Work Text:
TommyInnit is currently the happiest Man in the world. Oh, why? You ask. Please tell us, oh great Tommy Innit, the Biggest and Most Amazing And Greatest Man in the world, do tell!
Well, the reason is simple. It’s—
‘CHRISTMAS EVE! FUCK YEAH!’
The day had started off at exactly 8 in the morning, with a bang and a loud scream (as seen above) as Tommy tripped halfway down the stairs in his haste to inform the rest of the household.
His loudness had awoken the spirit within his brothers, for it didn’t take long before Tommy was holding Wilbur and Techno’s hands, and the three of them were jumping around in a little circle (or, well, Tommy and Wilbur were. Techno’s too much of a pretentious bitch to properly dance. Or show his excitement.).
Anyway, the boys were greeted with their equally happy mother from the kitchen, as well as a slightly grumpy father on the couch.
‘Morning, bitches!’ Tommy yelled on his way to the mini fridge beside the TV (installed when Phil and Techno started their midnight anime marathons).
Phil muttered a half-hearted “language” from his place, face planted into the couch. Tommy made special care to shout at someone to give their Dad his coffee. His old man brain couldn’t handle all the pog without it.
Meanwhile, Wilbur was chatting with Mom.
‘Hey, Mom, what were you saying the other day about work?’ He asked, sitting down on the stairs. Techno kicked his side as he went down, to which Wilbur poked his tongue out at him. ‘Something about your name?’
Kristin chuckled. ‘Yeah, it was pretty funny. Someone accidentally spelled it as “Trixtin”.’ She said fondly, ‘Schlatt’s always been a little down on the spelling side, but that one was insane, even for him.’
Tommy frowned. ‘Schlatt?’ Nod. ‘Schlatt, as in, Tubbo’s dad?’
Wilbur smacked the back of his head. When had he gotten to the living room? ‘Yeah, he and Mom have been working together for a few months now. Do you ever listen, child?’
Tommy gasped, clutching his heart. ‘How dare you, bitch! I am the best listener in the world, in fact, my ears are perfectly fine, you’re the one who can’t hear.’
Wilbur stuck his tongue out, leaning against the main fridge.
‘Who said anything about hearing ability?’
The blonde blushed red and sweared violently at his brother, who only smirked.
Behind them, Techno handed Phil his coffee with a small smile, which he took with a smile of his own (the mug said “WORLD’S GREATEST FATHER” in blinding red, gifted by Technoblade himself.). Techno leans forward, and Phil touches their foreheads. So, so gently. Their matching earrings, bought five years ago and never taken off, glint in the soft morning light.
Kristin smiled softly at the sight. Wilbur and Tommy, still absorbed in their argument, do not notice, although the older one still slipped a hand into the steaming plate of cookies. A hand which is swatted away with a look from Kristin.
Don’t think I didn’t notice your expedition.
It was, indeed, Christmas Eve. The excitement was palpable in the air, in Phil’s constant smiles, in Wilbur’s cheerful humming, in the way Techno was actually talking, and, of course, in Kristin’s absolute refusal to exit the kitchen.
Their mother had decided to get an early start on the cooking, obviously, since the food was undoubtedly the favorite part of the day for most (all) of the members.
As the rest of the family continued chatting, Tommy began texting furiously in his group chat with Tubbo and Ranboo. Can’t forget the extended family, can he?
Anyway, a few hours later, Dad and his brothers were ushered out by some very specific threats from Mom in the kitchen, since they’d still not bought their presents (how dare they! Tommy himself, being the big man he is, had finished his shopping about a week earlier.).
So, once they leave, Tommy does the only thing he can still do.
He entered the kitchen.
Hey, he was just concerned for his mother! She’d been in the kitchen since before any of them woke up, and now it was, like, 5 in the afternoon.
Now, despite popular (3/4) belief, Tommy wasn’t chaotic! He could be plenty civilized when he wanted, and this was one of those rare moments.
Though he didn’t usually show it, Tommy genuinely really liked cooking. It was a small thing, in the wide world of nice things he’s done in his nice life with his nice family, but it stands out.
With Wilbur, he had his music. He had this love which stretched across oceans, across eternity, across the infinite universe and beyond . The love he had for these silly little noises, strung together to make music , a small word for something so endlessly beautiful. It was a love he felt every time he positioned his fingers a certain way over the ever-cherished piano, every time he and Wilbur played something together, and every night when Wilbur gave him a tiny smile before playing his guitar until they both fell asleep.
With Techno, there’s knowledge, and everything which came along with it. Since as far as he could remember, Tommy had associated learning, in general, with his oldest brother. Everything he had ever learned, ever cared to remember, ever needed to know, he had gotten from Technoblade. Not from school, not from anything else. Tommy himself didn’t have a particular knack for school, but Techno always got this little glint in his eye whenever he went to him for any sort of help, whether it was Math or Spanish (although he is just a bit more enthusiastic with English). If not for anything, Tommy tried for his brother. His brother, who always has and always will, cheered the loudest whenever he was in the list of toppers, or when he won some sort of competition.
With Dad, Philza Minecraft himself, it was every single thing under the moon and everything under the sun. It was the hundreds of questions asked in the naivety of early childhood, and the thousands of times he’d gone to his father for advice in teenagedom. He shared his very soul with Phil, every part of him that made him Tommy, and Phil just took it all and held it higher and higher, made him jump higher every time, and Phil was the reason for his very being .
With his mother, it’s cooking. The simplest act of love; providing the one thing required for life itself. There’s a quiet sort of nourishment in there, a quiet sort of way to show how much one cares. That had always been Kristin’s defining factor; a love which does not notify every person within a mile of it, but a love which filled the air nonetheless. A love which crept silently and curled gently and hugged warmly.
As Kristin spotted him approaching, a small smile overtook her face. She stepped aside from her place near the stove, where she’d been watching something brew.
Neither of them say anything - they don’t need to. Snuggled in the blanket of comfortable silence, Tommy began work on what Kristin had been doing, and his mother shifted towards the counter to chop some vegetables.
The quiet sizzling and rhythmic noise of the knife colliding with the board dulled his mind, and they worked.
(The next morning, after the presents have been dealt with — ‘Now, we thank the greatest gods, Kristin and Tommy Watson, for the amazing meal we have been presented with today.’)