nobody in that year really knew them so that meant no harassment.

Eret had led the twins to the very back end of the field, all the way to the rocky border of where the lake began, only stopping when he reached an old oak tree that’s trunk was considerably wider than any of the boy’s torso’s, taking his seat on top of his coat against the tree’s bark.

“What’s up with you guys today? if you don’t mind me asking, if it’s personal or anything that’s fine,you’re just not normally this….touchy? With each other. I probably worded that bad but you understand what I mean right?”

Wilbur nodded and then glanced to Techno for permission to tell the story, who simply shrugged in response. Both boys took their seats next to the tree and began unwrapping their lunches as Wilbur sorted out the events in his head, everything had happened so so fast and in slow motion, seemingly simultaneously, giving it a hazy and confusing feeling to try and look back on. He supposed that’s just how panic attacks felt in hindsight though, the adrenaline would make things feel fast and stressful of course, while the long reality gave it a much slower feeling than what was true.

“Techno got stuck in a shed yesterday” Blunt. It was easier to simplify it, Wilbur realised.

“Huh? How’d that happen?”

“I got in a fight with these boys who live near us, Techno got overwhelmed and left, the door got stuck and I freaked out. I dunno I didn’t realise i was being more touchy than normal but if i am it’ll probably be because I’m still a little bit shaken up I guess”

The fact that it had been brought attention to made everything seem a lot more obvious, suddenly he felt far more self conscious about having held Techno’s hand all day, about how he skipped music in favour of sitting with his brother in French, hell, even about how he had shifted himself when they sat down so that even when they were eating their knees were still touching. He hadn’t wanted to admit it but all the thoughts of whether or not he was ever going to see Techno again had culminated into a big ball in his stomach that seemed to grow whenever Techno stopped touching him. The reassurance that everything was okay was so so important to him and even if it was embarrassing to realise that he had been clinging onto his twin the whole day, he had known Techno long enough to know that if the touch was getting to be too much, he’d let him know, otherwise he’d just let him burn out all the anxiety until he was sufficiently reassured that nobody was planning on abandoning him.

After what had happened yesterday, Phil had called up their therapist and booked an ‘emergency session’ (Wilbur didn’t think it was an emergency but appreciated it nonetheless) so they could have a professional help work through what had happened. As much as he’d like to provide everything his brothers could ever need all by himself, he was mature enough to realise that some things couldn’t be handled by a 16 year old boy, he loved his brothers to bits and that’s exactly why he wanted them to have every chance needed to get better; the idea of them having to wait multiple days until their usual appointment made him feel a bit sick, they’d gone through something incredibly scary and they deserved to feel at least a little better before then. Said appointment was scheduled to be directly after school today so he wasn’t too stressed about clinging onto Techno for a long time anyway.

“Oh i didn’t realise it was something like that, sorry for bringing it up” Eret sighed, clearly a little guilty after having seen Wilbur try to decide whether he wanted to let go of Techno and be scared or stay and be clingy. He seemed thankful that the decision had ended up being to stay ‘clingy’, he wasn’t sure how he’d deal with it if he put Wilbur through all of that again just from a poorly worded comment.

Techno shook his head, glancing about a bit before deciding that nobody was paying them any mind. “You’re fine.” He muttered, patting his hand on Eret’s shoulder and tearing off a corner of his sandwich, popping it in his mouth afterwards, chewing a bit before talking again. “It’s not the first time it’s happened. Wil’s gonna be fine”

With a little nod, Eret visibly relaxed, of course it made sense to trust Techno on this topic far more than his own instincts, he’d known Wilbur far far longer and they did everything together. The confirmation that whatever damage wasn’t permanent seemed to provide some kind of comfort to him.

There it was again, Techno thought, that immediate acceptance. No questioning. No badgering. Nothing. He knew well enough that there were aspects that Eret didn’t fully understand since he hadn’t lived their life but the fact that he never once tried to press them to talk more than what they were comfortable with, or ask exceedingly personal questions like some people did, it just made Techno, at least if not Wilbur too, feel very seen and heard.

Many times in the past they’d been ‘friends’ with people who were really just using them as some kind of badge or token like- ‘oh look at me! I’m so nice I managed to get the weird kids to talk to me’. It always made Techno sick to his stomach when he realised someone he had trusted would betray them like that, to simply use them and nothing else. Techno was sure that Eret was not like this, he was real and down to earth and good, everything about him screamed trustworthy. At least now they had a good, real friend, who both of them were incredibly thankful for.

“Oh shit” There was a beeping noise coming from Eret’s phone, causing him to chance at the screen and groan “I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later i guess if we have any classes together”

With that, she packed up her things into little ziplock bags so they wouldn’t spill in her bag and closed everything up, backpack swung onto her shoulders before she waved and jogged back to the main school.

---

School was pretty uneventful the rest of the day, after lunch they had had science (or Techno had science and Wilbur refused to go to his own classroom) and Techno’s violin lesson.

“I’m not going anywhere y’know?” Techno sighed as they waited in the empty corridor for his teacher to show up, Wilbur latched onto him like a lost puppy.

“I know but every time you go behind a door or anything my head gets so loud and it feels like you’re gonna get stuck again. I don’t wanna annoy you, it’s just hard”

Techno sighed and pat Wilbur on the head, he wasn’t really up for a long conversation right now considering that even though the corridor was empty, it could quickly become not empty.

“You don’t annoy me, Wilbs”

In all honesty that was only half true, of course he would never have any strong feelings of anger and annoyance at his brother when he was only doing what was necessary to feel safe but when he was being grabbed and prodded at all the time, there was admittedly a part of him that wished they’d been brought up normally. In any case, any anger that came from Wilbur getting clingy at times was never directed at Wil himself, instead it was more so towards their parents for causing the damage in the first place.

“I’ve got both today? Oh that’s just great, go on in boys!”

Techno was brought out of his mind by his violin teacher walking up, a kind smile on her face as she greeted them. She had been one of the few people who accepted them for them from day one, of course at first she’d been a little hesitant considering she was only being paid to teach one boy but once Wilbur explained that he didn't even own a violin and he was just there because they did not split up she seemed to be fine with Wil sitting in during the lessons. Plus, it was a lot easier having someone who could translate Techno’s little shrugs and grunts.

Taking his violin out of the case, Techno situated himself in front of the music stand, flipping his folder to the piece they had been working on recently, Wilbur pulling up a chair and holding onto one of his belt loops, not wanting to grab his arm or anything big like that right now since playing the violin kind of needed your arms.

“Are we carrying on from last lesson? Getting lots of practice in at home, I hope!”

Techno nodded to both questions, he hadn’t really practiced as hard as usual but the week had been eventful so that was fine.

“Okay then, can I check if you’re tuned up? and then we’ll get started”

Leaning against the wall shortly afterwards, Techno handed the woman his violin, giving Wilbur a sympathetic smile when he saw the boy staring off into space. Surely he had places he would rather be than listening to Techno play his music, he didn’t even play the kind of music Wilbur liked! God. Times like this reminded him why he shouldn’t give up, it reminded him that getting help wasn’t going to ‘break’ the special bond they had, instead it would only strengthen it since they’d both have the freedom to do what they like.

“There we go!” “..Thanks”

The rest of the lesson was best described as peaceful, as different as Techno’s Classical violin concerto’s were to Wilbur’s indie guitar songs, he really did love listening to him place. There was a certain calmness that resonated whenever he did so, a wave of serenity that only painted his face whenever he was completely engrossed in a piece. The music was always things Wil would never go out of his way to listen to and if it wasn’t his brother playing he was sure he wouldn’t have such a strong connection to the music but right here, right now, listening to the careful notes was almost like a compulsion, beckoning him to stare at the dancing bow that was being pulled against the strings in a complete virtuosic pattern.

And so, as the beautiful music decorated the air, Wil decided that everything was okay, no matter how messed up they were, everything was going to be okay.

#sbi #sleepy bois inc #wilbur soot #wilbur #technoblade #fanfic #fanfiction

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