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It’s Wilbur and Techno’s birthdays today and Tommy still doesn’t have a present for them.
For previous years, Tommy would do some performance with his shapeshifting or would turn into a giant anteater and scare the shit out of Wil, but Tommy thinks it’s gotten old. He’s fourteen years old—old enough to go to Tubbo’s all by himself and old enough to get the twins a special birthday present.
So today, Tommy’s going to head into town and buy them a good gift, one his brothers would enjoy for their twentieths. He’s been saving money up for months now, hopefully having enough to buy both Techno and Wilbur a gift each.
Anyways, he needs to get to town quickly due to the birthday dinner happening in about 5 hours and Tommy doesn’t want to be late. Again. He shifts into a crow, flying to Tubbo’s house and tapping his beak on his friend’s window.
Tubbo should be awake but who knows, it is in fact Tubbo. Tommy hops around, jumping foot to foot impatiently. Suddenly, a face appears in the window and Tommy does the equivalent of a human scream in bird form.
It’s literally fucking Ranboo. Bastard must’ve stayed over at Tubbo’s house. Tommy glares at Ranboo’s face through the glass, and he squawks. Will the enderman hybrid open the window already or is Tommy going to have to break it open like he did two years ago?
Luckily for him—and Schlatt’s window—Ranboo opens the door, their fingers deftly unlatching it.
“Get inside Tommy,” Ranboo says, their voice sounding like they were just woken up.
Tommy prances inside, shifting back into his pre-teen self as soon as he gets on the carpet. “Ranboob why’re you sounding like you just fuckin’ woke up?”
Ranboo sighs, “Tubbo didn’t let me sleep like—at all—last night so you’re correct. We went to bed like, oh I don’t know, an hour ago.” They look pointedly at the sleeping Tubbo, and they sigh when Tubbo doesn’t even move.
Tommy pulls back the covers to find Tubbo snoring facing down on the bed, chest rising and ears flapping occasionally. Not for long fucker.
Tommy shifts into a coyote and jumps onto the bed, jostling Tubbo but not waking him up. He lies next to his friend’s head, positioning his throat next to one of his years. He starts growling, putting as much threat threat threat and danger danger danger into his rumble.
“Shitting–fuck what! Ranboo fuckin-shit fuck!” Tubbo yells, shooting up with his hair frazzled and ears alert. Tommy watches as his friend comes down from the high of being threatened by a predator, his head swiveling around for the culprit.
Tommy knows the exact moment Tubbo realizes what happened because a hand hits the back of his head and he yowls at the short burst of pain. He shifts back into a human a split second after Tubbo had hit him, glaring at his friend.
“Owww, Tub what the fuck?!” He yells, rubbing his head.
“Don’ fuckin’ wake me up,” Tubbo half-slurs, voice blurred from sleep. Tommy reaches over and pulls on one of Tubbo’s ears—lightly—and bolts. The last time he messed with Tubbo’s ears or horns, he had a bruise the size of Ranboo’s head on his arm.
“Tommy we need to get your presents,” Ranboo recalls, grabbing random clothes for Tubbo off the floor. At least they understand Tommy’s urgency; he’s not sure where him and Tubbo would be without Ranboo.
Sadly, Tubbo still hasn’t moved. So Tommy sneaks over to the bed and grabs one of Tubbo’s arms and forcefully pulls him off the bed, the sheets coming with him.
“Wha’ the fuck?” Tubbo says, a bit more clear this time. “Why’d you have to pull me off bitch?”
“‘Cause we gotta fuckin’ go!” Tommy says cheerfully, grabbing some of the clothes Ranboo had previously picked out and throwing them on Tubbo’s face. “So get dressed!”
Tubbo groans as he sits up, clothes sliding off his face. Ranboo snorts from where they are lacing up their sneakers, fingers expertly tying them.
Tommy shifts into a cat, climbing on the windowsill and gesturing with his paw to climb outside. Ranboo follows immediately, not even hesitating. The two climb on the roof, watching cars go by. The only sounds are Tommy licking his paws and the wind rustling the leaves.
“Do you think he’ll be ready in five minutes?” Ranboo says, breaking the comfortable silence.
Tommy, still in cat form, does the cat version of a scoff and lays his head down on his paws, staring up at Ranboo in disbelief.
“Didn’t think so,” They chuckle, eyes following a particularly fast car. “I’m gonna time it.” Ranboo pulls out their phone and starts the stopwatch.
The minutes tick by. Tommy car watches and time watches, not at all surprised when the seconds slowly rise to 5 minutes.
“Hey fuckers!” Tubbo’s head pops out the window and Tommy jumps, shrieking, four limbs shooting out and claws ready to pierce anything.
“Tubbo!” Ranboo yells shrilly, their ears flaring at the jumpscare, “Dude don’t scare us next time.”
“Maybe,” Tubbo considers, “Probably not.”
Ranboo’s ears lower in defeat, “Probably not.”
Tommy yowls, trying to get the attention back onto him and his dire need to leave. He bites at Tubbo’s fingers that are holding onto the windowsill and pull, eliciting a curse from Tubbo’s mouth.
“I’m coming, Tommy, fuck– fucking stop it.” Tommy decides to stop and prances in circles around Ranboo impatiently.
Ranboo laughs at him, running their fingers through his fur. Tommy starts purring. The pets feeling fucking good, and if Tommy didn’t have a mission, then he would be inclined to spend all day here.
Reminded of his goal, Tommy shifts suddenly. “Guys we have to fuckin’ get going.”
“Well then let's go, dude.” Ranboo says, “You’re the one lazy-ing on the roof.”
“I am not lazy,” Tommy huffs, crossing his arms. Ranboo levels a look that is as clear as a sunny day at him. He shifts into a crow, flying down to the ground. He watches his friends go back inside to go down the stairs, and while they’re doing that, he shifts into a moose.
If he were older, he would shift into a horse or something people actually ride on. But since Tommy is an adolescent as a human, he is therefore an adolescent as any animal he shifts into. So while a young adult horse can’t carry both of his friends, a young adult moose can.
He waits very patiently for his friends to finally come outside, Ranboo practically pulling Tubbo along. Tommy snorts, throwing his head back.
“We have enough time, Toms, calm down,” Ranboo says, climbing onto Tommy’s back. Once Ranboo is on, Tommy has to kneel a bit closer to the ground to let Tubbo on due to Tubbo’s short stature. Oh, and his pride—Tubbo won’t let Ranboo pick them up to put him on Tommy’s back.
The moment Tubbo’s hand grips the back of Tommy’s neck, he takes off for the town. The wind rushing past his ears and through his fur. Shouts of joy come from behind him, and if he were human, Tommy would be screaming as well. This the fucking life, innit?
Tommy jumps over logs and splashes through streams, weaving in and out of trees as a seamstress does with a needle and fabric. It doesn’t take long for him to gallop into town, slowing down as the streets turn from worn dirt to gravel and rock.
He lowers to the ground and waits for his friends to climb off of his back. After that he shifts into his human self, quickly brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulders.
“Eight out of ten,” Tubbo rates, combing a hand through his hair.
“Nine out of ten,” Ranboo also rates, “I think you went fast this time.”
“Agreed Ranboob,” Tommy says, “That’s one of my–” He leans over, catching his breath, “–my best rides yet, aye?”
Tubbo and Ranboo nod in agreement before turning and walking towards the downtown. Tommy has to jog for a split second to catch up, “accidentally” hitting Tubbo’s shoulder.
“Owww, you fucker,” Tubbo scowls, pushing Tommy away. Tommy laughs at him, Ranboo joining in.
“D’ya have anything in mind for Wil and Techno yet?” Ranboo asks, diverting Tubbo and Tommy’s attention from murdering each other.
“Nah, I was just gonna wing it.”
Tubbo stares at him, “When has that ever worked bossman.”
“Tubs. Tubs. Have– have some faith in me, man.”
The three walk onto main street, vendors lining the curb and people bustling about. People yell over one another for business, adding into the noisy chaos. Tommy loves this environment, loves the way people flow in and out, similar to fish in a stream.
Tommy pulls on his friends’ hands, weaving them through the throngs of people. He skirts around a lizard hybrid that had somehow tripped in front of them, and he yanks Ranboo’s hand back to save them from getting crushed under a tower of tipping boxes.
Nevertheless, they make it to the other side, stopping in front of a wooden ware vendor. The owner has beads in their braided hair, freckles lining their nose. The beads look to be handmade, probably their own craftsmanship.
“What can I do for ya, boys?” They call out, white teeth glinting. Even though the person doesn’t have any prominent hybrid features, they must have something running in their veins for the unnaturally sharp teeth.
Tommy sniffs, “Just looking.” He really likes the look of the carved bowls and plates; maybe Wilbur and Techno would too.
Ranboo picks up one of the wooden sharks, “Did you make these all yourself?”
“Yep!” The owner smiles proudly. “The more ‘creative’ artworks over here,” They gesture at a side table filled with items that looked like children carved them, “My kids made. They aren’t as expensive as the others.”
Tubbo hums, “How much for the wind chime?” He points at a flower themed chime that’s softly hitting itself in the light breeze. Tommy thinks it’s lovely but not for his brothers.
“Fifteen silver.”
Fifteen silver? Tommy thinks. That’s a fuckin’ steal.
Tubbo’s eyes widen, “Done.” Tommy watches as the vendor expertly unhooks the chime and wraps it in newspaper, sliding it across the table as Tubbo exchanges the coins. Maybe Tommy should’ve bought something after all.
“Anything else?” The vendor asks, a small smile on their face.
Tommy and Ranboo shake their heads. Tubbo is too busy marveling over his impossibly cheap wind chime.
“No, but we may come back,” Ranboo says.
The vendor nods once, “Thanks and have a great day!”
“You didn’t find anything for your brothers?” Ranboo asks as the three are walking away. “You could've gotten them any of the wooden animals and said ‘Aye! They’re me ‘cause I’m me and I’m animals!’” Ranboo imitates Tommy’s voice perfectly.
Tommy is too stunned to be offended, “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Tommy there’s a gold vendor over there,” Tubbo pulls his attention away from Ranboo and points at a barely visible table. Tommy’s human eyes can’t see it from this far away so he shifts into a bird, flying up into the air and circling around main street.
Sure enough, gold glints on the edge of the market, and if Tommy’s instincts are drawn in by it, then what would happen to his brothers when they see the shimmering metal? It seems as though Tommy's already decided on his presents, actually, considering he hasn’t even seen the wares.
He lands a few feet away from the stand, expertly shifting just before his feet hit the ground.
“How the fuck did you guys beat me here?” Tommy exclaims. Somehow, his friends beat him to the vendor when he’s the one with the fucking supernatural shapeshifitng powers.
“I’m an enderman hybrid dude,” Ranboo deadpans, “I can literally teleport.”
Tommy blushes. Sometimes he isn’t the smartest person ever, contrary to his persistent demands that he is.
“Well– well.” Tommy says, gesturing with his hands pointlessly. Flustered, he turns to the gold stand. A quick scan reveals gold plated armor leaning against the posts, shiny gold crowns on pedestals, and jewelry hanging from little stands. Just by glancing at it Tommy knows he’s going to get the perfect gift for his brothers
He walks up to the stand, immediately picking up a set of gold crowns. The two aren’t matching; they compliment each other instead. The first one—obviously for Wilbur—is intricate with gold weaving in and around each other. There’s four blue gems, evenly spread out. The second one—for Techno— is less complicated but still with the initial base design. Instead of four blue gems, there are four red gems, spread similarly to Wilbur’s.
Tommy has to get them.
“How much for the crowns?” He slides a hand in his pocket, preparing for the probably absurdly high price.
The vendor leans both elbows on the stand, “Fi’ty gold pieces.” The vendor sniffs, “Each.”
Tommy feels a nudge from Tubbo, and he bends down for his friend to whisper in his ear.
“You should get them.”
Ranboo, with their endermen-like hearing, nods in agreement.
Tommy pulls out his little pouch, counting out 100 gold coins. He had been saving for months just because he knew the gifts would probably be really expensive. Whatever. The look on his brothers’ face will be worth it.
“Pleasure doin’ business with ya.” The vendor slides the coins off the table and into their waiting palms, nodding at the crowns, “Have a nice day, misters.”
The three of them turn away from the stand, admiring the crowns.
“Those are really pretty,” Ranboo says, turning Techno’s crown over in their hands, “You’re brothers’ are gonna flip when they see this.”
“Good, good,” Tommy says smugly, “That means they’ll have to get me a super, super poggers and masculine and epic gift for my birthday.”
“Isn’t the birthday party tonight?” Tubbo asks, grabbing the crown from Ranboo’s hands.
“No, that's tomorrow,” Tommy answers, “Tonight’s the family dinner.”
“We should probably get back then so you can wrap them bossman.”
Tommy agrees, handing Wilbur’s crown to Tubbo so he can put them in his bag. He shifts into an elephant this time. It’s been a while since he shifted into the large animal, and he enjoys being it.
He uses his trunk to help his friends climb on his back, waiting for them to get situated so they don’t fall off. He’s learnt his lesson about being careless when shifting last time.
He meanders back, taking his time. There’s no point in rushing when he has about an hour and a half til the dinner and that’s plenty of time to drop his friends off too.
Seemingly reading his mind, Tubbo leans down next to one of his massive ears, “Just drop Ran off with me.” Tommy lifts his trunk in acknowledgement.
Tommy tunes out Ranboo’s and Tubbo’s conversation, enjoying his walk. It doesn’t take long to reach Tubbo’s house, shifting before his friends can jump off his back. His friends fall, twin screams drowning out Tommy’s laughter.
“Tommy, dude, we told you to stop doing that” Ranboo groans, picking themself off the ground and helping Tubbo up.
Tommy wipes a fake tear from his eye, “But, but, but, hear me out. Hear me out. Have you considered–have you considered that it’s funny? Hilarious, hmm?”
“Fuck you man,” Tubbo glares at him, handing the crowns over, “Have fun at your dinner, asshole.”
“Thanks!” Tommy says, cheerfully. He will, despite Tubbo cursing him out.
He sets the crowns on the ground and shifts into a hawk, picking the crowns up in his talons. Tommy squawks a goodbye, flying off towards his home. Luckily for him, past-Tommy was super smart and left his bedroom window open.
He releases the crowns over his bed, shifting back into a person and heading over to his closet. Past-Tommy was also super smart all the way back to his previous birthday and saved the wrapping paper. Now he can sneakily wrap the gifts without his brothers, or his father, knowing.
Setting one crown on top of the pink colored paper, he bites his lip. Turns out, Tommy doesn’t know how to wrap presents. It can’t be too hard can it?
It’s actually very hard, Tommy finds out, when the wrapping paper is haphazardly taped around the crown. Well, it doesn’t look like it’s a crown. More like a big ball of wrapping paper.
Oh well!
He moves onto Techno’s crown, grabbing the blue wrapping paper. This time he’ll do better.
He does not do better.
Actually, Techno’s crown looks worse than Wilbur’s. Good. Then Techno will know how ugly Tommy thinks he is.
That’s too bad for them then. They’ll have to suffer with the totally awesome gift Tommy got them.
He’s just finishing cleaning up when he hears Phil call him downstairs, presumably for dinner.
“Coming!”
Grabbing the presents, he opens his door and tries not to drop them. Logically, they’re two crowns, they shouldn’t be hard to carry. Tommy-ically, everything is harder than it should be.
Phil raises his eyebrows as he struggles down the steps, fumbling the presents. “You got them presents, mate?”
“Well, yeah, looks like it,” Tommy says.
“Need any help?”
“Hell no. I’m a big man, bitch.”
Phil turns around and places two dishes on the table, one with roast beef and the other mashed potatoes. “Set those down and get your brothers; dinner’s ready.”
“‘Kay.” Tommy does as he is told and heads to Wilbur’s and Techno’s rooms respectively. Wilbur takes a minimum amount of coaxing—self-absorbed prick—while Tommy has to promise to not touch Techno’s fencing gear anymore for him to come down. Little did Techno know that Tommy crossed his fingers behind his back.
“Oooo, presents!” Wilbur cheers, sitting down at the table. Techno ignores the presents and grabs a plate, filling it with mashed potatoes.
“Open now or later?” Phil asks. Tommy doesn’t even know why he bothers with that question anymore.
“Now,” Techno says. Half of his plate is already gone.
“Open mine first,” Tommy demands, placing the blue present in front of Wilbur and the pink in front of Techno.
What is probably the only thing that makes them twins—other than their hybrid class—is their tenacity in opening presents. Wilbur, the musician capable of the softest of melodies, absolutely demolishes his wrapping paper. Techno, the introverted soul who delicately handles his prized books, annihilates his.
Tommy waits nervously, knowing his brothers will like the presents but nevertheless always scared of rejection.
“Oh Tommy,” Wilbur says softly, handling the crown with the utmost care, “This is beautiful.” Tommy preens under the praise. “But why is my crown… Techno-fied?”
“What? Wait, what?” Tommy says, confusion forming on his face. Oh shit, he gave them the wrong presents. Fuck fuck fuck fuck oh shit fuck.
Sudden arms wrap around him, cutting off his panic. “Thanks Theseus,” Techno’s gruff voice washes over him. “It was the intentions that mattered.”
Phil’s hand rests on his shoulder, “That was awfully nice of you, Tommy. It’s almost like you like your brothers.”
Tommy flushes in embarrassment—from Phil’s implications of familial love (gross) and from switching the crowns on accident.
“Just– you both– you guys like ‘em right?”
Wilbur’s arms wrap around Techno’s, effectively sandwiching Tommy in the middle. “Oh Toms, we love them. Even if you are stupid sometimes. Plus, it’s a nice change from suffering through your shapeshifting performances.”
“Wil, be nice,” Phil chides.
Tommy gawks, “My performances do not suck. And I’m not fuckin’ stupid, bitch!”
Techno shushes them, “Quiet. Instincts being loud.”
Tommy immediately quiets, basking in the love and affection.
He wouldn’t trade this for the world, not even if his shapeshifting powers were at sake.