mentality - wilbur

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"Something like the reader has been struggling with mental health/insecurities and Wilbur helps them"

Requested by abro_kenon

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It's been the third day straight that you struggled to pull yourself out of bed, not for the lack of trying but, to put it simply, you were depressed and you were struggling. Mental health feels like a steep climb up a mountain, and right now you were at the bottom, fumbling with your gear, heart thumping in your chest in anxiousness as you look up at the mountain.

Thankfully you have someone to help you prepare that gear, someone who is more than prepared to take that climb with you and hold your hand along the way, to grab onto you and hold you if your foot slips. Someone named Wilbur.

He's been an angel the entire time, and, although he never really knew what the problem was since you struggle to open up, he still tried to keep your mood up in a more general way.

No matter what it was or if you didn't want to talk about it, your wavy-haired goof was always there to help you through it.

"Y/N," He announced his presence, peeking past the doorframe. "Do you want to try exercising with me? I plugged in our old Wii, it somehow still works."

You don't reply, but smile at him softly. He was so sweet, so caring. You feel like you don't deserve it.

Pushing the door open more and walking into the room, sitting on the side of your bed, he gives you a worried look, "Y/N?" He asks once more, this time in a tentative tone. "You don't have to get up right now, I just want to try and help."

You pull his hand into yours and brush your thumb over the back of it, "...I know." Taking a deep breath you push yourself up so you were now sitting; it took a lot of effort but one thing kept you going, and that was that Wilbur believed in you. 

"Wait, are you really gonna come play?" He asked, surprised. You nod and a grin split his face, as he stood up and made his way back to the door, "Okay! I'll get games set up, take your time, there's no rush."

He leaves and you smile to yourself, when he suddenly cracks the door open again and throws a white Wii remote onto your bed. "Remember to put the strap around your wrist or you're not allowed to play!"

You slip it over your wrist and secure it, staring down at the old, slightly dusty remote. 'So,' you think to yourself, wondering how sad you had to feel to be telepathically talking to a Wii.

'He saved you too, huh?'

'He really is amazing.'


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