dsmp christmas oneshots

my only wish

trigger warnings at the end of the oneshot

☃

wilbur taps his foot as his glass slowly fills with water, cursing the tap's water pressure for making him wait when he has a show to go and watch.

the christmas season was literally invented to give teens an excuse to curl up in bed and hermit away eating sugary food and watching rubbish tv. it's like, tradition or something. being lazy is aesthetic in winter like it isn't in summer.

if wilbur could be bothered, he would probably make himself a nice hot chocolate with whipped cream and the new big marshmallows that his dad bought, but that would require even more waiting around than water so he doesn't bother.

he flips off the tap and steps away when the glass is full, bringing it up to his lips and gulping a few mouthfuls to wash away the aftertaste of the wotsits he just ate.

taking his glass, wilbur turns to leave the kitchen and move out into the hallway.

wilbur sort of constantly lives in his own head. he hardly pays attention to the world around him and can easily go hours on end without hearing noises in the world beyond his own mind. it always got him in trouble at school when he would zone out, only able to think about what he wanted to think about at the time but he never tried to overcome the habit.

he likes the comfort of his own thoughts, they're much easier to understand than all of the confusing things that go on around him.

wilbur can't crawl inside other people's thoughts and, therefore, he finds himself often confused by others' actions. he wishes he had a mind-reading ability just so he could understand other people's thoughts and intentions, so that their odd behaviour made sense.

for example, wilbur finds himself befuddled as he passes the doorway to the lounge, pausing as he catches sight of tommy sitting on the floor by the fire.

he seems all quiet and content, which is odd for the usually loud boy - not to mention the fact he is just sitting there instead of playing with his toys like normal.

wilbur continues to watch his little brother from the doorway, squinting slightly to see better without his glasses on.

tommy's little back expands on an inhale before he sighs, long and loud, and wilbur watches with utmost confusion as his brother throws a piece of lined paper onto the fire.

the unlit fire.

then, like nothing ever happened, tommy gets up and walks away from the fireplace, leaving through the side of the lounge and out into the conservatory, where they store his toys like some makeshift playroom.

wilbur, ever the thinker, ever the one to want answers, walks into the lounge. a little voice in his head tells him that this is intrusive but, then again, his brother is literally six so it's not like he can have many wild secrets to keep.

he crouches down by the practically forgotten-about fireplace, not even being able to remember the last time they lit it, and plucks the folded paper out from where it had become trapped between two thick logs of firewood.

conscious of the fact that tommy could return to the living room and see him at any given moment, wilbur gets up with the sheet still in hand and makes his way back out to the hallway.