Work Text:
His project is ruined.
Like, really ruined, he's not even being dramatic about it. The script for his oral report- which was almost three pages long and needed to be turned in after the presentation- were breaking all apart right in front of him in the water. Literally a whole five hours worth of work- on top of all his other class assignments and YouTube shit- just completely down the drain.
"Oh," the guy in front of him coos, all sickly sweet and grating, "is widdle tommy gonna cry?"
"You dick," Tommy says, trying for snappish, but it comes out wrecked. He was genuinely excited to present this project. Not only did he work hard on it and need the grade, but he also ventured out to ask Wilbur's help. Which was way less nerve wracking than Tommy thought it would be- the man was lovely, having been kind enough to put time into helping Tommy research even though that's nothing close to what he signed up for when becoming Tommy's friend.
(Tommy still remembers the way Wilbur waved off his concerns and threw himself into the research like it was fun for him. He sent Tommy article after article of what he read up on in his spare time, and then sat in a call with him while Tommy worked on formatting and making a good bibliography. Tommy can still vividly picture Wilbur's excited gestures and hear the melodic fluctuation of his voice as he explained everything he found out. It was nice, listening to Wilbur. Even after the project was complete, Tommy sat with his knees pulled close to his chest and a blanket around his shoulders, just listening to Wilbur talk.)
The assignment wasn't just an assignment- it was a labor of love. A collaborative effort. Definitive proof that Tommy's friendship was much more than just an obligation to Wilbur.
Tommy really fucking wanted to bring back an A to show him, sort of like, look at what we did together, look at who I can be when I have you‐ but now, with the script completely soaked and on it's way to disintegration, that was impossible.
"Aw he really is gonna cry," the guy laughs, all sharp and curled, and the other dude, his friend, laughs too. "Don't fucking cry- now all you have to do is give up a couple of streams to redo this shit. Honestly, it'd be an improvement for the rest of the internet to not have to hear your annoying yapping again."
Tommy clenches his jaw, gnashing his teeth together. He's not going to cry. He won't give these fuckers the satisfaction. "Fucking- just let me by. You already destroyed my shit. Just let me go to class."
The second dude snickers like he's got no brain cells in his head. "Yeah, yeah, we should let you go to class. Let you explain to Johnson why you've got no work but three streams up. It'd be a mercy to stop you from going now."
Even with saying that, they still don't move, forcing Tommy to push in between them and reach down to get his ruined project. He picks it up, wincing at the way the rainwater drips and the paper folds and tears. Their laughs echo in his head as he lets himself in the building.
.
Unfortunately, they were right. Explaining to Johnson, a teacher who knows good and well about Tommy's online fame and upload schedule, why his project isn't finished on time is hell.
It gets easier after Tommy shows the remains of what used to be- now just a soggy ball of printer paper and running ink- but there's a pit of shame that builds in Tommy's gut at the way Johnson sighs. He's annoyed, Tommy's brain unhelpfully provides. He's annoyed and tired because of you.
"The best I can do," Johnson offers, pushing his glasses up his nose, "is give you a two day extension. These grades have to be in within the next week before finals, so after that it will be a zero."
Tommy nods frantically, shame and guilt painting his cheeks red. "Of course, and I'm sorry again for-" he waves a hand at the balled up project on his teacher's desk.
Johnson nods, gives Tommy a dismissive look. "Next time try to be more careful. Things like this are important. You have to see them in the same light that you do as your online work."
Tommy ducks his head, thoroughly embarrassed. "Of course, I- I will."
.
He gets home from school and not for the first time, feels ill.
Those fuckers successfully managed to tank Tommy's entire mood and give him more work so he has to put his streaming on the back burner for a little bit. He's going to have to call Wilbur and Quackity, who he's been planning lore with, and tell them that he'll need a couple of days before they can stream. It makes him feel terrible, and his traitorous brain doesn't help- going, if you drop streaming for even a couple of days your numbers will dip, and then after that who knows will still stick around.
(The Wilbur that stays in the back of Tommy's head goes: you're catastrophizing sweetheart, that would never happen. But Tommy is too keyed up to listen and believe it.)
He gets up to his room and pulls out a notepad, quickly jotting down the things he remembers from his script. When he can’t write anymore, he flips a page and tries to schedule out the next couple of days, breaking it into sections for editing, filming, the work he has to do, and the possible space he can carve for streaming and uploading a vod. He scribbles out a timetable then crosses it out, draws out a timeline and then tears it in two. He groans, dropping the pen and tugging at his hair. There’s no way around it, he’s going to have to not stream for a bit.
He'll let Wilbur down two times over in the span of a few hours.
The thought makes Tommy's throat seize up. He's practically immobile. According to the abandoned, rumpled up agendas scattered around his desk, he has a lot that he should start doing if he's to get things done. But he can't, unable to make himself move.
He just needs something to calm him down. He needs something to get his mind screwed on right.
Tommy fumbles for his phone and earbuds, opening YouTube and turning to his own channel. He tries not to make a habit of rewatching his own videos, because he ends up being overly critical and zaps the fun out of what should be good memories with his closest friends, but one video is the exception to that.
Only a couple of weeks ago, he filmed a video where his friends had to make him smile- not with bits or mod effects, but with compliments and loving remarks. It was, admittedly, needed. He had been spiraling, tripping over his own tongue to keep from being seen as annoying or loud, shuttling himself away to make other people happier. Wilbur pulled him up and out and gathered all their friends together to prove him wrong. He couldn't swallow his slight embarrassment at having made such a big deal out of what should have been nothing; but Tommy remembers Dream calling him after they finished filming and saying, call me whenever you need this again- as I'm sure Wilbur would tell you, we all need to be reminded that we're loved from time to time. He opens the video and tries to focus on his friend's voices through all the general loudness of his head and panic freezing his chest.
(Wilbur made it his mission through the whole recording- which was one of the longest yet because even after Tommy had lost all his lives, his friends still wanted to compliment him- to try and find as many pet names as he could. It started small, with just Toms, something that Tommy's mother or Phil called him from time to time, before escalating to sunshine and sweetheart and darling. Tommy remembers Wilbur settling on love- just love- and it nearly cost Tommy three smiles in a row. He would go, hey love, I'm adding Schlatt to the call or oh come on love, smile, and Tommy would turn bright red and need to frantically think about hurricanes or Minecraft cows dying in order to stamp down on his grin.)
(Wilbur, a man of his word, added Schlatt to the call and Tommy briefly forgot the premise of the video, falling into their running bit of Tommy being starry-eyed and Schlatt being dismissive. So when Schlatt cleared his throat and started speaking, Tommy was floored. He spent a good three minutes praising Tommy's work ethic and creativity in content and his explosive growth that was all due to his personality, and don't you ever fucking forget it kid. It was surreal in itself, but then Schlatt went: "you're an inspiration Tommy, and not just to the kids watching you, but to the content creators around you. I'm not gonna say it again, so get your fucking clip, but I look up to you and I'm excited to see where you go from here." Tommy had groaned loud enough for his audio to spike and given up a huge smile.)
(When Tubbo entered the call, all he did was tell Tommy that he loved him and that was enough. It was said the way that Tubbo said everything: like it was beyond a single doubt. I love you, just like that. Tubbo, for his lack of physical affection, never had a problem giving away compliments and sounding like he meant them. So of course Tommy followed his lead, his own voice dropping down to something soft and honest- I love you too Tubbo . A smile well worth it.)
(Ranboo joined the call nine minutes in and Tommy didn't expect much- he spends half his time basically insulting Ranboo on streams and it is all a joke, but still. Tommy knows what jokes can do. Extensively. He expects maybe some comedic relief (because he is a master of twisting his own awkward air to be funny) or some visual gags because Ranboo loves making terrible puns, but Tommy nearly spins on his head when Ranboo goes, "Hey Tommy. I'm-uh- I'm going to be heartfelt for a moment so plug your ears because I know you don't like that sort of thing." He paused for a beat, clearly waiting for Tommy to cover his ears for the bit, then he continued. "I know the joke is that you don't like me and it's good because it works, but you should know that you're one of my best friends. You were one of my first friends on the server and that meant- and still means a lot to me. I'm- and this is when it gets really sappy, so brace yourself- but I'm really glad that we met at all, because you're part of the reason I feel so comfortable with everything involving the DSMP. Okay, I'm done now, you can stop covering your ears." Tommy had smacked his forehead down on his desk and said, "I am not tearing up because of words from some American. I just fucking won't."
He did.)
(Dream then chased him around for a while, eventually trapping him in bedrock and forcing him to sit still and listen as Wilbur shuffled over the call. Tommy was confused and wary, and then he heard the familiar sounds of Wilbur turning a guitar and his heart had stopped. "I'm gonna sing something for you Toms," He said, strumming a bit, "something I wrote for you." Tommy had started to protest, but then Wilbur ignored him and actually started singing and Tommy had to listen. there's a hand, there's a heart, there's your smile in my mind
when we're together, we fall perfectly in line
ever seen a family walk down the pier?
ever seen a loved one tuck hair behind another's ear?
ever find a brother through a bright screen?
to me, that's what you mean
He hardly got through the first verse before smacking the leave call button and standing to do laps around his bedroom.)
For comedic value, the video ends when Tommy leaves the call, but in reality it went on for much longer- Jack and Niki joining and duoing him, pretending to try to take him down with compliments instead of kooky cartoonish plots like their characters- Tommy still remembers holding back giggles at their kill him with kindness! kill him with kindness - and then Sam joining and praising his jokes so enthusiastically it made Tommy blush to his roots, and then Dream making them all leave the call so he could tell Tommy just how integral Tommy's character's been to the SMP and the hype surrounding them all. It was almost too much to sit through. But Tommy was glad he did, and that he'd been recording because it was almost two hours of content stored on his hard drive for any rainy days in the future.
He feels better after watching it, and after going back and rewinding to his favorite parts- specifically Tubbo's I love you, which he secretly melts over long after it’s been played. He’s just closing Youtube when he gets a text message from Wilbur.
wilbur soot: how was your presentation? :)
All of a sudden all that shame and self doubt he’s slowly been edging away comes back full force in a flare, putting him right back where he started ten minutes ago. Putting him right back where he was three hours ago when his classmates first slapped his papers out of his hands and stomped them into nothing.
Tommy doesn't answer- can't answer- and instead decides to peek into the server to see what's going on. It looks like Phil and Tubbo are streaming, in the proper stream specific VC together, but in a general VC sits Charlie and Quackity. He could use some of their joy right now. Just hearing their voices, even if it's to take the piss at him, would lift his spirits significantly. Or at least distract him from the turbulence in his chest.
He joins and immediately wishes that he didn't, with Quackity in the middle of explaining lore, going "-and then we'll probably do some Las Nevadas stuff: show off the build a bit- oh. Who just- Tommy. Aye, Tomas!"
"Hey big Q," Tommy says, wincing when he hears his own voice and it's lack of - much of anything really. "Hey Charlie. You guys planning lore?"
"Just a little," Charlie says.
"Should I- should I hop out? I don't wanna distract-"
"No!" Quackity is quick to interrupt. "No, man, no, stay. You're- you're always welcome. I mean, you're in it you know."
Tommy blanches. Right. he has to- fuck. "Oh, yeah, I- yeah." There's a pause and Tommy thinks, like a bandaid, like a bandaid. This is Quackity he's talking to. Big Q. He's always- he's never- "About that- I don't know if I can stream for the next couple of days 'cause of- 'cause of college."
For a second Tommy thinks that Quackity will sigh, or scoff, or regret planning lore with someone that slacks off and can't stick to their commitments. Or even worse, that he would ask Tommy to kindly leave their call under the guise that they need to work, but really he's just pissed and wouldn't stand to talk to Tommy. He can imagine Quackity telling George, who'd let tt slip to Sapnap, who tells Dream and then suddenly, he's off the SMP entirely because he can't dedicate himself to it properly. Life isn't high school, but sometimes it can be.
None of that happens. Instead Quackity just goes, "College? What's up with school? You doing alright?"
Tommy blinks. He'd been expecting- huh. Okay. "Um, yeah, I just have to redo a project and go back in to present it. I got an extension but my schedule's too packed for streaming."
"Well, you gotta do what you gotta do," Charlie speaks up. "School is very important and I'm sure that streaming while doing it is crazy stressful."
"Yeah, don't worry about it Tommy," Quackity reassures. "And don't forget to take care of yourself. Your mental health comes first before all of this, yeah?"
Tommy breathes out heavily, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "Yeah, I was- oh, I thought you'd be upset with me," he laughs a little, all high pitched and stressed, and Quackity makes a confused noise. "Yeah, I don't know, it was stupid. I mean, it's not like I was fucking slacking on my work, it was done and I was going to present, but then they- you know. So- heh- so I just have to redo it. S'not that big of a deal. What they were saying must've got into my head I guess."
He ends his little tirade with another panicked laugh, but no one laughs with him.
"Sorry Tommy," Charlie says, sounding strained, " why did you have to redo an assignment that you had already completely finished?"
"Yeah, and what the hell are you talking about- whatever they were saying? What got into your head?" Quackity questions, turning on his camera and raising a stern eyebrow. Charlie follows suit, clicking his camera on, and Tommy realizes that it's serious talk time. He winces, shrinking away from his PC.
"It's- it was nothing," he says. "Just some guys at school."
"And they ruined your assignment?" Charlie asks, disbelief coloring his tone. "what- well did they get in trouble for it?"
Tommy ducks his head. "Um, no, I didn't mention it when I talked to my teacher."
"Why not? I'm sure the teacher would've done something about it. I mean, maybe they wouldn't have been able to bring your project back but bashing those kids could make them regret messing with you anymore."
"Well," Tommy shrugs even though they can't see him, "he seemed annoyed and I didn't want-" he huffs a heavy sigh, "I know I can be a lot to deal with sometimes. And he already does a lot for me in class with everything. I just- I don't know."
"Tommy, no," Charlie starts, but Quackity cuts him off, voice tight like he's angry or upset.
"Is that what these kids at your school told you? That you're a lot to deal with? Mierda , Tommy, they're fucking idiots. They're- they have no clue what they're talking about." Quackity leans forward towards the camera. "You're not too much or annoying because you're asking for help and telling someone you're being treated like shit- you-" he stops short and then looks over to another screen. "You know what, give me a second."
Tommy frowns. "What are you doing?"
The sound of typing comes in over the mic and a small grin cracks over Charlie's otherwise worried face. "He's plotting."
"He's doing crime as we speak." Tommy jokes weakly.
Tommy's discord notifications go off and he moves to the text channel to see what Quackity typed. a message sits there in general: @everyone who isn't streaming or otherwise occupied, please come to vc 1 and tell tommyinnit how much you love him asap
"Quackity!" Tommy exclaims, shocked and embarrassed. "You-"
"Oh yes," Charlie grins, the traitor , "the perfect crime."
"There," Quackity says, satisfied. In no time there will be people joining the VC and- oh look at that, all those messages rolling in."
Tommy looks back at the chat and groans, putting his face in his hands.
Ranboo: about to change my entire stream title to loving Tommy hours give me a sec
sapnap: dont fucking start w/o me I'm getting to my pc
eret: loving tommy hours while I'm streaming? really? during pride month?
dream: hold up hold up
dream: are we all going live and telling ppl how cool Tommy is?
The voice chat pings and before Tommy even looks he knows who it is. This is ridiculous- Tubbo is in the middle of a stream.
"Tommy you're my best-est friend and I swear to god if your brain doesn't stop being mean to you I'll hit you." Tubbo huffs.
"Good start tu-bo," Quackity grins, "threaten the boy with bodily harm."
"I'll beat the self love into you." Tubbo promises. "No one will talk about my best friend like that."
"Clingy," Tommy retorts, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. "Aren't you streaming?"
"Maybe so, you'll never know."
"I'm looking at your status right now."
"Your eyes are faulty. You should get them fixed up." He hears something shift on Tubbo's end. "I'm on mute and I've got a waiting screen up- I've told them technical emergencies. You're more important."
Tommy snorts, pretending that he isn't pink. "Okay, bee boy, go back to streaming, I'm alright."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"Swear on primes."
"I swear on primes."
Tubbo hums, disbelieving. "Okay, but I'll be back in forty five minutes. If your spirits aren't sufficiently lifted by then, then I'm destroying the SMP with weapons of mass destruction."
Quackity and Charlie choke but Tommy just scoffs. "Ranboo would stop you."
"Ranboo would help me."
"Wh- no-" Tommy splutters. "Just- just go stream."
"Okay," Tubbo concedes. "But before I go- I love you Tommy."
It's like a shot of serotonin directly to the heart. Tommy, despite himself, gets so warm inside that he thinks it might be malfunctioning. The hard drive of his brain is overheating and making him all melty and shit. Disgusting. Horrible.
"I love you too Tubbo," Tommy responds dutifully and then Tubbo leaves the call. "Okay, glad we're done with that." There's a silence. "We are done with that right? Right?"
"Hold on," Charlie says, typing at his keyboard. Apprehension grows in Tommy's gut. "Dream is still waiting for an answer."
"Oh don't answer him," Tommy whines and Quackity laughs.
"We don't want to be rude Tommy, we don't want to be rude."
charlie slimecicle: yes, go live and we'll all follow your lead dream
charlie slimecicle: tommy deserves it
jack manifold: vouch
captain puffy: vouch
ranboo: vouch
eret: vouch
"Charlie! You simply did not have to do that! You're in the voice call with me, why are you even-"
"Why am I starting a movement?" Charlie asks haughtily, "because I have a worthy cause!" His voice dips from playful to sincere, "you, Tommyinnit, deserve to know that people care about you. That a lot of people care about you. And not just for what you bring to streams and content- for you."
Quackity makes a vague noise of approval.
"Charli e," Tommy groans, all warm and embarrassed. "I can't- I can't even tell you to fuck off and die you're too... Charlie-like. It would be wrong."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
The call pings again and Sapnap immediately goes, "okay, I'm fucking here- jesus. Since last time you guys wanted to film a whole video without me, I'm going to take my fucking time here."
"Oh please don't," Tommy complains. He doesn't think he can stand to have Sapnap compliment him- they're solid in their relationships of lighthearted teasing. They aren’t outwardly affectionate and that works for them- that’s normal for them. He doesn't know if he could handle a bundle of serious Sapnap all at once like this.
"Ah, ah, Tommy, this isn't about you, it's about me, so be quiet and let me compliment you." Tommy blinks, amusement making his lips twitch upwards and the embarrassment heavy in his gut dissolve slightly. "Alright, alright, look- this is the greatest compliment that I could give: you are a million times funnier than Dream."
Tommy lets out a quiet breath, relieved for some reason, and then his funny brain clicks on. "Someone clip that! Oh my god, I need that saved on my phone."
They laugh and Tommy feels pride bloom in his chest, all heavy and sweet. Honestly, they don't have to sit in a call and compliment him- just the simple act of them laughing at his joke, enjoying his little comments, settle him more than anything.
It's like a non-verbal reminder: how could they find him annoying when they enjoy what he has to say?
"No, no, but- no, seriously," Sapnap sobers. "You are crazy talented- as in, un-fucking-real levels of power- and your passion pushes all the people around you to work harder. Your work ethic is more than admirable, but I hope you know that you deserve to relax every once in a while- because I know how the internet can severely fuck with your sense of worth."
"Thank you," Tommy coughs, choked up. That means- wow. That means a lot. Thank you." Sapnap hums like he's satisfied, and just to fuck with him, Tommy goes, "Though I really can't believe I was just complimented by someone named Sapnap."
"Yeah well, get used to it." Sapnap says, unfazed. "It'll happen again."
Tommy tilts his head. "Don't you mean don't get used to it? What you said implies you're going to do it again."
"I said what I said." And then Sapnap left the call.
Tommy's phone buzzes with a notification and he checks it, flushing red when he sees it. Dream's actually gone live on Twitch- which he hardly ever does- and his stream title is-
"Why we love Tommyinnit, with George and Karl," Quackity reads aloud. "Hm, pretty fucking good if I must say."
"Dream never disappoints." Charlie laughs. "I'm sure people will be joining that stream as soon as they get a chance."
"They've got powerpoints," Tommy whispers, both awed and horrified. They're badly made and covered in comic sans, but still. "How do they have powerpoints?"
"Doesn't everyone have a list of reasons why they love you on hand at all times?" Quackity asks and the worst thing is, Tommy can't fucking tell if that is a joke or not.
"You guys suck."
"Open Ranboo's stream Tommy," Charlie exclaims, excited. "You're gonna absolutely hate it."
Tommy does, switching away from where Dream, George and Karl are all talking over each other to Ranboo's stream which is titled loving Tommy hours ft. tubbo and philza. The three of them are on the server, just watching as Phil enchants items for lore later in the week.
"He doesn't like to hear it, but a lot of the bits he lets happen at his expense are so important." Phil is saying. "Tommy'll take like, seven blows to his own pride for content. It's pretty fucking pog."
"Mm, mhm," Ranboo goes, "he is very willing to make fun of himself or his brand. I'm glad we've stopped all the jokes at his expense, but he was willing to let them keep happening and that's admirable."
Tommy sinks down in his chair and throws his arms over his head. He's all mushy, like a warm marshmallow and it's because of Ranboo of all people. Stupid, nice, caring Ranboo.
"Yeah, but now our new bit is being nice to him!" Tubbo cheers, spinning his minecraft character around in circles.
"Is that really called a bit then?" Ranboo questions. "It's really just giving compliments I think. Yeah. It's just giving Tommy compliments."
"It's not a bit if we mean it," Phil says. "Anyone who doesn't love Tommy gets the boot- I'm not fucking around."
"Philza Minecraft might kill a man," Quackity laughs over their call. "Just for you Tommy. How about that?"
"Oh, Philza Minecraft can do no wrong," Tommy sighs fondly, "even when he's being like this."
"What? Being nice to you?" Charlie asks.
"Yes."
"You deserve it," Quackity says, like it's the most simple thing in the universe. And maybe it is. If these incredible people can love him and think of him fondly without fail, then maybe he can as well.
"Thank you Quackity. Thank you Charlie." He whispers, closing Ranboo's stream. "I- I believe you."
.
After everything- after Tubbo ends stream and calls back to check on him, after Phil reminds Tommy that you can call me anytime for anything, you'll never be a bother, after Tommy watches Niki and Jack join Dream's stream with their own little powerpoints, after Sam texts him furiously with praise and Puffy gushes about him to her chat- Wilbur rings him.
Tommy feels a lot better, and has been slowly reworking his way through the project outline as he switches though the streams. He's emailed his teacher at Charlie's behest and gotten some water and fruit with prompting from Eret. He's just picking at his blueberries- which actually are making him feel better, so thanks Eret- when the call comes though.
Tommy winces, but takes a moment before he spirals to breathe and really think about Wilbur. How he'd react, the things that he'd say. He wouldn't be mad. He wouldn't even be annoyed. He'd be worried and exasperated and pissed at those kids, but that's it.
Wilbur's always treated Tommy like he was worth something, even when he felt like he wasn't. He thinks about the way that you are is the only way I want you and I love you Toms and there's nothing about you that I would change.
He answers. "Hey Wilbur."
"Hey Tommy," Wilbur says, and he sounds casual enough but Tommy knows to tune into the tone under his words. "You all right?"
"I'm better now," Tommy admits.
"But earlier you weren't." Wilbur says. It's not a question. Tommy shakes his head and even though Wilbur can't see it, his mic must pick up the sound because Wilbur makes a sympathetic sound. "What happened? Rough day at school?"
"Yeah," Tommy picks up his pen to doodle absently on the corner of his page. "You know the project that we did together? The one with all those fucking resources and shit?"
"I do."
"Yeah well, these kids at school stomped it into the dirt."
Wilbur goes quiet, the sound of him fiddling with his cube abruptly stopping. "They- they messed with your project ?"
"Destroyed it, actually." Tommy corrects, trying for nonchalance. "Guess they thought it'd be funny if I failed or something. So now I gotta redo the whole thing and I've got two days till grades are submitted." He pauses, licks his lips. "I'm- I'm going to miss the lore stream and I know you worked hard on it, so I'm really sorry."
"Don't apologize Toms," Wilbur says and it sounds so natural coming off his tongue that Tommy feels almost stupid for worrying so much before. "It's okay. School comes first. Your mental health comes first. How are you feeling? Like, really- not any it's nothing bullshit. You know you can tell me if it's all bothering you."
Tommy is quiet for a moment, biting his lip. "I- yeah, I'm a little upset about it. I was excited, you know? And not just 'cause it was good, but because we- well, we worked on it together. And that was, I don't know, fucking pog or whatever. I just- I was really hoping to get an A and send you a picture 'cause you sat there with me and put up with all that when you probably had other shit to do."
Wilbur doesn't respond for a moment, and the dead silence makes Tommy itch. He mentally goes back over his words and cringes. "It's fine," he adds, even though it really doesn't feel that way, "I mean, it was stupid anyway. I could have just-"
"Tommy," Wilbur interrupts, and suddenly the sound of his clattering keys fills Tommy's ears. "Are you at your computer?"
"Um, yeah."
"Okay, open our group chat."
Tommy follows instructions and waits. The little wilbur soot is typing bubble comes up and he stares until it stops and a text is sent through. It's a link and Tommy clicks on it without asking. It sends him to an article on the topic of his project.
"Wha- Wilbur what's this?"
"Tommy, I wasn't helping you because I felt like I had to, or because you managed to guilt me into it- I helped you because I wanted to because you're important to me." Wilbur says gently and earnestly. It's so honest and so Wilbur that Tommy has to press his hands to his eyes so he doesn't tear up all over his keyboard. "And you should never feel like you can't ask me for help because you might annoy me. You couldn't. The worst that could happen is that I'm busy and I would tell you that."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Wilbur echoes, the smile audible in his voice. "I enjoyed helping you research. What you're learning is interesting and- well, it's easy for me to care about it because I care about you. Things that are important to you are important to me."
"Oh," Tommy goes again, lighter now, in every way.
Their discord pings with three more links- additional resources that Tommy doesn't remember looking at before.
"I did some more after you went to sleep." Wilbur admits in explanation. "I wasn't kidding when I said it was interesting. And you know what- hold on."
Tommy holds on, opening up the articles and skimming, jotting down quick notes and deciding which paragraphs could be useful and which ones were just cool to know. Maybe he could add a fun facts section- his teachers liked it when they took initiative on things like that. He knew that he didn't have to gain favor and prove himself, but still-
The call pings and Tommy looks up.
"Tommy," Technoblade greets.
"Tech-no-blade," Tommy says, unable to smother his grin. "What brings you here on this fine night?"
"Well," Techno sighs theatrically, "I heard that a child needed assistance, and because I'm dreadfully fond of said child, I had to offer my knowledge."
Tommy's brain goes fond? Of me? And then vocalizes like, seven exclamation marks after processing, but his mouth goes, "Not a child."
"Dickhead child," Wilbur butts in, voice so sickly affectionate that the insult bounces around warmly in Tommy's heart like a ping pong ball.
"It's alright," Tommy pushes on, his manners kicking in. "I think I've got enough now, and I don't want to take up your time-"
"I'm not doing anything more important than this." Technoblade cuts off bluntly. "And besides, I grinded for some actual book references, are you going to let my hard work go to waste?"
Tommy flushes. "No, but- I-" he falters, unable to find a reason to turn Techno away. Why shouldn't he let them help him? Why couldn't he be important to them without having to prove himself? Maybe he was just loved. Maybe that was it. Nothing more needed.
"Okay," Tommy says slowly, "pog-ject take two: the reckoning. And this will be the best damn social studies project that Johnson will have ever seen!"
.
(And it was. At least, according to the photographed A plus Tommy sent to Wilbur and Techno, (and then Charlie and Quackity) only four days later.)