The comfort of a cat hybrid. ✔

One-shot: Loved cat.

'Why aren't you eating it?' He had asked, watching with a puzzled expression as the cat hybrid placed it on one of the fridge shelves.

'It's for Techno.' Wilbur answered, intending on dragging the piglin hybrid downstairs to eat at the usual time.

'Oh, then why is there only one?' The cat hybrid didn't answer, choosing to pull out some random juice from the fridge door to distract himself as Phil put together the pieces in his mind. 'You- you have been eating lunch, right?' Wilbur didn't reply, suddenly feeling guilty at the way his voice obviously got higher with concern.

'Wilbur Soot! You-'

'It's fine.' He interrupted, shakily taking a couple sips of his juice. 'I just don't get hungry, that's all. Not used to 3 meals a day...' He chuckled awkwardly when he noticed the shadow of a rather large wing reflected across the counter.

'I understand mate but try and at least eat a snack at lunch time.' Phil's voice was insanely gentle, his wings folding across Wilbur with support.

'Yeah, yeah, yeah.'

The cat hybrid had no plans of doing that, but it seemed like Phil already knew that. The next day the elytrian insisted that he ate something, giving him a look when Wilbur said he'd do it later, claiming that he wanted to make Techno lunch and that he'd eat with him if it made him happy. He wasn't completely lying; he did want to make the piglin hybrid lunch after all. That plan went out the window when Phil got Techno involved, his excuses dying instantly when the protective piglin hybrid chopped up apple and shoved it in his hands, looking pleased when he hesitantly ate it.

Both Phil and Techno looked smug that evening when they were eating dinner, and Wilbur glared lightly at the pair with a knowing look.

--

The next incident was one of the few times Wilbur shifted during the day, the boredom of having nothing to do convincing him to shift out of free will. Tommy was at school, Phil was working, and Techno was dead set on reading, his nose practically shoved inside the book when Wilbur had gone to check on him. He had been too restless to read or watch anything, his cat instincts running rampage inside his brain, and he couldn't help but listen to the desire to shift.

He wasn't sure how he ended up where he was, but he was too tired to care. The cat hybrid was curled up into a small ball on one of their bookshelves, the corners of his eyes heavy with sleep as he allowed himself to drift off, the reasoning that sleeping would past the time being the last thought on his mind. Wilbur convinced himself that it would only be for 20 minutes, a simple cat nap if that.

A couple hours passed, and Wilbur didn't even notice until he felt arms scoop him up. Tommy had informed him afterwards that he had come home from school, noticing that he was asleep on 'a fucking bookshelf of all things' instead of somewhere 'actually comfortable.' He remembered snuggling into the raccoon hybrid arms that day, not even attempting to wake up with the sheer tiredness that overcame him.

'Is he okay?' Phil had asked Tommy when he had been carried into Phil's office.

'Dunno, found him sleeping on a bookshelf.'

'A bookshelf?' Wilbur had woken up at that, slowly lifting his head from Tommy's shoulder and blinking slowly. He took one glance at Phil's worried look before instantly curling back into the raccoon hybrid, trying to go back to sleep to not deal with that conversation. Tommy simply laughed at him as Phil spluttered various noises, swearing constantly as he attempted to coax Wilbur into opening his eyes. The cat hybrid eventually complied, giving Phil the most innocent face he could muster up before shifting when the elytrian gave him a pointed look.