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1.
As soon as Tommy presses the button to end the stream, he slumps down into his seat with a sigh of relief. It had only been a short stream, and yet he was completely wiped.
He's ashamed to admit it, but obviously, he can't lie to himself anymore. This stream showed him what he had been avoiding for weeks now, proving everyone who told him to pace himself right.
Tommyinnit is burnt out.
Pitiful, isn't it?
The great Tommyinnit , the one who got ten million in one year, is burnt out. He's supposed to be above that, he thinks to himself furiously. He was going to be the one who proved the others wrong, the exception to the rule. After all, Minecraft was something that made him happy. He wasn't just good at it, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed using it to play with his friends, enjoyed the feelings he got when he successfully pulled off an MLG, and enjoyed just goofing off . Not only that, he enjoyed putting on the persona for the streams, enjoyed acting, enjoyed playing with his friends.
He guesses that doesn't stop him from feeling sick at the idea of organizing another mod video, joining someone else's stream, doing anything that required the cameras, recording every word he says, everything he does.
He leans back into his seat, looking at the ceiling, tears gathering into the corner of his eyes. Because it isn't that fucking easy , was it? His limbs may feel heavy, and his head may feel like it's filled to the brim with cotton, but he can't just quit . Ignoring for a moment the fact that he had near a dozen prior obligations, taking a break simply wasn't an option for Tommy.
Tommy knew exactly what would happen if he took a break. He wasn't stupid.
Taking a break from streaming meant that his friends wouldn't have any reason to spend time with him anymore. His friends cared about him, sure, but they mostly cared about the numbers, cared about the clout that being friends with Tommyinnit would bring. After all, their friendship started because of streaming, and without content, it would be hard to maintain it. The cameras are on for a reason, and it’s hard to get a moment without them.
If Tommy stops streaming, it’ll be as good as saying goodbye to his friendships forever.
Tommy doesn’t want that.
God, he can’t even imagine willingly going back to it. He’s gotten a taste of that, back when he was bullied for his old channel, and the idea of going back to that overwhelming loneliness was unthinkable.
And sue him, he enjoys the attention. Even if most of the time, he’s just there for views, it still feels nice to be noticed .
So here he is, sitting at his desk after a stream, angsting up a storm.
God, how did it all get to this? He still remembers when this used to be fun , when he had no problem streaming for long periods of time, when the Youtube videos were all just fun and games, when the bits were easy to pull off.
It doesn’t feel that way anymore, does it? Streaming is just a chore now. For years, it was fun, a way to relieve the stress of the world, but with his fame came an overwhelming exhaustion that he can’t shake.
He sighs and pushes his chair back. It skids across the floor towards his door, and he stands up to head downstairs.
His dad is already setting the table; he hadn’t realized it was quite that late. “I can help,” he says, heading over to the plate rack, and his dad smiles at him.
“Did your stream go well, Tom?” his dad asks, nodding appreciatively at him as he sidesteps Tommy to grab the food on the stove.
Tommy winces minutely, but he answers, “Yeah, it went just fine. I’ll probably stream once more, and stream more next week.”
Tommy can see the way his dad furrows his brows, a comment obviously on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t say anything.
As he sets the plates on the table, his mum comes down the stairs as well. “Smells good, honey,” she says as she takes her place at the table. “Did your stream go well, Tom?” she asks as well. Tommy sighs.
“Yeah, I plan to do one more stream this week, and then do a few more next week to make up for the lack of content.” he says, grabbing a forkful of his pasta.
“Tom,” she says, putting down her fork. “Aren’t you afraid that you’re pushing yourself? I know that you tell us that you know your limits, but that seems like a lot.” Unlike his father, his mother doesn’t hesitate to voice her concerns.
“I’m fine, mum, honest. I’ve been doing this for so long, I’ve got it. A little bit of exhaustion won’t beat me. Besides, if I miss a stream, what would the ladies think?,” Tommy says with a mouthful of pasta.
His mum purses her lips. “Tom, this isn’t healthy. You need to balance your schedule better. We’ve talked about this. Your success is wonderful, but what will you do if you burn out? Having a consistent schedule is best for you, even if it means less content. Everyone will understand, Tom,” she says, his dad nodding in agreement at the other side of the table. Tommy bites down the instinctual response that he is already burnt out and is handling it just fine, thank you very much.
“Mum, I’ll be just fine. If I’m struggling with it, you’ll be the first one I tell, okay?” Tommy says, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. He isn’t going to back down though, because quitting simply isn’t an option. He values his friendships too much to even dream of that.
His parents take that as an answer, so they end the dinner with a slightly awkward silence, Tommy losing himself in the deafening silence, deep in his head.
It’s on a late night call after Tommy’s second stream that week that Tommy accidentally spills the beans.
Late night calls have become somewhat of a tradition between him and Wilbur. Every now and then, in the late hours of the night, when sleep eludes them both, they call until one feels sleepy. Yes, it may usually be Tommy, but who can blame him? When Wilbur starts to play his guitar and hum along to the chord progressions he’s testing out, no one can blame Tommy for being relaxed enough to sleep.
It’s on one of these chill, low energy calls that it happens.
Wilbur is playing the guitar, testing out new chord progressions. He’s told Tommy that he wants to try using more nontraditional progressions, whatever that means, and is drawing inspiration from various jazz artists. Tommy doesn’t really understand, but when Wilbur starts playing the guitar, he can’t help but be relaxed. He’s already wiped out from the stream, and he can feel himself slipping into a more sleepy mindset. He sighs and rests his head on his arms on the desk in front of him. Wilbur takes note of this, and Tommy can hear the smile in his voice.
“Getting sleepy, Toms?” Wilbur coos, and oh , Tommy hates the fact that his brain got mushy at that. In fact, he feels almost floaty , in a way. Not even from the nickname- he just feels warm, safe, in a way, in general.
“‘M not fuckin’ sleepy,” he mutters, muffled by his arm.
“Sorry, what was that, child? Because that sounds like you just said you were sleepy , which sounds about right.”
“‘M not!” Tommy protests, his body feeling light. Okay, maybe he is a bit sleepy, but he isn’t passing up any time that could be spent with Wilbur, considering that if he does go on a break, it would mean that Wilbur would be completely out of the equation.
Wilbur suddenly stops strumming his guitar. “What do you mean by that?” Wilbur asks, an odd tone to his voice. What does he mean by that? God, Wilbur can be so weird sometimes. “What do you mean , what do I mean? Tommy, are you going on break?”
Tommy feels a bit heavier as Wilbur says that, but too tired to really comprehend the consequences of Wilbur’s knowledge. “How do you know about that,” Tommy asks. “Are you- are you a super spy, bitch?”
“Tommy, you just told me. What do you mean by ‘I’ll be out of the equation?’” Tommy blinks. Oh, he must’ve said that out loud. “Yeah , you said it out loud. Tommy,” Wilbur asks, his tone softer, “Are you okay? You can tell me about anything, you know that, right?”
“‘s nothing, Wilbur,” he says with a big yawn. “Promise. Just thinking about taking a break. Won’t actually, though.”
“Toms,” Wilbur gently says, “buttercup, I think that a break would be good for you. You’ve been working so much, there’s no shame in taking a break, a vacation, to just relax and take time for yourself.”
Tommy feels himself flush at the nickname, and he gives the screen a sleepy smile. Wilbur gives a little chuckle at seeing his grin. “Come on, buttercup, as adorable as you are, I need to know you heard me.”
Tommy sighs dramatically. “You know, Wilbur. If I leave, no one will have time for me anymore and you’ll all forget me.”
There’s a long pause. Then, finally, Wilbur speaks. “What?” Tommy winces at the harsh tone, and Wilbur softens his voice when he speaks again. “Love, no one is going to leave you if you stop streaming for a bit. We’ll still remember you, it would be hard to forget you.”
Tommy frowns. “But… but that’s not true. You wouldn’t have enough time to deal with me, and why would you want to, anyways? No one would want to put up with me anyways, unless I’m helping with making content for them.” At that, Wilbur falls silent for a minute.
“Sweetheart, you don’t really think that, do you?” he asks, his concern obvious in his tone of voice.
Tommy just gives a hum in reply, already half asleep. He can hear Wilbur sigh, but he oddly doesn’t say anything else, he just continues playing his guitar. “Rest well, buttercup,” Tommy hears as his eyes fall shut.
He sleeps fitfully. He’s used to it, though.
Tommy wakes up lying on his desk. Exhausted, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, but he finds himself concerned when he wakes up with discord still open, realizing that he cannot remember most of the call from last night. He remembers the beginning, where Tommy and Wilbur just talked and goofed around, but after that, it’s hazy. He remembers a guitar- which makes sense, Wilbur usually ends up playing the guitar until he falls asleep, but he also remembers Wilbur saying something. He sounded concerned, he thinks?
God, he despises his brain when he doesn’t get enough sleep. He acts all- weird , he gets soft and then he can’t even remember most of it in the morning. Fuck sleep deprivation. With a sigh, he pulls up his discord messages with Wilbur and sends a quick message.
Tommyinnit Today at 8:46
hey sorry if I sounded like a fucking tory last night
I was really tired and don’t remember much of it
because unlike you I require sleep because I am not a bitch
He winces. Was that strange of him to send? Does it sound off at all? Will Wilbur somehow find out about how he’s been feeling? That would be awful, god, he can’t even imagine that. Wilbur was one of the few people that could maybe care about him too, outside of streaming. He doesn’t know what would happen if he told Wilbur about how he’s been feeling, but either way, it wouldn’t be good.
Before he can panic too much however, Tommy gets a message back from Wilbur.
Wilbur Soot Today at 8:48
What do you remember?
Tommy furrows his eyebrows, but replies anyway.
Tommyinnit Today at 8:48
why the hell does that matter, bitch???
if you really need to know
I remember you playing guitar
and you talking to me
but that’s all
Nothing happens for a moment, and Tommy bites his lip, but navigates to another page to wait for a response. A couple minutes later, another message goes through, which Tommy quickly clicks to read.
Wilbur Soot Today at 8:51
Yeah, that’s basically it. You were really tired so you fell right asleep, I just played guitar and talked you to sleep but that was about it
I hope you slept well
He relaxes at that. Surely if something had really happened, or if Tommy really weirded him out, Wilbur would have words about it right now. Tommy had nothing to worry about. Wilbur was many things, but he wasn’t afraid to confront a problem if something was genuinely bothering him.
Tommy goes to work on selecting which clips should be used for his latest Youtube video, the incident lost from mind.
+1
For a few days after that, Tommy doesn’t hear much from his friends. He tries to pretend it didn’t make him wince. Everyone seems to be busy planning other things, which is okay! He can handle some solo streams, no problem, and he has a backlog of mod videos, so he can just make up for it by filming a couple videos next week instead of one.
He tries to push down the voice that they’re already leaving him before he even took a break. He doesn’t exactly succeed.
One afternoon, Tommy is wallowing in his self misery, too tired to even attempt to edit a video, when there’s a knock at the door. Tommy knows that his mum is busy and his dad is out of the house at a meeting, so he forces himself out of the chair and down the stairs to the door. Another knock sounds when he’s almost there, and he calls out at the door, “hold on, I’m coming!”
When he opens the door, the last thing he expects is to see Tubbo and Ranboo, sleeping bags and backpacks in tow.
“Tubbo? Ranboo?” Tommy asks, mouth open and eyes wide. “What the- the fuck are you guys doing here?”
Tubbo doesn’t answer, pushing past him to make his way into the house. “Hey, Tubs, what the fuck-” Tommy says, turning to watch Tubbo make himself at home. “Oi, dickhead, I’m talking to you!” Tubbo doesn’t even spare him a glance, making his way upstairs. Tommy swings his head back to the door to look at Ranboo, who simply shrugs.
“Don’t you shrug at me, bitch boy! What the fuck are you two doing here? At least give me a bit of warning- wait, did you two bring fucking sleeping bags?”
Ranboo shrugs again, the absolute dick. “Surprise?” He says, stepping by Tommy to make his way into the house.
Tommy gawks at him. “I don’t- I can’t believe- you twats can’t just come here without any warning! What if I hadn’t been here? Are you two planning on staying the fucking night ?”
Ranboo looks down at him like he’s the one who’s being an idiot in this situation. Unbelievable. “Well, yeah, that’s what the sleeping bags are for,” Ranboo says, looking anywhere but his eyes.
Tommy stares at him wide eyed, “What the fuck. No. I don’t- you can’t just come to my house and just tell me that you’re staying here!”
“Well, I mean, why not?” Ranboo asks, staring Tommy in the eyes.
They do an unofficial staring contest for a full minute, until Tommy finally gives in. “Fine. Whatever. You win. Fuckin’ hell, mate.” He goes up the stairs, walking past his room to see Tubbo digging through one of his bags. He ignores it and goes straight to his mum’s office, knocking on the door.
“Come in!” her voice rings out, and Tommy opens the door and steps in.
“Mum,” Tommy asks, “Can Ranboo and Tubbo stay over tonight?”
His mum blinks. “I suppose? When are they coming over? Will they be here before dinner? Should I plan for two more?”
“Oh, yeah, plan for that, cause they’re already here. Thanks mum!” he says before fleeing her office. He does not want to get an earful about something that he didn’t even cause.
He heads back downstairs, skipping steps on his way down, to see Tubbo setting up something on the TV. He turns to Ranboo. “Mum says that you guys can stay over for the night. Thanks for the warning, by the way, boob boy.”
“Don’t look at me!” Ranboo says, hands held up. “This whole thing was all Tubbo’s idea!”
Tommy swivels his head back over to Tubbo, whose eyes are fixated on whatever he is doing. It looks like some sort of gaming device, he thinks, before realizing that it’s a Nintendo Switch.
“Got it!” Tubbo finally exclaims, before turning towards Tommy with a wide grin. “We’ve got a whole day of hanging out planned, bossman. I hope you’re ready. I’ve got a new game for us to play together.”
Tommy blinks in confusion. “Oh, okay. Should I go get a stream set up then?” He asks, already prepared to grab a camera and a laptop for streaming. Both Tubbo and Ranboo grimace at that.
“Actually, uh, how about we don’t stream today, Tommy? Just take a day to chill together? We can hang out and all without it having to be a big thing with the fans.” Tubbo nods in agreement.
“Yeah, Tommy, take a break, man! We’re friends, it’s okay for us to hang out without needing some shitty excuse of cameras or some bullshit like that.” Tommy looks over at both of them, still confused, but he drops it and takes a place on the couch. Tubbo hands them all controllers, and sets up a game called “Boomerang Fu”.
“You two better get prepared to get absolutely fucked,” Tommy says. Ranboo snorts, and Tubbo looks at him with an unimpressed face. It takes a second, his words sinking in. He cringed, “oh, not like that, you sick bastards! Absolutely disgusting! You better prepare to get your ass beat in this game!”
Tubbo snorts. “Whatever you say, Tommy.” Ranboo chokes out a laugh at that, and Tommy rolls his eyes, just barely able to hide his smile.
“
How the fuck have you guys gotten
all
of the fuckin’ powerups! Save some for me, bitch!”
They both respond by simultaneously throwing a boomerang at Tommy’s character. His watermelon character falls over as it’s sliced in two, leaving Tubbo’s bacon character and Ranboo’s sushi to deck it out.
He groans and slumps back against the couch, but the smile on his face is apparent for all to see.
They play video games for nearly the entire day, not even realizing when night falls and his mum begins work on dinner. They eat dinner at the table together, and before he knows it, the entire day has passed, and Tommy has hardly thought about the stress he’s been under.
Tommy’s mother and father both turn in early, leaving the boys on the couch.
“Well, I dunno ‘bout you two, but I’m not tired at all,” Ranboo says, breathing a sigh of relief when both Tommy and Tubbo agree with him. “Oh, thank god. I don’t know what I would do if you both were tired. That would’ve been so awkward.”
“Well, what do you want to do then? We’ve been on this bloody couch for like, 6 hours now, and I don’t know about you two, but I for one would like to get off of it.” Tommy says. They let their brain wander for a moment, wondering what they could do.
“We could go see a movie?” Tubbo suggests, but Ranboo shakes his head.
“I don’t think there’s really any showings this late, and I’ll have to wear the whole get up, which I really don’t want to do unless I have to.”
Tommy frowns, until an idea comes to mind. “Maybe I could show you around my neighborhood? Fancy a walk?”
Tubbo and Ranboo both look at each other, talking silently in the way that they do, before looking at Tommy and nodding. Tommy smiles wide. “Well what are we waiting for, bitch!” he says, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up. “Let’s fuckin’ go!”
On the tour, Tommy finds himself unintentionally leading them to his old elementary school.
He expects it to be just a little off-hand thing, like “oh look, this is the primary school that I went to when I was younger,” before moving on to the next place.
He really didn’t expect Tubbo to turn to him, an almost maniac look in his eye, saying, “Let’s break in.”
“What?” Ranboo asked, voicing Tommy’s exact thoughts. “Tubbo, I really do not think that we should be advocating crime here.”
“Well, why not?” Tubbo asks. “I mean, we won’t really be breaking into the school, will we? We can just go to the school grounds, play on the playground, that fun stuff. We don’t have to break into the buildings.” He looks at both of them. “Unless you’re scared, of course?”
Tommy snaps at that. “Of course I’m not scared, bitch! I’ll show you, I’ll climb this fence faster than you ever will!” he says, already climbing over the chain link fence. It goes by fairly quickly, with Tommy’s long legs making the process that much faster.
After hopping the fence, Tubbo and Ranboo following behind, Tommy gives them a tour of the school. During the time though, he can’t stop thinking.
If his elementary school self saw him right now, would he be proud?
Well, of course he would be proud of the Youtube channel, and him being one of the most successful streamers, but would he be proud of him being sick of it? Would he be proud of him if he gave it up?
His train of thought is broken by Tubbo nudging his shoulder. “Hey big man,” he says, angling his head towards the dumpster, conveniently positioned that if they stood on it, they would be tall enough to reach the roof. “Wanna go?” he asks, which really, that’s a shitty question. Of course Tommy wants to do some mild crime, that’s not even in question.
“Oh, I really do not think that is a good idea,” Ranboo says, but when Tommy and Tubbo get a plan into their heads, Ranboo’s passive nature can’t stop them, and they all know that.
They climb onto the roof, Tubbo going up first, then Tommy, with Ranboo following behind. They walk over to the ledge, and just sit in silence, staring at the scenery.
Tubbo’s the one to first break the silence. “Penny for your thoughts, big man?” he says, nudging Ranboo’s shoulder.
“Oh, nothing, just thinking about how we’re going to get arrested and I’ll have to go through my own exile arc back to America. And then the fans will all be mad about the UK trip being cut short. So yeah, I’m doing just great. You?” he says dryly.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Tubbo says, rolling his eyes. “The most that’ll happen is that we’ll have to pay a fine. God knows we have enough money for that.”
“Yeah, I’m slightly concerned about how you are not worried at all about how this could go on our criminal records,” Ranboo says, sighing. “You know what, I give up. Tommy, what about you? How are you doing, knowing that we could be arrested any minute?” Ranboo asks, coaxing Tommy into the bit.
“Do you think that the younger me would be proud of me?” he asks, shattering the mood. He can see Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s shift in the mood, and he hates it. He instinctively opens his mouth to make a funny bit, distract them all, somehow make them forget about him saying that, but Tubbo speaks before he can.
“Honestly?” Tubbo says, “I ask myself that too,” The crickets chirp below, and Tubbo kicks his legs against the wall of the building. “Like, the Minecraft part is great, obviously, but I dropped out of college, you know? That’s not what I thought I would be doing when I was twelve.”
Tommy takes a deep breath of the humid air, looking at Tubbo. The street lights barely illuminate where they are, but Tommy can see the vulnerability on Tubbo’s face clearly.
Tommy diverts his attention to Ranboo as he nods. “Sometimes I regret not going immediately to college, because like, what if this streaming thing just doesn’t work out? What if I get cancelled, or fall into obscurity? It’ll happen so fast, but I got so many people who follow my content so quickly, it feels like I could lose them all just as fast.”
Tommy looks up, counting the stars, building up the courage to speak. Finally, he says in a close whisper, “I’ve been thinking about taking a break. Distancing myself from streaming for a bit.” He doesn’t look at either of them, refusing to see their reactions. “It just- it feels like a shit thing to do, you know? I feel like I’m taking my success for granted, when other people have to work hard and stream consistently to succeed, and most of the time, it’s not even guaranteed!”
He glares down at his feet. He almost opens his mouth, almost works up the courage to tell them, but then Ranboo starts to talk, and the little courage Tommy had melted away completely.
“I get that completely. Especially recently, I’ve felt like a bad streamer for not streaming every day like I used to. It’s really hard to stop thinking about that. But Tommy-”
“Look, actually big man, I don’t think I actually want to talk about this right now. Could we just- drop it or some shit?” Tommy could feel Ranboo and Tubbo’s silent disapproval at that, but they didn’t push, and the topic was forgotten, replaced with much lighter bits.
They head home soon after that, the atmosphere much lighter. Tubbo and Ranboo have either forgotten it, or are pretending to for Tommy’s sake.
Tommy lies awake that night, as Tubbo and Ranboo doze in their sleeping bags on the floor, and wonders if he should have shared more, or if it would have been a mistake. He wakes up in the morning exhausted, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.
+2
Several days later, Tommy had almost forgotten about the quiet moment of vulnerability with Tubbo and Ranboo on the roof. He was too busy struggling to stream, trying to think of funny video ideas, trying to keep it altogether. He was exhausted.
He sat at his desk, staring at the blank document open on his computer titled “Ideas” until a voice broke through his wandering thoughts.
“Tommy!” his mum calls from downstairs. “There’s a package for you here!”
A package? He doesn’t think he bought anything recently. “For me?” he yells down.
“It has your name, I would assume so,” his mum yells back, and okay, he gets the point. He gets up from his desk and goes downstairs to see a large box in the doorway.
“You’re sure it’s for me, mum? I haven’t ordered anything recently,” he says.
“Well, it says your name on it,” his mum states, stepping to the side so he can inspect the box. Tommy does, looking over at the box, and furrows his eyebrows.
“Why the hell does the box say that it was shipped from Jack Manifold?” he asks out loud. He looks over to his mum, but she seems to have disappeared- he can hear her in the kitchen. He rolls his eyes fondly and takes a closer look at the box. Did Jack send him stuff to film a new video? He shrugs and carries the box up to his room- it’ll be easier that way.
After maneuvering it up to his room, he grabs a box cutter from his shelf and opens it up. There aren’t any items at the top of the box, bubble wrap covering it all. The only thing at the top is a note. He picks it up to read it.
“Hey child,” he reads out loud, “We got a couple things for you that made us think about you. Also, the hoodie better fit you, because I’m not getting you a new one.” He frowns. “A hoodie?” he voices to himself, before taking the bubble wrap off of the box.
In it are several miscellaneous goodies, with a box split off into three sections, each set with a different vibe. One section has a sticky note on it that says “from Niki”, the other note says “from Jack”, and the last one is labled “from Fundy.”
Making a quick decision, he digs through the pale pink tissue paper covering up Niki’s section, hands finding a package of biscuits. They seem to be freshly baked, and he lights up. When he opens up the bag, they smell fresh, and he’s taken back to when Niki handed out the biscuits that she made for them all when they had met up for a vlog. He absolutely loved them- reminiscing on when he informed Niki of that as well. He recalls how her face had lit up with a soft, delighted smile at the praise— she must have remembered him saying that— and he smiles.
The other item in the package is a minecraft cow plushie, with a little bamboo tag tied around the neck, naming the plushie “Henry”. He smiles even wider. He had talked about getting a cow plushie once with Niki, mentioning that it was strange that he didn’t have any Minecraft plushies. Niki had suggested getting a Minecraft cow plush and naming it Henry, but honestly, he had forgotten about that.
He sits in stunned silence for a moment. Niki remembered . Niki remembered the things that he talked about, the things that he told her.
That’s honestly a lot to take in at the moment.
He decides to move on to pull away the light orange tissue paper covering up Fundy’s side, and finds a large, rolled up paper, and a small USB, along with a note, telling him to listen to the contents later. He moves on to the paper, rolling it open, to find a Lovejoy poster.
He gasps, eyes wide. “No way,” he whispers out loud. A small sticky note is in the corner, and he reads it out loud. “I know Wilbur said he would make you a poster,” he reads, “but I beat him to it. Tell him I said L.” He laughs, and puts the USB to the side- he wants to see what Jack got him first, and then he’ll look at whatever’s on that flash drive.
He pulls off the light blue tissue paper of Jack’s side to reveal a Manifold hoodie and some papers. Ignoring the papers, he goes straight to the merch, pulling it on over his head. It fits perfectly, and it’s so soft. It feels like a hug, and it’s unbelievably warm. He snuggles into it unconsciously, before grabbing the papers that he had discarded in favor of focusing on the hoodie.
Picking them up, he frowns. They’re pre-purchased train tickets for two. He looks at the other ticket, and his eyes widen slightly. They’re tickets to a petting zoo. He had talked to Jack once, off camera, about wanting to go to a petting zoo for a vlog at some point. He loves animals, and thought it would be a fun thing to do. As much as he calls animals ugly, he loves them, and had info dumped on Jack for a while about them, he recalls, embarrassed.
Apparently, Jack had remembered that. The evidence was right there in front of him. He sits there for a moment in stunned silence before remembering the USB that Fundy had gifted him. He quickly grabs the flash drive, plugging it in. “I swear to god,” he mumbles, “if this gives me a fucking virus, I’m going to kill him.”
He opens up the file on the USB, to see it filled with audio files. He leans back in his chair. “No way. Seriously?” he mutters, opening up a file.
It’s piano arrangements of his streaming music. Not only that, but there’s also other songs that he’s mentioned loving- Lovejoy, the Up Soundtrack, and more. He laughs, almost not believing it.
He wasn’t complaining at all, but what the fuck was going on?
+3
The strange behavior doesn’t end there.
Look, Tommy could excuse the strange behavior with Ranboo and Tubbo. Those two? They were basically his best fucking friends. He could honestly say that he loved them.
Jack, Niki, and Fundy sending him shit? Okay, Fundy was a bit weird, but maybe Niki and Jack were already planning on sending him things, and he didn’t want to feel left out? For all Tommy knew, they could have sent shit to loads of people. Yeah, that probably was it. There was no reason to assume this was only a thing to happen to him. And even if it was just him, was that really an out of character thing for them to do? Okay, Jack and Fundy, maybe, but he could absolutely see Niki talking them both into doing that. That could easily be explained away.
Dream acting strange though? That was a lot different.
Tommy wouldn’t really describe Dream as a friend, he supposes? They’re work buddies, or the closest that a seventeen year old British Minecraft Youtuber and a twenty one year old famous American Minecraft speedrunner can get. They get along great on camera, but off camera, most of their conversation is limited to things relating to the SMP or Youtube. They aren’t super close off camera, not like how Tommy is with his other friends.
So Tommy really doesn’t understand why Dream was inviting him to a new server.
At first, he assumes that it’s related to a video. He’s ready to tell Dream that he doesn't have the ability to join another SMP at the moment, before another message comes in from Dream that this is a completely offline server, where he, Sapnap, George, Karl, and Quackity just goof off.
What the fuck?
Why is Dream inviting him to a server meant for just him and his friends?
He asks him that, and receives a reply almost immediately, reading it out loud, “you’re all our friend, and we thought that you would be a good addition to the server- what the fuck?” He blinks.
He has a lot of work he needs to get done- he needs to send his editor the clips he chose from.
The server remains there in the back of his mind as he works.
+4
“Oh, fuck you , Big Q!” Tommy shouts, but he’s laughing. The server was honestly a better distraction than he thought it would be. He finds himself spending his free time on it, doing calls with whoever happens to be on the server at the same time.
It’s cathartic, in a way, to be able to joke around with friends he normally doesn’t without the pressure of a camera or having to reach a quota for funny bits. Just him and his friends, being themselves without any worries.
“Come on, Tommy, don’t be like that! It’s not my fault that I happened to punch you into a ravine completely intentionally!”
“Oh, is that how it fucking-” Tommy starts, a big grin on his face, until he sees a DM from Wilbur. “Hold on, I got a DM from Wilbur, I’ll be right back,” he says.
“Oh, I see how it is. Tommyinnit will just choose Wilbur over everyone, huh?” Quackity teases, but yeah, fair, Tommy kind of will choose Wilbur over everyone.
He reads the message, squints, then reads it again. “Uh, Quackity, Wilbur says that he’s outside of my house? What the fuck?”
“Oh, that was today?” Quackity exclaims, then curses. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that. Bye Tommy, hope you have fun!” he says, then immediately exits the call, going offline.
“What the fuck?” Tommy exclaims out loud, about ready to pull up his messages with Quackity to ask him what the fuck that was all about , but is interrupted by more messagesfrom Wilbur. He stands up with a huff and goes downstairs, opening up the door to reveal Wilbur.
“Jesus, Tommy, took you long enough- are you wearing sweatpants ? No, go back upstairs and change into something more respectable. I’ll be waiting in the car,” Wilbur says, before closing the front door himself.
What the actual fuck?
Tommy thinks he might be having a stroke, because literally nothing that was happening today was making sense.
Left with little choice but to go change, he quickly throws on jeans and a T-shirt, and heads over to his mum’s room.
“Uh, mum?” he says. “Wilbur’s here, and he wants to take me somewhere? Is that okay?”
“Oh, yes, he mentioned that a little while back. I hope you have fun!” his mum says, a broad smile on her face.
“What the hell do you mean he mentioned that! This is my first time hearing about it!”
“Oh,” his mom says, realization dawning on her eyes. “Ignore me, you’ll find out soon enough. Bye, honey! I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“What the- what the fuck! Why are you all- you know what, forget it. I’ll find out soon enough,” he says with a huff, stomping downstairs, out the door, and into Wilbur’s car, slamming the door closed.
“Come on Toms, aren’t you excited?” Wilbur says, backing up out of the driveway.
“Yeah, sure Wil. It’s real easy to get excited about something that you won’t even fuckin’ tell me about!”
Wilbur tsks. “Come on Tommy, are you saying that the mere prospect of spending time with me isn’t worth your while? I’m hurt, honestly. I really am.”
Tommy rolls his eyes. “Dramatic dick,” he mutters, and Wilbur laughs, so then Tommy laughs too.
The rest of the car ride is spent in relative silence, just enjoying the presence of the other. At some point, Tommy dozes off, only to be awoken by Wilbur shaking his shoulder. “Huh?” he mutters, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes. “Shit, I’m up, I’m awake.”
Wilbur coos in that annoying voice of his. “Aweee, Toms, you fell asleep for the whole ride?”
“Shut the fuck up. Fuck you. …Hey, where are we anyways?” he asks, taking in the sights. They’re in a parking lot, and he can see flags and- is that a ferris wheel in the background?
“We’re at the local fair, but that’s not the main thing we’re here for. Come out and I’ll show you,” Wilbur says with a smirk, unbuckling and opening up his car door. Tommy scoffs but does the same. He’s kind of given up any hope of this being a normal day, with how cryptic Wilbur has been all day.
They walk along the parking lot, until Wilbur spots something. “Oh, there they are!” he says, breaking off into a sprint. Tommy blinks, looking ahead to see where he’s running, to spot Philza Minecraft himself standing with another man- a fan, most likely. He runs over, ready to offer a picture, if that’s what he would like, until- Wilbur hugs him?
Okay, Tommy really doesn’t think this is standard protocol for a fan. Someone Wilbur knows, maybe?
He walks up awkwardly. “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Tommy, I’m guessing you’re one of Wilbur’s friends?” He holds out his hand. Phil and Wilbur both make a face like they’re both trying not to crack up, and the man in question wrinkles his nose.
“I mean, I guess you could say that?” the man says hesitantly. His voice sounds familiar, and ew , an American accent.
“Oi, you kinda sound like Technoblade, but without the flavor,” he says under his breath, and Phil and Wilbur just lose it. The man sighs.
“Bruh, you guys really didn’t tell him?” he says, and something clicks into place into Tommy’s head.
“No,” he says, horrified.
“Yes,” Wilbur says back, laughing in his face.
“I hate all of you,” Tommy grumbles. Wilbur laughs again. “Who else fuckin’ knew?! My mom knew, Quackity knew, did you tell everyone except me?!”
“In his defense,” Techno drawls, “it was pretty funny.”
“Oh, I don’t wanna hear anything from you,” Tommy bites, pointing his finger towards Techno. “Why do you fuckin’ look like that! If you looked like a damn normal person, I would have been able to tell it was you, but nooooooooooo, I’m Techno and I have to look like the most average person in the world!” he mocks. “Your fuckin’ voice too, man! Why the fuck is your mic so fucking bad? Why do you sound like this,” he waves towards Techno’s general direction, “without it!”
“Mate, I think you need to calm down,” Philza laughs, leaning back with a smile when Tommy’s finger gets dangerously close to his face.
“Oh, I don’t wanna hear any shit from you, old man!” he starts, getting cut off by all of their laughing. “You’re all the fuckin’ worst.”
They walk around the fairgrounds, Tommy still pouting behind them. Finally, fed up with Tommy’s antics, Phil sighs and turns around. “Alright, that’s enough mate. What do I have to do for you to cheer you up?”
Tommy frowns, looking up at their surroundings, before spotting something. He points towards a booth at a blobfish plushie. “I want that.”
Phil sighs, silently praying to whatever god is up there to grant Tommy a bit of sense. Tommy sees right through Philza Minecraft, he knows what he is doing. “Mate, first of all, that thing is fucking ugly, and second of all, that’s an obviously rigged game.”
“Now now,” Wilbur says, stepping between them, “Philza, you did ask what he needed to cheer up, and frankly, that plushie is a beauty. In fact, I think we need it right this moment.”
Phil glares at Wilbur. “You’re not helping. Techno, back me up here.”
Techno shrugs. “I mean, you did ask him.”
“Is no one on my side here?!”
“No,” all three say simultaneously. Phil groans, but heads towards the booth anyways.
Tommy cheers as Phil hands him the blobfish plushie.
The operator running the station holds his head in his hands. “What the fuck,” he mutters. “How did you do that? The bottle lids barely fit around the rings. What the fuck .”
Tommy knows the answer. It’s obviously because Philza Minecraft is the only man, ever.
“Phiiiiiiiil,” Tommy says, pulling on Phil’s arm. “Phiiiil, win us a fish, come on, we’ll take such good care of it.”
“Are you- is that fish plushie not enough for you? You need an actual fucking fish now too?”
“Come on Phil! Win us a fiiiiiish!” Wilbur continues, grabbing onto Phil’s other arm. “Phil, I have never needed anything more than I have needed this fish right now.”
Phil shakes them both off of his arms, groaning. “I can’t believe you two. Fuckin’ gremlins, the lot of you.”
Techno rests his arms on Phil’s head. “Come on, Phil, win us a fish.”
“I am not winning any of you a fish! None of you are responsible enough to take care of yourselves, you’d kill a fish on the first day of having one!”
“I feel like this place is actively working against me,” Techno says after he ran into his fifth see-through wall.
“Please, you’re just absolute shit at it,” Tommy says, and promptly walks into a wall.
“Ohhhh, Tommy, you’re just absolute shit at this!” Wilbur mocks, shoving past Tommy to make it to the staircase first, and running into a wall. Techno and Tommy both point to laugh at him, and through another wall, they all see Phil make it to the staircase.
“You gotta go the other way!” he says, making his way up the stairs. The three look at each other and immediately push each other to the side to make it up to the top.
Once they get up there, they see mirrors like the funhouse mirrors. Tommy laughs. “Finally, a mirror that’s fuckin’ accurate! I knew I was taller than you bitches!”
The other three look each other in the eyes and nod.
“Hey, don’t you fuckin’ hit me- hey!”
“I want to go on that one,” Tommy says, pointing towards the Zero Gravity ride.
Techno shakes his head. “Tommy, I think that you will die if we go on that ride.”
Tommy glares at Techno. “It doesn’t even look that bad! All you do is fuckin’ stand there while it spins, that’s not nearly as bad as the fuckin’ Smiler.”
“Come on, Techno, just let him!” Wilbur says, throwing his arm over Tommy’s shoulder.
Tommy looks over to Phil, who shakes his head. “There is no way in hell that you’re getting me on that fuckin’ ride.”
Tommy shrugs. “Your loss, then.”
“God, I fuckin’ wish I was with Phil right now!” Tommy screams.
He clutches onto Wilbur’s hand, screaming as they spin around, his head feeling like it’s going to pop. He tries to push his hand outwards, but the force of the gravity keeping him pinned onto the chair also makes it difficult for him to keep it held up. “Techno!” he shouts. “You should try holding your hands out! The gravity is so fuckin’ weird!”
He looks over at Techno, to see him holding on the bars, absolutely white knuckled, a blank gaze in his eyes, looking like a man who has just gazed death in the eyes.
After 5 minutes of the feeling that his head was going to pop, the ride finally ends, and the three stumble off of the ride.
Phil laughs. “Techno, are you okay? You look like you’re about to die.”
“I gotta sit down,” he mumbles, and Tommy wholeheartedly agrees. “Tommy,” he groans. “If I had known that this was the type of shit we’d have to go through. I wouldn’t have come.” He says it lightheartedly though, and Tommy knows that he’s joking. “Like, come on, you guys know that the only reason I'm here is because the family stuff gets me so many views, but I don’t think physical torture is worth that.”
Wilbur scoffs, “Techno, there are literally no cameras on right now. You can't pull that shit with us.” And that’s right, there aren’t any cameras, are there? This isn’t for a vlog or anything, it’s just them hanging out.
Huh.
This is probably something to think about when he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out any second.
“Are you three just going to sit here for the rest of the day?” Philza asks.
Techno doesn’t dignify that with a response, laying his head down on the table. “Philza Minecraft, just because you are smart and did not go on the ride doesn’t mean that the rest of us are. Now let me die in peace and go get us some food.”
Tommy perks up. “Food?” he asks. “I want one of those huge turkey legs. The big ones.”
“No. I’m not getting you guys food. You guys can get it yourselves.”
Tommy looks at Phil with puppy dog eyes. “Please Phil? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
He groans. “Fine, whatever. I swear, I feel like a parent to three toddlers.”
“Well, this toddler wants a corn dog,” Techno drawls.
“A burger for me, please,” Wilbur says.
Phil groans, but he can’t be that frustrated, because he goes anyway.
They end up sticking at that table for about an hour and a half. The zero-gravity ride ended up triggering a migraine for Wilbur, but he was luckily able to get meds so when it came in full force, it wasn’t too bad.
They decide to end the night on the ferris wheel, much to Techno’s dismay.
“Oh, could it possibly be that The Blade is afraid of ferris wheels?” Tommy teases, and Techno stiffens, and oh. No fucking way.
“Come on, Techno, it’ll be so fun! Pleeeeease?” he says, giving the puppy dog eyes again, and Techno sighs.
“Fine. Whatever.” Tommy cheers and runs up ahead, and Techno waits for Phil and Wilbur to catch up. “Is he always that hard to say no to?”
Phil and Wilbur both nod. “He knows exactly how much power he has, and is an absolute menace with it.” Wilbur says.
On the ferris wheel, Tommy cheers when he sees the fair lighting up the dark night, and while Techno’s tense, he has a smile on his face the whole time.
+5
They head immediately back to Wilbur’s after the fair, saying their goodbyes to both Techno and Phil. The ride home is silent, but it’s a comfortable silence, only broken by the sound of the radio and the sounds of the car.
Wilbur parks his car, and together, they walk into the apartment. Tommy can’t shake the nagging feeling though- why is everyone being so nice to him? It’s not just Wilbur, it’s all of his friends, they’ve been spending more time with him than they ever had spent with him. Tommy didn’t understand why .
“Would you like anything to dri-”
“Wilbur,” Tommy cuts him off, “Why the fuck are you being so nice to me?”
Wilbur’s face dropped, and Tommy could feel the tears gathering in his eyes. He looked down and furiously wiped his eyes to get rid of them. “I just…” he says, sucking in a shallow breath, “I don’t get it! You’re all spending time with me, but it’s off camera, what do you guys even gain from that? Aren’t I a useless friend if I’m not helping you guys get more content? Why would you even bother to stay friends with me if I’m not giving you that?” he chokes out, lump in his throat.
“Hey, hey , sweetheart, it’s okay,” Wilbur said, quickly stepping over towards Tommy and pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay,” he whispers into his hair. “It’s all okay.”
Tommy whines quietly into Wilbur’s shoulder. “I just,” he says, tears and snot getting on Wilbur’s sweater, “I just don’t get it!” he cries out.
Tommy hears Wilbur take a deep breath, then says, “Tommy, do you remember a couple weeks ago? When we did an overnight call, and you couldn’t remember what happened that night?”
Tommy furrows his eyebrows but hums his confirmation into Wilbur’s shoulder. “Well,” Wilbur says, guilt obvious in his tone of voice. “I told you nothing happened, but the truth is, you did actually talk about something.” He takes a breath, preparing himself before he continues, saying, “You told me about how you wanted to take a break, but you didn’t feel like you could, because you were worried that we wouldn’t prioritize your friendship if it was exclusively off screen. All I did was tell everyone that. Everything that they did? They did on their own, because they care about you. Tommy, we care about you. On and off camera. I promise.”
Tommy clutches onto Wilbur’s sweater and bites his lip, attempting to keep the tears at bay. Wilbur shushes him, kissing the top of his head and holding him close before navigating them both to the couch.
Tommy sits there, pressing himself as close as he can towards Wilbur until he calms down and his sobs slow. He gives a big sigh and presses his head against Wilbur’s shoulder. “Do you feel any better?” he asks. At some point he must have pulled out his phone, and Tommy sees that he’s just absentmindedly scrolling through some sort of site. He nods, yawning, and oh , Tommy really doesn’t like the smirk that Wilbur gives.
“Oh, Nutmeg, you’ve had such a long day, wouldn’t it be nice to rest?” Tommy’s eyes widen and he tries to hide the blush that comes over his face, but by the ecstatic look on Wilbur’s face as he looks up from his phone, he fails miserably.
“Oh, Cinnamon, do you like that?” Tommy hates that he blushes over that, and he hides his face in his hands. “Oh, Pepper, don’t you hide your face from me! You can’t pretend that you aren’t blushing, Paprika, I see right through you.” Tommy blinks. Hold on a second, he can see a trend going on here.
“Hold on a second, bitch!” he says, his face still red from his blush, his ears tinted bright red. “You're just calling me spice names, Wilbur! Are you just getting these off the top of your fuckin' head?” Wilbur makes a strange face, almost like he's trying to suppress a laugh, and Tommy leans over to see what he's looking at on his phone.
“Oi, what the hell is this! Are you just looking at a website for spice names? What the fuck?” Tommy says, snatching the phone out of Wilbur's hands, ignoring his shouts about how Tommy will get his grummy fingerprints all over the screen. “What the fuck is this website? Classic Ranch Yogurt Dressing Bolthouse Farms 2 Tablespoon Bottle?” Wilbur pinches his lips together in an attempt not to laugh, but fails miserably and lets out a snort at that. “I'm serious man, what the fuck is this website?”
“What, so you don't want to be my Classic Ranch Yogurt Dressing Bolthouse Farms 2 Tablespoon Bottle? I'm hurt Tommy, really, I am. I thought we were friends, brothers almost, and you reject the nicknames that I thoughtfully picked for you.”
“ Thoughtfully picked? This is a fuckin' spice website, Wilbur!”
“Yeah, and I'm picking them thoughtfully , child. Don’t you know the difference, Bean?” Wilbur says, putting down his phone so he can fully turn towards Tommy.
“Bean?” Tommy exclaims incredulously. “What the fuck does that even stand for? You’re on a vegetable kick now like a wrongun, then? What’s next, tomato?” he asks, then pauses. “Wait no, don’t answer that one.” It’s too late though- Tommy can tell. Wilbur is already smirking at him, and Tommy regrets everything.
“Tomato works perfectly, with how red you are, after all. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” To his own dismay, Tommy goes completely red again at sweetheart, which causes Wilbur to laugh even harder than he had before. “You’re just proving me right, Bean!”
“Oh, fuck off! You didn’t even tell me why you chose that fuckin’ one, bitch!”
“Simple. Bean pole.” He laughs at the face that Tommy makes.
“What?! You’re fuckin’ taller than- oh, that’s it,” Tommy states, grabbling a pillow on the cushion next to him and throwing it at his face. Wilbur makes a shocked sound, but quickly retaliates with a pillow of his own. Before long, it has turned into a full fledged pillow fight. They throw loose pillows, cushions, whatever they can find at each other, until Wilbur notices how Tommy’s eyes are beginning to droop.
“Oh, darling,” Wilbur says in an almost sickly sweet voice, “Don’t you think it’s about time we go to bed? I’m sure you’re very, very tired.”
Tommy lets his guard down for a moment at the nickname, before wielding himself with a pillow again. “Oi, dick! I’m not going to be fooled! This is just- a ploy! A ploy to win the pillow fight! Well, I’ll be damned if I let you win, bitch,” Tommy says, his words already noticeably slurring together.
Wilbur puts his hands up, dropping the pillow and walking towards him. “Come on, sweetheart, doesn’t sleep sound so nice? We can figure out what to tell your fans, and then I’ll sing you to sleep? Wouldn’t that be nice, buttercup?” Tommy’s face turns red again at the pet names, but he also gives Wilbur a sleepy smile, which Wilbur reciprocates.
“I guess that does sound nice,” Tommy admits, dropping the pillow he was wielding. They sit next to the couch again, and on Wilbur’s phone, they draft a short message as an announcement to his fans about how he'll be taking a short break.
During that, Tommy starts to doze off onto Wilbur’s shoulder. Wilbur gives him a soft smile, and picks him up to carry him into his room, where Wilbur gives him the bed, insisting that he'll sleep on the couch. Tommy, too tired to argue, takes the bed with minimal complaints.
Tommy snuggles up into the sheets as Wilbur plays the guitar for him, pulling the blanket up over him. Wilbur’s guitar sounds so much different when the mic isn't slightly distorting it- clearer, in a way. He tells him so, and Wilbur laughs and shushes him, telling him to rest.
As he lays there, listening to Wilbur strum on his guitar, he thinks about the conversation he had with Tubbo and Ranboo when they came over, up on the school roof. If his childhood self would be proud of him.
He thinks he’s ready to ask himself that, now. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll call Tubbo and Ranboo, and they can finally have that conversation that he shut down. He’ll tell them exactly what he’s been afraid of saying, and they’ll comfort him, and together with Wilbur, Phil, and Techno, they can figure out a plan for how long he’ll take a break for.
But that’s for tomorrow Tommy. Tonight, he falls asleep to the sounds of Wilbur strumming chords and humming along, and for the first time in weeks, he rests easy.