*Starkid Oneshots!*

Wiggle His Way // Paul x Emma

This was requested from AO3! (Also, I had a look back at my old Wattpad account and I have never cringed harder. Its horrific.

Anyway!

(I hate Tim so fuCKin much)

Ship: Paul x Emma (Paulkins)
AU: Infected by Wiggly while caring for Tim
Musical: Black Friday
TW: Strong language, Black Friday spoilers

Requested by an AO3 user.

This entire story is essentially just: "Have you heard of our lord and saviour Wiggly?"

-

As the time neared ever closer to 7 am, the moon slowly started to set as the golden sun rose over Hatchetfield. The rows of homes along the island lit up with lights, certain people setting up Christmas decor, and some simply waking up for the day ahead of them.

The line for Toy Zone drew as far as the eye can see, queues of adults just waiting for a Wiggly. The doors were yet to open.

Tom Houston nattered away happily with Becky Barnes, and every so often they would chuckle. No one addressed the fact that Becky let him cut in line, despite her nagging away at Linda Monroe for doing the same thing just mere minutes earlier.

And Tom' son, Timothy, sat in his kitchen, pushing cereal around in his bowl sadly.

Emma and Paul watched discreetly from the living room. Their heads peered around the door before snapping them back when Tim looked over.

Making their way back to the couch, Emma spoke, "what are we gonna do, Paul?"

He remained silent and sat uncomfortably on the couch, straight up, not touching the back of the sofa.

Emma sighed audibly and plopped down next to him. She buried her face in her hands, but not before pulling her hat off her head and tossing it unceremoniously across the room.

Paul, his discomfort growing by the second, took it upon him self to try, at least try, and help. He patted Emma's back stiffly, "Emma..." he trailed off. Words stopped forming, and so instead he turned to physical comfort.

"I just... he's the only family I've got left, Paul. And now, instead of having a nice family get together, he' spending the whole damn day looking for... a fucking toy!" Emma exclaimed, exasperated.

Paul ever so gently put his arm around her shoulder and encouraged her closer. She welcomed the inconspicuous invitation and took to relaxing against Paul's arm. "Emma, he'll be back eventually, he can't spend the whole day shopping." He smiled brightly and gently pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

Emma fiddled with the bottom of Paul's Christmas jumper absentmindedly, as Paul spoke. She looked to him and shook her head, "he can of he's trying to buy a Tickle-Me fucking Wiggly."

"Dad's getting a Tickle-Me Wiggly?" The small voice sounded, and it echoed around the room.

Emma covered her mouth.

"Did we ruin the surprise, Emma..?" Paul mumbled almost inaudibly into Emma's ear.

She muttered into her hands and looked up at Tim, standing prominently in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

"I asked a question," he repeated, hands resting on his hips, the pinnacle of 9 year old authority.

Paul decided he would take control of the situation, "well, Tim, you see. Your dad wanted to get your Christmas pre-"