Remy Has Kind Of Weirdly Become My Comfort Character

Based off this post after reading it I knew I had to draw it. Love these two.

Thank you @septic-dr-schneep for the amazing writing each and everyday. I swear you give me so much inspiration every time I come on to your blog (which is everyday). I’m terrible with words sorry what I’m trying to say is that I appreciate you a whole lot and expect some more art coming from me in the future <3

Hope you like the drawing!

some more small town sbi house because it’s been a criminally long time since I posted

Techno and Phil share a duplex

Tubbo and Tommy think Wilbur is the coolest thing ever and he’s a really great big brother

Tommy has a golden retriever collie mix named henry

Tubbo is two days older than Tommy

Tommy will occasionally, in a fit of rebellion, “move in” with Techno for a few days until he inevitably misses Tubbo too much and moves back in with Phil. Phil and techno just roll with it

Techno has a white Tibetan mastiff named Steve. Steve doesn’t do much

Tommy and Tubbo take one look at tall, gangly, socially awkward Ranboo and just go “big man needs us” and freaking adopt him and he just rolls with it because it’s affection and he couldn’t stop them anyway. Tommy is doing his very best to be a bad influence on Ranboo and Tubbo has threatened Techno with a custody war multiple times

Phil notices that Ranboo likes to be around the dogs but both dogs are very much someone else’s so he asks Ranboo if he wants a pet and they get him a bunny

Tommy and Tubbo have to be separated when either of them is sick because they’re both extra clingy when they’re sick and will get the other sick immediately. But it’s also very very hard to separate them

They swap back and forth between having breakfast at Techno’s or at Phil’s

Tommy and Phil are the same height, but Tommy is tall and Phil is short, I don’t make the rules

They have one car. It used to be Techno’s 

im bored and i have no shame so here have this entirely unedited draft that i’ll probably never finish

“You two don’t sit still much, do you?” 

Phil watched the two boys carefully. The taller one looks ready to bolt, or possibly attack Phil if it came to that. He’s wiry, barely an ounce of meat on him, fear poorly hidden by anger on his dirty face and a hand tucked into his friend’s. His clothes aren’t anywhere close to new or even clean. Phil took in the worn shirt and wondered if one of Wilbur’s old shirts would fit him. The little one looked a bit less world worn, if only because he’s less gaunt. By the way the taller was poised to react if Phil made some wrong move, he could guess that he must have been the protector. Phil wouldn’t be surprised if he gave most of his food to his friend when times were lean. 

The short one was looking at Phil with a politely neutral expression. It was a facade though, Phil realized. His eyes had a familiar observant intensity. Phil smiled, reminded of a boy with pink hair who’d looked at him the same way. 

“No sir,” the little one answered. 

Phil keeps his face even and lets himself be judged. The short one spares a glance at his friend, hardly taking his eyes off of Phil for more than a few seconds, and Phil watches the two boys have an entire conversation in front of him without uttering a word. He catches the head tilt of a question, and barely keeps from laughing out loud at hearing the little one mumble, “I can’t understand you when you look at me like that.”

Eventually, their conversation reaches its conclusion because now the tall one is looking at him with loaded and hesitant hope and the little one turns back to Phil with the air of a businessman. 

“Do you have anything that needs fixing at your house?” 

He doesn’t ask anything else. Not for food or shelter or even pay for the labor. And oh, Phil wants to pull them both into his arms and give them the chance to forget the ways they’ve learned to keep themselves alive. But he can’t. Not yet. They’re too wary, too tired now to accept the possibility of rest, so he pretends to look thoughtful for a moment. 

“The garden is about ready. Big harvest this year; I doubt I could pull it all in by myself. I’m not as young as I used to be.” He doesn’t mention that he has two helpers waiting at home, nor that age has never really made a dent in his ability. 

“We’re good with gardening,” the taller one says, finally speaking up now that Phil has apparently been deemed mostly harmless.

“Harvesting, at least,” the shorter one interjects.

“Yeah. Never could get anything to grow on our own, but we’ve helped with plenty of harvests.”

“That’s good. I can pay you and feed you if you’ll give me a little help.”

The boys’ eyes get a bit brighter, and the short one nods enthusiastically. 

“My house is this way. It’s a bit into the woods; can you walk that far?”

The tall one apparently takes offense to that, because he huffs and pulls on his friend's hand, speeding up and walking ahead of Phil towards the woods. The smaller one looks back at Phil, who smiles goodnaturedly, and then turns back to follow his friend. Phil follows at a distance. He won’t begrudge these two their independence. They’ve been through too much to be patronized, even by genuine concern for them. 

Soon though, they reach the edge of the woods and slow down, realizing they don’t know the way. They’re startled by Phil draping his cloak over their shoulders. He couldn’t help it; they looked so cold. And it felt better to do something instead of just wondering how often they slept outside in this weather. The shorter looked down in shock, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. The tall one looked at Phil with something between accusation and confusion. His eyes widened when Phil walked past, though. Phil smiled, a bit of mischief in his eyes as the tall one nudged his friend without looking away and suddenly there were two sets of eyes staring in awe at the large wings on Phil’s back. 

“It’s this way,” Phil said, gesturing for the boys to follow.

“You have wings!” The tall one shouted.

“Can you fly?” The other asked.

“Not here, the trees are too low. I’d have to go over.”

“You can fly!” That was the tall one again.

“Thanks mate, I noticed.”

He didn’t miss another wordless exchange between the two, but he didn’t bother wondering what it was about.

“What should I call you?” He asked, letting the conversation drift away from his wings. Surprisingly, the taller took no time to answer.

“Tommy. This is Tubbo.”

“Tommy,” Tubbo scolded, for some reason.

“Tubbo, huh?” Phil asked. 

“Sorry sir. It’s… Toby. My name is Toby.”

Tommy looked upset at that. 

“I can call you what you like. Do you prefer Tubbo?”

Tubbo looked surprised, but Tommy answered for him.

“He does.”

Tubbo looked at Phil apprehensively. Apparently deciding that Phil was being genuine, he nodded shyly.

“Tubbo it is then.” 

They walked for a while, Phil leading at little more than an amble, and the two boys trailing behind him, whispering excitedly and glancing at his wings, and sharing the cloak between them. 

They reached the house by the time the sun was almost down. The horses were missing from their small stable, which meant that techno and will were still out. That was probably good. Phil didn’t want to overwhelm the two boys. He ushered them inside, not missing how they were trying to hide their shivering, especially Tommy. 

“The garden is out back. We can work on it tomorrow,” Phil said.

“Tommy and I can work on it tonight if you want,” Tubbo offered.

“It can wait. We can have dinner for now. May as well rest while it’s dark.”

Jack, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, we feast.

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come at me

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This turned out a lot better than I thought, so I’m posting it. Here’s a little bust of Marvin the magnificent!!!