Archive of Our Own

The vineyard was a beautiful sprawling field of pickets spaced by about two metres each side, the fishnet that carried swirling green vines of bush, drooped with heart shaped leaves. The brown tree-like stem shot up about two metres, but the only grapes lie at about waist height. Tubbo was stumpy only the straw flares of his hat point above the top hedge of the tree, Tubbo flicked between the leaves and spaces of this lace suspension, trudging in the mulchy sludge of the mud floor. Tubbo hummed momentarily as he turned on the ball of his foot, seeing the stretching olive branch as the grapes diamond spiked into the floor. He hummed and rubbed his thumbs at the clenched fists of his gloved green hands, the grey tight knit square pouch he clawed at its end with his tight thin nails that popped in the crinkled mitt. He let it slip out of his right hand and his left, as he bent, and let it thump to the floor. He scoffed a little as he began to check and feel each individual sphere as they dripped with moisture, He began to crack them from each nodule if imperfect and toss them aside, then breached the connecting ivy stick and took the whole collection of droplets to the sack, before shuffling aside for the next grape array of plant to pick.

Tubbo bent up as he flexed his arm, he saw through the window of parted foliage to see a fellow gardener who hunched, and then stretched up tall reaching near the top of the row, and his hat bobbing as he listened. Tubbo hitched a breath and the man stilled, before jumping to a squat and coiling himself as he rolled under the gap of roots and came up behind Tubbo, who yelled simulated and monotone to this display of friendly banter.

“ha-ha! Did I get you?” The tall bronze haired boy, his curly locks waved in the sweet breeze. He wore a flynet over his face, looking almost like a beekeeper. He wore a tightfitting brass button waistcoat and similarly high waisted pants both of a very baby blue. He was out of place, in every way his shoes a burgundy suede and he just tapped them to his ankle as he looked at Tubbo, dotted with dirt.

“Not a chance Will.” Tubbo replied simply with a scoff, He was much more at home, in a white long sleeve shirt with denim dungaree, a pair of garden pliers neatly clasped inside. He had much more sound boots that went up to the ball of his ankle and were a camouflaged brown thanks to the floor's manure makeup.

“Well, you should have humoured me.” Wilbur spoke bitterly, unhappy his fright didn’t succeed, he pouted a lip as Tubbo raised the veil onto his similarly straw wide brim hat.

“You shouldn’t look like a sore thumb.” Tubbo snapped back similarly astute, and serious, his words toned domineering like a disciplining parent, despite being the shorter and the younger of the two.

“I look snazzy, excuse you.” Wilbur spoke with pompous pitch, his words heightened and articulate, he mocked and bandied about a culture familiar to a Brit like the two of them, the stereotype ever solidified in the minds of the world. Tubbo only tutted again aghast at this clear ridicule.

“No one says snazzy, and no one looks like that, not even a Tory.” Tubbo rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, even though he faced away the clear apathy that exuded from him was pungent.

“Why have you got to be so difficult, Tommy is rolling on the floor at this point.” Wilbur yielded his routine to this negative aura. “What put you on the wrong side of the bed- Sorry, I mean. The work designated as a dirty mattress or choice of itchy hammock?” Wilbur rambled expressively, almost booming at the end in criticism. He pouted childishly too, as he clearly was rather bubbly and bouncy, Tubbo having by far been the opposite, and very focused on his work.

“Mhm.” Tubbo was ignorant to his questioning, he had moved down the line of fence, picking away again into his oblong pouch, lightly minced with the roughness of shuffling with his feet 'momentum. Wilbur came slowly, clenching his fist. He was in a strop.

“That was rude.” He spoke putting out his finger and shook it emotively, he was very physical and Tubbo just again huffed a hitched laugh, in this same judging, sick with Wilbur odious obnoxiousness. He just toiled; Wilbur crossed his arms, beginning to accept and understand.

“You will talk to me at break, right?” Wilbur made sure to confer his suspicion as he unwrapped his uninviting stance and softened with a slouch of the shoulders. Tubbo just smiled as a stem crack popped, filling the silence of the air.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t we.” Tubbo spoke soft and firm, as he flicked another bunch in the bundle, and Wilbur sighed finally understanding the misinterpretation he coined, Tubbo was just studious and hardworking, and stoic. He didn’t want to seem undignified. Wilbur turned, nodding as he came to his revelation, he watched the humming buzzards glide along the dusty grey road, there was a shiny mirage shooting across it as the family had come home.

“Here they come, there are rumours going about” Wilbur began again to speak as he crooked his way back to his side and caught up dodging a couple bunches to continue next to Tubbo.

“Oh god, I dread to think.” Tubbo replied sarcastically and Wilbur smacked his lips jaded with Tubbo’s display despite his understanding of it, self-interest didn’t allow him to be compromising.

“The son can only go to three places: their shop, the farm and their manor, because those are the bubble.” Wilbur spoke simply and pointedly, he picked at his own bouquet of purple berries.

“What the hell does that mean?” Tubbo replied sharply, he was much more genuine in this line of questioning, as he was actually rather interested in this sort of company gossip.

“Well… There are a couple possibilities” Wilbur began smugly, Tubbo rolled his eyes at theorising “The son is allergic to everything, his parents are just helicopter parents, or he is as ugly as an elephant’s bum.” Wilbur spoke brashly and brazenly, he was rather bombastic and not considering of consequence, a free bird. Tubbo just yet again illustrated his disapproval with a scornful sound.

“Wilbur!” A distant cracking voice came down, sprinting, two rows across from Tubbo and adjacent to Wilbur, a similarly tall blonde-haired boy, who wore a handkerchief at his neck and a white and red shirt, an overall of a lighter blue from age gracing the rest of his visible figure in the flickers of open hedgerows.

“Wilbur-” He tumbled faceplanting, his word cut off “Oof!” He exalted, winded but jumped back up, Wilbur gave a guffaw at this determination as the man skidded sending a pile of straw from his shoe to slap the air and eventually fall in distant plain like a falling satellite.

“You alright Tommy?” Wilbur stifled a laughing jitter to his words, as he spoke uphanded.

“Yeah” The young boy punched, his words were fast and flowing, he was thinking at a million miles it seemed, tapping his foot with anticipation to reveal his reasoning for such a dramatic entrance.

“So? Why the fuck-” Wilbur began, and Tubbo glared to him.

“Right, work appropriate.” Wilbur mumbled disheartened, then buzzed again with a shimmering gaze to Tommy, he spins in the air doing a pirouette.

“Oh Tommy,” He mocked a heightened feminine pitch, like a princess, clasping his hands at his chin and batting his eyes demurely. “Why doth you flibbertigibbet your fine derriere down to my field.” Wilbur spoke aggrandised with this posh persona again, and as he did predict Tommy wheezed and bent putting his hands on his knees and almost crumbled to the floor as he airily laughed. Tubbo just rolled his eyes as he inched away waging at these creepers.

“Ha-ha. That’s great-” Tommy huffed and spat a bit as he tried to reconvene his stature, he wiped himself off.

“Anyway, why are you here, chop chop.” Wilbur spoke distantly as he clapped his hands, ushering Tommy to get on with it, as Tubbo was escaping his way to mute their tones.

“You know Tubbo right.” Tommy spoke, and Tubbo flinched his way to a halt. “The family wants to see him.” Tommy whispered, but his attempt was royally overzealous as his voice still hitched with indignation was able to be heard by Tubbo easily.

“So, what should we do, Wilbur?” Tommy asked, alternating between his feet as he bounced.

“Well, Tubbo.” His double entendre showed the tightrope that Wilbur walked as he tried to be friends with the two of these conflicted boys.

“I’m sure will find his own way.” Wilbur finished astutely and Tubbo began to slink his way up the line Wilbur smiled as he heard the cracking sticks of his movements but distracted Tommy with a clear of the throat as Tommy gazed about cautiously.

“Hey Tommy.” Spoke Wilbur and Tommy hummed, it became distant as the two jesters seemed to recoil at some sort of joke, Tubbo just looked back for moments to see this as he rushed his way up the rolling hills to make it to the roadside.

“Well Tommy said he would go find the boy, He hasn’t come, and it’s been bloody minutes.” Spoke salt and pepper haired father of the family, he spoke impatiently. The son stood fiddling his fingers as he was aside his mother who coddled him, the parents were rather stoic in face though, the mother just nonchalantly patted the two-faced boy robotically.

Tubbo huffed as he saw the final stretch of slowly solidifying soil with rocky outcrop of the tile road beginning to show as he climbed the final slope to come to the roadside a bit further down then the family.

“Oh, there he is.” The mother called out observantly with her trilling valley girl accent. The father affirmed.

“Ah yes that is him.” The father waved down Tubbo who held his knees huffing. He looked back to the field marvelled at his marching pace, and Tubbo looked to see the three figures and climbed up to come to them pulling at the gloves fingertips to slip them off and into the pocket of his slacks.

“Toby, isn’t it?” The father spoke down to Tubbo who bowed his head and sat low compared to this mammoth family all above six feet.

“Yeah... Most people call me Tubbo though... Sir.” Tubbo affirmed as he fiddled his hands to lace at his waist looking away at his name, not very comfortable with it for a first greeting.

“Ah okay, Tubbo then.” The father respectfully corrected, cocking a brow a bit, his thoughts were obviously very diminishing of this general attitude, finding it very informal. He cleared his throat as he rested his face.

“Anyway, you must be wondering why we called you here.” The father spoke, clearing his throat again as he looked off seemingly embarrassed, the mother put a hand to his shoulder.

“Well… Our son is hopeless, you may have heard he doesn’t go out, and it’s true… He needs friends and well, Tommy is-'' The father wrinkled his forehead as he let out a hum of wondrous hubris.

“Difficult, Sir?” Tubbo didn’t hesitate to show his opinion or be more respectful as he did raise his brow in the same way, amazed to see such transparency by these seeming gods of people.

“Yes! Yes… Took the words out of my mouth.” He was enthused by someone’s consensus with his view, he muted himself again to a much less vibrant figure, and became much more stoic and reserved again, maybe they weren’t so different after all Tubbo was coming to realise, as he cocked his brow, a little gobsmacked.

“So, what exactly do you need me for Sir?” Tubbo rerouted back to concern, as he still wasn’t too sure why he was before these people.

“Well, as we said, not many friends… Not many people his age… Except you.” The father flicked his gaze to Tubbo more skewed and Tubbo hummed with affirmation.

“So, you want me to be your son’s…” Tubbo looked to Ranboo, who despite his height clung to his mother shyly, and Tubbo looked back to the father. “Friend?” He finished questioning lightly in tone, just wanting to confirm.

“Mmm…” The father vocalised a little, like he was second guessing, really, he was just stalling to acknowledge this acceptance. “Yes... I guess I am.” The father finished shrugging and Tubbo smiled warmly.

“Well of course, how exactly can I do this though?” Tubbo spoke articulate and firm, he was making sure to put his best foot forward.

“Ah! Well, dinner tonight, would you join us?!” The father spoke completely gushing with joy, and Ranboo just hid his frame as much as he could behind his mother despite towering over her, he slouched as a solution and shrunk out of view with his thin matchstick frame.

“Of course, should I get back to work sir?” Tubbo asked as he looked back to the field.

“Yes, yes. Thank you so much, farewell!” The father spoke completely jolly, he gave a chuckle as Tubbo walked back down the path to his row and began to toil his way back down it.

“Fantastic!” The father exclaimed pressing his car key, as he has it clasped in his hand, as they sat behind his back throughout the conversation, and began to walk towards the house with his wife Ranboo’s hand slipping out of his mother’s as he was frozen watching the straw blob slowly make its way out of view, over the tumult of grassy
peaks.

“Tubbo…” He spoke softly, and gravelled.

“Ranboo!” Yelled his father from the porch, and Ranboo turned snapping his position and rushed to him, hugging his side and they made their way in, Ranboo briefly looking back, having lost Tubbo to the picturesque vineyard’s expanses, the fly door creaked close and disappeared into the cabin’s expansive hallways.

Tubbo took another laborious walk back to his portmanteau of sweet violet raisins, and looked about Wilbur and Tommy were nowhere in sight, he just toiled away rather then, in a serene quiet.

It came almost to lunch when Tubbo heard more steps on the hay floor, and he looked across the lines of stakes hanging these bushels of grapes. He couldn’t seem to catch the origin of these steps, and began to make his way towards the house, where the men ate their lunch at a barn nearby.

“Tubbo!” A voice called, it was a voice Tubbo certainly rolled his eyes at, Tommy.

“What.” Tubbo spoke bluntly, as Tommy came next to Tubbo across the fence of green.

“Want to hear a joke?” Tommy bubbled with Tubbo, who just softly affirmed, disinterested clearly, but Tommy didn’t read the room, nor care.

“What do you call a man covered in spots?” Asked Tommy.

“What.” Tubbo spoke in monotone single words, in fact the same words, making himself automated and synthetic.

“Mark!” Tommy blasted and gave a wheeze as he stepped a smack to his knee and then rushed a bit to catch with the speeding Tubbo.

“Good right?!” Tommy bumbled, and Tubbo softly affirmed again, Tommy frowned a bit.

“Why are you such a serious Sally?” Tommy spoke very dispiritedly.

“This is a job, not a circus, no matter how much more entertaining that would be.” Tubbo was struck with reality, and stern in dousing others in this motor oil of management and adulthood.

“Don’t you hate it?” Tommy asked, cracking his voice at the end of his phrase, heartily, he hoped the boy hadn’t been swallowed by this bubbling black abyss.

“Doesn’t matter what I think, I can complain about the wages, or that this has nothing to do with my university course, but what difference is it going to make? I will end up in a nine to five, barely scraping by, and never finding success in my wildest dreams, since life is cruel.” Tubbo spoke splintered and dull, he stepped rhythmically, like a programmed machine, and his mind seemed to be wired with this very negative mindset.

“Man, you’re a bummer, can’t you be a bit more you know… Fun.” Tommy spoke judgingly.

“What like you?” Tubbo cracked like a firing, flinging bullwhip. His words are straightforward and seeded with venom.

“Yeah!” Tommy spoke enthused, taking all the subtext in the words, the absolute opposite way.

“Yeah, that’s why I am invited to dinner, and you aren’t.” Tubbo mumbled a sizzling roast of an insult and walked up the mound to the road and looked to the barn as he made his way Tommy came up behind him towering over this slouched figure.

“What did you say?” Tommy tried to snarl and intimidate, but Tubbo just continued aloof and without acknowledgement.

“I said, what did you say!” Tommy shoved Tubbo from behind and Tubbo scanned across his eyes to Tommy, about to swing his hand with the momentum and smack Tommy straight to the floor, with a clean right hook. Something caught him though, a freckled figure slouched at a stump, his freckled heart shaped head, with dual colours of pale white and tan, parted in the middle almost seamlessly. His left eye was a blinded white, and his right a strong dark hazel. He gazed over them with this good side, attempting to hide his astigmatism behind the lime branches.

“Stop.” Tubbo spoke softly to Tommy holding out his hand and Tommy softly hitched a word, as he looked where Tubbo gazed to see Ranboo too.

“Hey...” Tubbo spoke softly with a warm smile and Ranboo’s face jolted as he rushed, colliding with bushes back down and into the valley of the estate. Tubbo softly hummed, and Tommy just shook his head a little.

“Never mind…Just stay away from me, you’re too angsty for my taste.” Tommy gave himself the last laugh as he went out of the way to the barn, and left Tubbo who watched the flicking leaves in the distance as Ranboo parted the inclines to get away from this confrontation. Tubbo just chuckled warmly. Finding Ranboo an enigma.

Tubbo walked to the barn pushing his hands in his trouser pockets and Wilbur waved him as they sat at a wood bench, surrounded by hay and a small popup table with slices of pizza stored in cardboard branded boxes. Tubbo looked and smelt the hotness of the air and sighed relieved by this perfume of the air, as he sat across from Wilbur.

“So, we can talk now huh?” Wilbur asked rhetorically, as he was going to begin anyway, Tubbo chuckled and nodded as he stood and grabbed a slice of whatever generic flavour was closest, he wasn’t picky. He sat with Wilbur who seemed to be over analysing the geometrics of his slice. After Tubbo had subsided for a moment.

“You know this isn’t how you eat pizza?” Wilbur spoke softly as Tubbo took a bit out of the triangular end of this semicircular food.

“U-huh” Tubbo affirmed as he took another bite, and Wilbur grumbled at this simplicity.

“Thought you said we were going to talk?” Wilbur was brattish and very much a grudge holder in terms of it seems conversation promises.

“I’m eating” Tubbo said, putting the back of his hand to his mouth as he covered the sight of unchewed pizza. He swallowed and put down his slice, Wilbur smiling a bit, as they were having a going joust of jesting.

“You are a troublemaker.” Tubbo lambasted with a smile at the end, being obviously not mad, and the two chuckled a bit as they pointed their spices and had bites, eating in unison as to speak optimally. They finished with gulps and raised brows at each other marvelling at the tastiness of this meal, nonverbally. Tubbo chuckled a bit and Wilbur did too, they just enjoyed a bit of simple slapstick in that moment.

“You’re being stared daggers.” Wilbur spoke a bit mumbled as he picked up a bit of reed and put it to pick his teeth of remains. Tubbo turned slightly side-eyeing to see Tommy who tore into the meat of the meal and ripped it like a band aid with his teeth, being messy and unmannered as he spoke a bit with his mouth open to passers-by who commented.

“Yeah, I’m terrified.” Tubbo spoke sarcastically and Wilbur chuckled a bit but scowled slightly between the two’s prolonged eye contact.

“Tubbo.” Wilbur drew attention and Tubbo looked at him. “Why can’t you two get along, you’re both the same age, most of us are English on an internship for college degrees. Why can’t you two be chums.” Wilbur spoke dignified and at the end used a rather absurdist word that made Tubbo softly snort a bit.

“Yes of course chums, we shall be.” Tubbo mocked and Wilbur gave him a light shove, Tubbo chuckled as did Wilbur.

“What did they say?” Asked Wilbur as he took a bite and Tubbo looked off, then back to Wilbur.

“They want me to come to dinner.” Tubbo spoke softly and quietly, Wilbur's eyes widened, and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand respectfully.

“Really?” He mumbled, and Tubbo nodded as he took a bit of his own, Wilbur swallowing and clasping his hands at the edge of the table.

“That is awesome, you could get a promotion if you do good…. Why invite you though? You’re just some worker.” Wilbur spoke brutally, but Tubbo nodded along, understanding the confusion and agreeing in his position being much more minor.

“Yeah… I thought that too.” He swallowed before he began, the hot bread sizzling the back of his throat as his words came out greased and hoarse with this confrontation of purpose. “They want their son to have a friend, I don’t see how with so much money, they can’t buy him one, but I guess… They did confirm the bubble, and I am just part of it and lucky enough to be his age, be a good worker, and be quieter than Tommy.” Tubbo explained being a bit more comedic at the end then his serious tone throughout, Wilbur chuckled a bit to comfort the obvious anxiety Tubbo had.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Wilbur said, leaning over and patting his shoulder. Tubbo smiled and grabbed his slice up after Wilbur sat back and they began to eat again, but something caught the side of his eye again. He glanced and saw at the plank wall of the opening of the red barn. Ranboo again watched him intently, barely blinking a wink to him. Tubbo smiled at him again, much more confused though and forced, and Ranboo shook a bit before coming away slowly. Tubbo swallowed.

“And he goes again…” Tubbo spoke softly.

“What?” Asked Wilbur who was spacing out in the majesty of the puffy crust.

“Never mind...” Tubbo retorted as he finished off his slice, and most people did too in time for a bell to ring and a manager to call for ‘back to work!’

Tubbo walked aside Wilbur again, running his fingertips across each spine of the leaf, the small bristles that made it tingle on his finger’s top, swept away to an opposite orientation, or clung to skin in viridescent paste. He slipped on his gloves at this unhygienic action and cleared his throat as he stopped to pick up a random satchel, they all switched rows and now he had to continue where someone else left off, rather a poor performance by his counterpart, but that was the purpose of the shift, to put good workers on weak lines and catch a perfect curve of progress in each stroke of land. Tubbo began to scythe these fruits, from each lurching stalk, into their dooming pit of fallen comrades that he hauled from cane to cane, taking crops sliced and dropped. He managed to catch Wilbur who hummed a stringed escapade of sound, his riffing melodic and Tubbo smiled a bit as he let the air pop with his crackles of vine.

“Do you mind?” Wilbur gritted and Tubbo softly snickered.

“Yeah, I was wondering if you are a singer or a tax collector.” Tubbo joked as he looked Wilbur up and down and he groaned out, putting his hands to the wooden posts and shaking them disheartened, screaming out archaically and wounded.

“Jeez, drama queen.” Tubbo swept his nose at this noxious display and Wilbur turned a bit smiling.

“Good right?” He consulted, then spun and put out a waving finger. “Also, I am an opera performer, not a singer excuse you!” He buffeted with a puffed pair of cheeks huffing. Tubbo just laughed and Wilbur did too with a splatter of spittle at the exhale of this caught air.

“Why did you actually wear that stuff today?” Tubbo queried as he reeled his way down the rod of boundary.

“Well, I got an interview in the city, and I couldn’t not have my shift first, to say goodbye you know.” Wilbur spoke softly and sweetly, he steamed with nervousness, as he shakily whistled a breath, Tubbo snuck under the line and came to him, he stood looking up and smiled.

“Just this one time.” Tubbo spoke sternly, and Wilbur sparkled.

“Really?” He spoke and Tubbo looked off nodding and held out his arms, and Wilbur hoisted the boy in an embrace.

“Ah Tubbo, I’ll miss you so!” Wilbur dramatised. “What is it that I feel, is doth heart beating as fast, as mine is it true you love me too? Shall we walk off in the bosom of the sun and embrace its symmetry with our outstretched fingers? Becoming one but the light of a star, and a flare of lightning flickers, reaching the farthest constellation of our world, and there we shall dance for a million years, written in the alignment of space and only reaching earth when it doth set its last evening upon. Oh-” Wilbur spoke a tale of greatest majesty, of Shakespearean quality. He just continued, Tubbo rolling his eyes at this spectacle, he ended up putting a finger to Wilbur’s lip and glared seriously.

“Don’t push it.” He spoke and Wilbur let him down obligingly.

“Sorry, can’t help it, it’s fun.” Wilbur replied rubbing the back of his neck, this friendly display turned awkward unintentionally thanks to this unthought play.

“Yeah, well it has been fun, and I know that your heart is in the right place… Working with a band.” Tubbo started carefully, he widened his eyes at his choice of words, and tried to be as careful as possible as he finished over emoting each letter to come across right.

“Thank you… and to you, in all seriousness, you would be in the right place too, beside me. I understand you want a degree like I have almost, but you don’t need it. I think you are meant to be a star truly, as much as my metaphor was overzealous and probably a bit overly romanticised. You can be something big. So go for it, when the chance to be something bigger, snatch it.” Wilbur spoke articulately, he was well-spoken and well thought, he had the greatest of intentions and they came with each piece of advice, and Tubbo smiled and hugged Wilbur one more time and they embraced quietly.

Tubbo heard a rustle and let go and jumped at a pair of shoes snuck at a lumber cacophony, and the person yelped as they were tripped to the floor by this. Wilbur dodged this tackle as it came from behind him, Ranboo fell putting his elbows at the top of his head and locking around it to cushion himself as he fell with a puff of dust.

“What the hell do you want!” Tubbo scrambled as he let go and leant over the fallen figurine, and the boy’s eye quivered and Tubbo stood up straight realising the error in his ways.

“Wait-” He tried to apologise but Ranboo ran off his arms dusted with grazes.

“Shit…” Tubbo swore quietly, and Wilbur put a hand to his shoulder.

“Damn, that would have been a nice dinner.” He commented and Tubbo shoved him, but they laughed it off, and Tubbo shuffled back over his side, and worked away rather reservedly, as he regretted his abrasiveness deeply, maybe him and Tommy weren’t so different. Wilbur left by the time afternoon break had come and Tubbo sat alone, he saw Tommy stare at him as he had lunch and sighed.

“Why can’t we get along, hey?” He spoke to himself with Wilbur’s earlier words, and stood slowly, he straightened himself and walked over.

“Hey Tommy, mind if I sit?” Tubbo spoke warmly and Tommy shrugged as he looked off, distancing and pacifying himself from the instant squabbling that he expected.

“Wilbur, you know… He said you go to a close Uni to me, is that true?” Tubbo asked sincerely, he was here to make amends, no matter how much behind his smile he gritted and taut his tongue bitterly.

“Yeah… Wilbur…. He is right in that.” Tommy spoke softly, and sombrely, He seemed to be really affected, Tubbo raised a brow, as he saw Tommy watching the road that splayed into the sunset.

“homesick?” Asked Tubbo, Tommy shook his head. Tubbo tilted his head aside as he tried to crack this case of solemn gloom.

“Wilbur?” Tubbo insighted and Tommy sighed.

“Yeah…” Tommy and Tubbo had a common ground it seemed.

“Me too.” Tubbo confessed and Tommy for the first time looked at him with a soft and attentive gaze.

“He is really the closest friend I got, been with this whole time. Sort of followed me to make sure I’m settled. Before caring about his own wants and needs.” Tubbo said with a melancholic expression, how much of a good friend he realised he had.

“Yeah, He always told me to be my best self, and not let anyone tell me otherwise.” Tommy spoke in the same very endeared facet and Tubbo for that gave him an affirming grin.

“Yeah, he would understand since you are very alike, I just didn’t give you a chance to be you, I’m sorry.” Tubbo apologised and made adaptations for his own flaws as a person and Tubbo cocked a curious and surprised brow.

“Yeah well, I should apologise too for being, basically a mean girl, because you know, I know all about girls.” Tommy spoke at the end blissful with himself, Tubbo chuckled a bit at his dry humour and the two had this moment. Tubbo looked off for a moment. Ranboo wasn’t there this time. Tubbo sighed.

“Something wrong?” Asked Tommy.

“No, I just got to wait I guess.” Tubbo spoke and Tommy nodded along at this cryptic response.

“I wait for my many girls to finally respond all the time, they never do.” Tommy tried to swell the mood with another punchline and Tubbo smiled and looked at him.

“Yeah I wonder why.” Tubbo bantered in return and Tommy shoved him lightly, and they laughed together as the bell rang and they went into the fields again for the evening final run.

After Tubbo had steamrolled his way through a whole row, he came up to the barn, having met the quota he huffed as he wiped his shirt at his dripping nose. He was tired after a day’s work, in his stinky work clothes he sighed and sat watching the lights of the house, and the movement of shadows. It seemed he wasn’t going to get dinner with them. His expectation was subverted though as the father peaked out the door and looked about with a flashlight in hand for the dusk light.

“Where is Toby- Tubbo, that boy.” The man asked gritted, Tubbo quickly stood and came towards the door rubbing his neck with a towel.

“Sir, sorry, I am not in a state to dine, I’m very dirty.” Tubbo spoke politely and the father hummed.

“It’s alright, we understand, come in.” He spoke and stood back from the door, Tubbo raised his brow and just folded the towel and put it to the frame of the porch and came inside, which he had never done before. The two-story cabin house was much more glamorous than its exterior; the walls seemed to shimmer with glistening light refraction, painting of battles and stern faces of long dead relatives sat about. Busts of Romans and the wife cooked away with several attendants in a marbled kitchen. Tubbo walked about looking up the mahogany staircase where one room light buzzed on. He walked down halls seeing the understairs which led to servant quarters. There were wreaths on the insides of doors and a festive atmosphere despite it being long past Christmas, it just glowed like a gift from heaven itself. Tubbo was in awe of this before being ushered by a waiter to the dining room and sat at the table that was set with all manner of utensils. It was a connecting room. The lounge was also there, which felt out of place in this antique place, almost like a museum. The small bits of technology stuck out unappealing but also showed the modern delicacies of life, to their highest bidder. Being flat screen and wide in size, all manner of speakers and consoles connected to it enthral you into a theatre experience at the comfort of your own couch.

“Good, isn’t it?” The father spoke as his chair was pulled and he sat, a handkerchief put in his collar and the waiter moved over to Tubbo who felt very out of place.

“No thanks.” He declined special treatment as he looked about again, to measure his response. “Yes sir, magnificent.” Tubbo didn’t stumble despite his current gobsmacked nature, and the wife came and sat.

“Call down that boy, he is being rude.” The mother hissed, and Tubbo just looked between them like they were dreams not truths.

“Ranboo!” Yelled the father and a quiet thump came.

“Coming!” Was returned and then soft thumps as Ranboo came down the stairs and into the corridor and looked to see Tubbo. He wore a turtleneck with long sleeves that was green, he wore cargo shorts and polarising glasses, which Tubbo didn’t blame as he squinted from the glare of this room. His hair was as poofy as before and Tubbo just watched him as Ranboo now received the same treatment of staring as he had done to Tubbo and looked back which sent Tubbo’s eyes away much like Tubbo had done to Ranboo. Quid pro quo they bounced between each other as Ranboo came and sat.

“This is Toby, your new friend.” The father spoke, I winced at my name being called as I looked forward and turned my head to face the tall boy beside me, who seemed so small by his reserved nature. I smiled forcefully.

“He is called Tubbo, Dad.” Ranboo replied puncturing in his pronunciation, as he admonished his father’s disrespect and Tubbo blinked that Ranboo had remembered, being much more content in his role thanks to this seeming mutual respect.

“Right sorry, anyway let’s begin.” The father called out nonchalantly and rather improperly and clapped and the waiters came to dish the plates, they did so in a rehearsed fashion, but it was still artful and entertaining especially to Tubbo who was clearly being impressed by these paragons of affluence. The parents picked up their spoons, as in front of all of them sat an entrée of soup, with bread rolls placed in the centre of the four seated facing table. Tubbo was across from the father and next to Ranboo the mother diagonal from him. They began to petitely sip from the small spoon morsels very dignified, Tubbo followed suit quietly cooling the hot liquid before having it to his lips.

“Wow.” He expressed as he took another spoonful quickly to his mouth, the family just having slurped their first serving.

“Delicious.” Tubbo explained unbridled satisfaction and the mother bowed her head.

“I’m glad you like it.” She spoke soft and sincerely, and the father also nodded.

“My wife is such a decadent cook, wait till you taste the rest, this is only the beginning, literally.” He chuckled and the wife softly giggled in her lips to stay as poised as possible and Ranboo just sat rather silent eating away, and Tubbo looked to him and wondered what was wrong but couldn’t seem to bring himself to start up some conversation. Tubbo dipping a cut slice into the soup and eating it silently.

The second course began in this same formation, this time sat a main, a steak with peas and gravy, mashed potato and a side of crackers with what were small pearl like toppings.

“What is this?” Asked Tubbo, as he held up a cracker towered with these small spheres.

“It’s Caviar” The father spoke and Tubbo’s eyes sparkled at this casual utterance, he softly hummed excitedly and slipped it into his mouth, he made a pleased affirmation.

“Wow! So sweet!” He commented on the taste.

“They come local.” The father spoke and Tubbo nodded as he had another.

“Try the meat, it's divine.” The mother commented, and Tubbo bowed his head.

“Oh sorry.” He spoke apologetically and Ranboo opened his mouth for a second then just grumbled as he ate.

“Something wrong son?” His mother asked, Tubbo serving himself but stopped dishing as he listened in, turning a bit to see Ranboo for reply, having not heard him talk since the beginning of the meal.

“No.” Ranboo spoke briefly, and the mother and father looked at each other rather dismayed by his clear flippancy. The wife mouthed sorry to Tubbo who just cleared his throat a bit at this pandering and overparenting and ate a bit of the food to try and switch the subject. The food was sour with topping and his face scrunched a little, but he just tried to flow that into his chew and pretended to enjoy smiling after he swallowed reluctantly.

“Good?” asked the wife, wondering.

“Yeah” He lied as he smiled begrudgingly, the bitterness of this whole debacle sitting on his tongue for much too long. Tubbo was unable to finish and pushed it aside.

“Can I get a drink?” He asked and the father raised his hand as the platters were collected, and the waiters seemed to rotate through bringing small bowls and spoons and placing it before the family, and it was a slimy white liquid drowned in crimson.

“Here is something you can drink, the original recipe, gelato.” The father spoke and Tubbo lightly recoiled and Ranboo looked at him.

“Hey...” Ranboo spoke softly, as the two parents zoned in, eating their meal pompously. Tubbo turned to him, surprised to hear a whisper from him.

“Yeah?” Tubbo replied softly and gulped down a bit of sickly feelings, to come to a much more acceptable personality.

“You don’t have to act like that for me… Also, the gelato… It’s the best thing here, better than the sides even. Since you know, the servants make it now.” Ranboo spoke a complex array of sentencing for the first time, and it turned out he was pretty much a normal person, but this was such a twist to Tubbo he couldn’t help but agape his lip a bit at this, but then closed it as Ranboo looked at him coldly and Tubbo smiled apologetically and cringing at his mistake.

“My bad, but yeah thanks for saying.” Tubbo spoke and leaned forward and he gripped the spoon and scooped a smooth wet cut to his mouth and engulfed it, he held it there for a second then pulled out the spoon and the aroma was intoxicating, the feel was melty and gooey, it seemed to presence just long enough to hit every inch of his taste buds with the mint freshness of toothpaste, but the taste of a perfect vanilla ice cream, and a succulent aged wine. He sighed enamoured with this meal. Ranboo leant and saw the very delighted face of Tubbo.

“Was I correct?” He spoke egotistically, as he poked out his tongue in a quipping fashion, Tubbo smiled at this feigned attempt, this monolith of a boy was much more immature than Tubbo as he chuckled, his father glared such though and Ranboo recoiled a bit hiding back in his shell of delicacy. Tubbo picked up his spoon and cracked into the gelato taking another bite of courage and sighed again.

“It’s perfect” He spoke offhandedly and Ranboo smiled as he fixed a hair behind his dotted ear.

“Why did you ask for me?” Tubbo asked the family, and they looked to Ranboo who twiddled his thumbs,

“Later.” Ranboo spoke embarrassed, and the parents sighed frustrated with his manner and just ate, Ranboo tapped Tubbo as he was flushed with discomfort.

“You’re pretty.” He spoke quickly and rambled, and looked off and Tubbo just blinked, unsure exactly what this was, a confession? He just cocked a brow and chuckled, putting his hand to Ranboo.

“Thanks.” He spoke ardently, and Ranboo looked to him, his gaze shaky and he was slouched lower than the much shorter boy as he slinked in his chair.

“You’re pretty too, as Cromwell said, ‘warts and all’ Ha-ha.” Tubbo spoke gingerly as he took another spoonful of gelato and Ranboo dazzled and shined as a smile grew on his face from ear to ear, and his cheeks lit with more colour than ever, almost becoming the same shade for once.

“Thank you.” Ranboo spoke, puckering his lip as he kissed the air with a tender touch to his words, turned completely to a momentary happiness of full and undarkened heart, beating fast and time moving slowly as Ranboo just watched Tubbo clear his throat.

“This is all very sweet, as comes with Gelato” He joshed and the family gave an affirming pleased hum at him, and Tubbo clasped his hands at the edge of the table and tutted his lips.

“Maybe.. Ranboo could come down the field with me tomorrow, you know a little friend time, get him out the house and out of your hair.” Tubbo explained fluently and the guardians looked to each other and Ranboo who lit up at this suggestion looking to Tubbo inspired. The two uhm’ed and ah’ed, Ranboo resigning quickly at their delay, that it wouldn’t happen. Tubbo watched this sinking of Ranboo’s face, watched him drown, but reached out a hand and touched Ranboo’s pulling him back to the surface and he smiled starrily to him, then to the parents.

“Please, I would be deeply flattered.” Tubbo spoke superbly, and appealingly and the two blinked.

“Well... It’s in the bubble… We… What… Mm… I guess it’s fine.” The father pitched and blundered over his words as the mother gave telling eyebrows at each of his tonal discrepancies, till he finally said the right thing and she eased patting his shoulder.

“Yes, it would be perfect, as long as you have some leftovers, we don’t want our boy tired.” The matriarch spoke as a godsend and Ranboo again radiated, he glowed making the lights flutter as he drained them, and became bigger, taller, straightened he stood and rushed around the table to embrace the two.

“Thank you, Thank you, you, you, you! Thank you!” Ranboo cuddled the two the father a bit awkwardly tapped his back, and the mother warmly accepted such, but Ranboo pulled back and rushed about in place.

“Do I have to pack or something?” Ranboo showed his clear naïve youth, maybe Tubbo had signed up for quite a task, Tubbo gave a wide gaze at this amusing and adorable display.

“No you’re just going out the door,” Ranboo rushed for it “in the morning not now!” The father popped at this energetic pounce and gave a slow breath.

“Go sit back down.” The father spoke gritted teeth and Tubbo glared, but nodded to Ranboo who came and sat down, tapping his foot restlessly below the table.

“Now, Tubbo.” The father finally used Tubbo’s name the first time, it seemed Tubbo had earned his respect. Which Tubbo was chuffed with.

“You better get some rest, you’ll need it.” The father finished and Tubbo nodded.

“I agree, thank you for the lovely meal.” He affirmed and stood patting himself down and came shaking the two’s hands.

“Sir, Madam.” He acknowledged.

“Please Tubbo, call us Mr and Ms. Boo.” The mother decided to equalise their relationship, the father stared her for that but she just looked to Tubbo who softly hummed.

“Okay, well. Goodnight, Mr and Ms. Boo.” He reaffirmed and she bowed her head as Tubbo walked to the door and looked at her husband.

“Well if he is going to be our son’s friend, he can’t act like we’re superior all the time.” She staunchly dictated to him and the father rolled his eyes a bit when he looked away. Ranboo continued to bounce restless, and eat filled with joy by this meal even more, now every night he wanted to eat gelato.

Tubbo made his way to the shed where Tommy stood holding a lantern.

“How was it?” He asked apprehensively.

“It was nice.” Tubbo spoke quietly animated with energy, and came in to make his way to sleep, to his appointment the next morning.

Tubbo awoke slowly, in his itchy blanket, he shoved it off carefree, and went to the communal bathroom carrying a bag of clothes, and changed swiftly into a fresh polo of grey, and tight denim jeans. He swept his bedhead of curls and came to the door. Ranboo stood. Ranboo held a fist to his chin as he stood in the doorway. He wore his usual glasses and was dressed beautifully in a black button up and burgundy suit pants, a tie to match and black formal shoes.

“That is going to get ruined.” Tubbo spoke deeply with the morning grog, and Ranboo jolted and smiled as he walked down and hugged him but recoiled.

“Wait, is that okay?” Ranboo asked respectfully and Tubbo smiled.

“Of course.” Tubbo spoke sweetly, he didn’t let many people hug him, and thanks to Wilbur’s words he was learning about the bigger things that mattered, like love and friends. Ranboo seemed to grab from the kitchen window two bowls and held one out to Tubbo.

“What’s this?” Tubbo asked as he cupped it and Ranboo took a spoonful of his.

“Gelato!” He spoke spattered with white remnants, he had forgotten he had eaten, the two laughed a bit as Ranboo wiped himself.

“I dripped on my shirt.” He spoke dejectedly and Tubbo chuckled as he licked his thumb and wiped it.

“You are such a baby.” Tubbo coddled and Ranboo pouted.

“Well I am a brat” He spoke astutely and Tubbo laughed heartily, he almost dropped the bowl clumsily but caught himself Ranboo stabilising him.

“You alright?” Ranboo asked again, concerned with Tubbo’s every step.

“Yeah, I’ll live.” He spoke seriously but seeded with dryness, and Ranboo hummed stifling another fit of laughter. Tubbo finally had a spoonful and again felt his whole mouth sing with the smooth taste of this meal. Ranboo watched focused on how Tubbo was so simple and enjoyed the little things.

“Man, this really is the best thing ever.” Tubbo spoke after it glided down his throat.

“Yeah, it’s gelato.” Ranboo spoke bluntly obvious.

“Well, I don’t get to have it every day like you prince.” Tubbo spoke a bit dramatically emulating Wilbur for a second in his characterisation which gave him a spark of thought.

“Prince?” Ranboo questioned and looked at himself.

“Why yes.” Tubbo trilled in an imitation of royalty. “My prince you are as the flowers bloom, doth as marvellous as the sunrise, and when the sun doth set, the world shall miss your morning lights.” Tubbo stole Wilbur’s eloquence into his own style as he dipped Ranboo who yelped and tried to keep stable the bowl. Tubbo embraced him.

“you’re squishing me!” Ranboo squeezed out and Tubbo pulled back.

“Oh sorry.” He spoke and Ranboo held himself a bit weakly, he was much too thin, but that was okay he realised as he let go, pain was a part of life too. He gained courage, and Tubbo came close holding his shoulder as Ranboo watched the grass flow on the floor.

“Hey you okay?” Tubbo questioned concerned.

“Gelato!” Ranboo yelled, throwing his bowl over Tubbo splashing him wet, Tubbo shivered as he jumped back, Ranboo snorted, Tubbo shoved away his bowl and Ranboo began to rush off.

“Hey get back here!” Tubbo shouted as he chuckled and they ran through the grapevines, laughing into the expanse of the world, friends made by the simplest of desserts.

What was it called again?

Gelato!