MCYT one-shots!
[_REQUESTS CLOSED_]
I'll basically do anything as long as the cc's is okay with it!
I won't be doing any smut shots, don't really have anything against it. I just can't write it, sorry.
It will mostly be sleepybois inc. Oneshots, mo...
Tw: Dysphoria and profanity Ship: none Request:ChaiCha0s
In which Wilbur has a breakdown over going to the beach. ==========
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(Some context cause this is a long chapter)
Wilbur's pov:
Fuck I should have stayed home.
I should have stayed in my stupid office chair, I should be fucking around on minecraft. Maybe even streaming.
But no.
Noo I'm sitting in this car, this dumb grey car. On the edge of an anxiety attack, god I'd do anything to just go back home. Where I'm safe. I could be sitting on my couch watching Netflix and letting time tick away infront of my eyes.
Puffing out my shirt for the millionth time, I shift in my seat. (I'm so uncomfortable in this shirt, it wasn't as loose as my other t-shirts.) Mentally rolling my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest.
Saturday, 2:45 am
Hopping on discord, I had just got done streaming. I was just shitting around with Tommy and Quackity, it was more of a boring stream for me (I let Quackity do his bits and entertain my stream for the most part). It was mostly dry, I haven't really been feeling myself lately.
I rub my nose and sniff a bit, I contemplate joining a call with schlatt. I mean he's online right now..
"Fuck it" I mumble under my breath and click to enter his channel.
"Wilbur! Whats up buddy?" His loud recording voice projects through his mic, "hey schlatt.." I could see him frown at the tone of voice I used.
"Whats wrong man?"
I look down, not really knowing what to say.. what do I even say? That I want to rip off my fucking skin, that I want to float away in a abyss of nothingness, that all I want to do is exist peacefully with out having to think 'is my chest if flat enough?'
Sighing, "I– I have that feeling again.. and I fucking hate it"
"Wil how long have you been wearing you binder?"
I shut my eyes closed while looking at my feet, I know the damn answer to the question.
"Wilbu–" I cut him off before he can continue his investigation,
"13 hours.." whispering out. I didn't want to look up at his disappointed face. I knew what he was going to say, I just didn't want to expect that fact.
