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“this is how this is gonna work, alright? listen—”
tommy leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head and a curious look on his face. this is his hardest mod video yet, and he's absolutely terrified.
“how about a try not to smile challenge?” dream suggests gently, and an audible smile in his voice can be heard.
“oh, dream!” wilbur gasps. “that's a great idea, man.”
“and — and like, the goal is all of us versus tommy, kay? it starts with just me and you but we're allowed to invite other people into the call if we want to.”
wilbur grins at his camera, cheeks tinted a soft, sunset pink. his eyes are still glossy and melted from his heart-to-heart with tommy.
tommy looks absolutely horrified.
“what. the fuck.” he blinks. “what the hell is wrong with you all? if i can't survive the try not to laugh what makes you think i can counter against smiling?”
“aw, sweetheart, i thought you weren't soft.” dream’s poking his side. they haven't even started the video and tommy can't handle it. “we love you, kiddo, and you love us! it’ll be so fun to mess with you like that!”
the aim of the game is to make tommy smile. every five times tommy smiles is one life in the game, and he gets three lives, which means if he smiles fifteen times he's out. dream and wilbur are his main opponents, and those two are completely allowed to do whatever they want to make tommy crack a smile.
after tommy’s recent invasion of thoughts that his friends didn't care about him, dream and wilbur took it upon themselves to make him feel loved. it's their job, as tommy’s best friends, to make the kid feel loved and appreciated after so many self-deprecating bits aimed towards tommy. after they've realized they hurt, that every time wilbur cracks a shut up or when dream says god, he's finally gone actually stings, they were mortified with their actions.
dream begged tommy to tell him to shut the fuck up if he comes on too hard, and wilbur told him to please, please let him know if a bit is too much.
and — now, they're here, and tommy wants to commit many, many war crimes.
--
“die.”
“tommy, sweetheart—”
“ wil!”
they're laughing. tommy is here, blushing to the moon and back, and they're laughing. tommy clicks his keys so he's running closer to a village, and the others follow behind him.
(it's also a stark contrast to being called child majority of the time on stream or in a recording. he's always called degrading and rude names on purpose for the bit that's been carried on for months, but not anymore. not ever since dream and wilbur found out it started to hurt.
in this recording, they've been calling him all sorts of pet names on camera on purpose. like ‘sunshine’ and ‘sweetheart' and ‘darling' but tommy doesn't feel embarrassed. he feels, if anything, loved. he adores being called names like that, but he's taking that secret to his damn grave.)
wilbur’s cackling in his ears, before calming down. “toms, c’mere, follow me.”
he sighs. “wil—”
“no, no! i promise it's nothing bad, just follow.”
tommy crouches, before he bounds after wilbur whose gliding since he has access to creative mode. he stops underneath a tree, and tommy pauses next to him. dream lingers nearby, listening quietly in the call.
“okay, listen, tommy. i know, usually, that this line is a bit and that i always reply with the same response but i have to tell you this—”
tommy understands immediately, and he goes warm and fuzzy on the inside. he’s going to lose a whole damn life in the next thirty seconds if wilbur doesn't shut up. he despises it when someone brings up wilbur’s brother jokes, he hates it when people say wilbur himself is joking even if wilbur has specified he truly does think so. maybe not in detail, but he has told tommy he looks at the teenager like a true baby brother. it's affectionate and makes the tips of tommy’s ears turn red.
tommy loves to fluster wilbur himself by telling him how much he tells chat he looks at wilbur like an older brother. he loves doing it, it always makes wilbur giggle like a hyena and blush as red as a freshly bloomed rose. it makes tommy feel warm and bubbly in the pit of his stomach. wilbur laughing at his jokes makes tommy happy, and if the man was ever upset with him...tommy feels sick at the thought.
“don't joke about that.” as always, it’s a sensitive topic for tommy, to bring up wilbur’s relationship with him in a joking manner.
“no, no, i’m serious. like, we say we’re brothers as an ongoing bit and shit but really. you are like my little brother, you know? you're adorable behind the cameras and you're an absolute sweetheart, and i fuckin’ love you. just, you are one of the kindest, smartest, funniest people i know, and i can’t believe i have someone like you. you're loud, sure, but you're never, ever annoying. never will be. you can’t. it's impossible. i’ll always love to have you around, toms.”
tommy cannot do this today. he cannot — he’s going to keel right over his desk and die before the video ends. he’s never had to deal with this many compliments within a span of thirty seconds. no one ever tells tommy they love him in videos, on stream. never. hearing it from wilbur just makes tommy want to crumble into pieces of a freshly baked cookie. his insides go warm like the burning coals of a brick oven. the tip of his nose flushes maroon.
he lets go of his mouse, and his face is definitely beet red. the skin is warm as he presses his palms against his cheeks, smothering himself and blocking his face from view.
“oh, oh !” dream’s giggling. “give us a smile, tommy, you're blushing. that's adorable.”
wilbur’s own cheeks are red at the admission, but you can tell he has absolutely no regrets since it was at tommy’s expense. “c’mon sunshine, smile for us.”
tommy shakes his head at his camera, moving his hands off his face to clamp around his mouth. his eyes are practically radiating fondness, a smidge of embarrassment sprinkled in. his voice is honey-sweet and dripping with sugar when he speaks. “aw, wilbur, why are you doing this to me?”
wilbur and dream both aww horribly loud into their mics at the sight, and even if tommy can't see dream he just knows the man is also grinning. wilbur’s own hands are on his own cheeks, mouth open in a sense that he can’t believe how cute tommy looks in a childish sort of way.
tommy lets a smile out so he can get it over with, and both of them cheer. tommy begins to build a furnace, placing a crafting table directly next to it.
wilbur leans back in his chair, fingers pressing together. “i’m gonna add schlatt to this call.”
tommy’s eyes widen in a panic, and he makes direct eye contact with his camera lens. “ no. absolutely fuckin’ not.”
“i’ll add george and phil!” dream’s voice is chipper and sincere. “george is, like, your soft spot. phil’s just a legit dad.”
tommy speaks before he realizes what he's saying. “no,” he mutters under his breath. “wil’s my soft spot.”
wilbur gasps, eyes going as wide as donuts. dream outright coos into the microphone. “ tommy!”
“what? you're my best friend, george is dream’s.”
the older man still goes soft and melty, and tommy wonders if this is the challenge to just warm everyone’s hearts.
a ping is heard in the call, and tommy sucks in a breath and he glances at who joined.
“hey, guys. what's fuckin’ happening?”
before tommy opens his mouth, wilbur’s response echoes in his head. “hey, schlatt! we’re recording a video — i already told you what it was — would you like to join us?”
schlatt completely ignores wilbur and his attention is right on tommy. schlatt’s camera turns on as two more pings sound for phil and george.
“i’ve gotta be honest, tommy,” oh no, “you aren't as bad as people say you are. like, sure, you're a child and act like one sometimes, but you’re much kinder than what people give you credit for. you're my friend, too — yes, you're my friend — and that already makes you really cool. i even watch your videos sometimes, and to be i honest, it’s really heartwarming you used to watch my own videos as well. oh, tommy, don’t cover your face, that's a bitch move,”
tommy moves his head out of frame because the hugest grin is taking up the span of his face. “i give up. i am never recording a fucking video ever again.”
“i hear a smile!”
“ shut up.”
there goes another tick of his first life. three more damn smiles and he’s already one life down.
“he's right, mate,” phil. “you're one of my best friends as well, and i love you, and you're really, really genuine. you act high and mighty but you're really just clingy and affectionate. and, you are like a son to me, truly.”
another smile.
the amount of awe's sounding in this call is just simply astronomical.
tommy leans up, accepting his inevitable loss of a smile, and his smile is kind, sweet. “thank you, mate.”
tommy tends to do that. whenever he speaks to phil, who always says mate, tommy tends to copy him. similar to that of a small boy copying his father. he flushes pink at the thought.
“wilbur?” george asks, “have you already given him a speech?”
“oh, yes, but i plan to give many more.” wilbur grins mischievously. “dream told me i’m the one who manages to get tommy to smile the most.”
“well, yeah,” schlatt huffs, leaning his cheek on his fist. “he's the favorite.”
“he is!” phil laughs, “tommy adores the man.”
okay, whatever bit the idiots in this stupid call have started, tommy hates it. “i hate wilbur. die. all of you.”
“you love me,” wilbur sighs, “you love me so, so much.”
“i am not doing this in front of everyone.”
“you're adorable. i’ll keep saying that over and over again, you're adorable.”
“i never realized how wholesome you two are when you actually show it instead of dancing around each other for the bit,” george says suddenly, genuinely surprised. “it's quiet endearing.”
“because me telling wilbur to die is wholesome. damn you.” tommy is deadpan, and his gaze is staring into george’s soul. “die.”
“yeah, yeah, love you too,” george grins, but his expression softens. oh, oh no. that's — that's a bad sign. “ by the way, i know i don't say this much but you are one of my good friends, tommy. i do enjoy your company no matter how much i poke fun at you. you're absolutely lovely —”
there's a slam on the other side of the call, and the participants in said call glance up to see tommy has slammed his forehead onto his desktop. wilbur and schlatt bark out a laugh, and phil cackles along with them. dream wheezes, “he's smiling! george, he's smiling!”
“this is going to be the shortest mod video ever.” tommy sighs, bringing his head up and tuning out the cheers at seeing him grin. “fuck this shit, die, all of you, die. i’m going to the nether.”
wilbur cracks a smile himself and after tommy loses a few more hearts to dream, george, schlatt, phil, and wilbur alone for just simply making him laugh, tommy loses a full life. the three extras leave the call after a bit, bidding their goodbyes with extra complements coated in sugar that make tommy flush down to his damn collarbone.
dream invites tubbo to the call.
now, tubbo knew what they were doing and was initially invited to help make him smile, but tubbo had planned . he had a plan to make tommy smile easy as pie and had declined the offer to help as a main candidate. when tubbo’s icon appeared in the chat, all he did was go in the most sincere and gentle voice ever, “hey tommy, i love you.”
and left the call. just like that.
wilbur blinks, dream goes silent, and tommy recoils — not in a bad way, just pulling away from his keyboard — and everyone's quiet for a few moments. before tommy beams and wilbur coos and dream goes, “you cannot see me, but i’m smiling so wide right now.”
“fuck this.” tommy complains with the biggest smile ever plastered across his face. “i hate it here, wilbur die, dream die, tubbo fuck you. die. fuck. shit. i hate ranboo, women, fuck. i hate everyone. die.”
“and ladies and gents and everyone in between, that's tommyinnit summed up in one paragraph,” wilbur happily chirps. “ fuck, i hate ranboo, women, die.”
another ping sounds in the call, and tommy swallows apprehensively. there is literally no one worse. there is no one worse than tubbo and wilbur and schlatt and dream and —
“ayyyy tommy! how's it goin’ man! i heard you were doing a video and wilbur explained it to me and i wanted —”
fuck this shit.
fuck this shit.
“big q!” wilbur greets loudly, and dream chimes in his own greeting.
“oh god,” tommy groans, “anyone but big q. literally anyone.”
if anything, quackity's only here because he's happy he can compliment tommy without getting his vocal cords ripped out. or without mentally getting his head torn away from his neck.
“hey, i know you love me,” quackity smirks at his camera, “but you don't need to heighten my ego even more.”
quackity is one of tommy’s closest friends. fuck dream or fuck wilbur for inviting someone who’ll make tommy lose a whole goddamn life within a span of five minutes — no, three minutes. quackity could make him laugh within seconds. it wouldn't take long whatsoever for him to just be soft and tommy’ll blush and get flustered within moments.
“alright, tommy, lets make this short and sweet.”
“big q, do not do this to me.”
“you're one of my best friends, right? i think you're fuckin’ awesome. your personality is freakishly close to mine. you're outspoken, your whole character is funny as hell, and that's what i love about you. you're not afraid to speak your mind, you're an amazing actor, and you're — you're one of my best friends. you're also not annoying, i know i say that but it's a bit, as always. please, please tell me if i’m being rude as shit, because i’ll shut the fuck up right then and there. i just really needed to say that to you. also, bam. there goes a tick because i see that grin, tommy. you're not slick.”
tommy laughs wetly, and his eyes feel teary; he needs to check in the mirror if they're red-rimmed, or if his cheeks are blotchy. he wouldn't ever live it down if alex quackity made him cry because of how sweet he was to him. “thanks, big q.” he saids weakly.
“i love you, too.” he adds kindly, and he flushes as quackity beams happily. “aww, tommy!”
later, when wilbur is rubbing it in, he goes, “quackity made you smile within seconds. faster than dream or even myself, and i took like five seconds — he took three.”
“you counted?”
as tommy is scrounging through the nether, dream’s green shitass character comes up right behind tommy with bedrock in hand. tommy pales. “what the fuck.”
“sorry, tommy. wil’s orders.” dream begins surrounding him in bedrock, and tommy is unable to escape or continue his game.
“what did he want?” tommy asks, almost afraid.
“you'll see,” his reply is smug and cheeky.
he can hear clattering in the background of wil’s microphone and he sees that wilbur’s not even at his setup. he's gone, but he can hear him rummaging around. when he returns, he's holding a guitar. tommy faintly remembers saying he'd never stream ever again if wilbur wrote a song for him to make him smile.
wilbur sets up the guitar around him, handling it correctly, fingers set on the right strings. “alright, tommy, you ready?”
wilbur opens his mouth, beginning to sing a song directed towards tommy. tommy’s eyes go wide as plates, meeting wil’s gaze, and the corners of tommy’s lips perk up.
tommy’s first reaction is to aww but he can't do that, so his second reaction is to escape. after suffering through a few more seconds of wilbur’s calming, soothing singing voice in his ears tommy spams the leave call button. he knows they saw him smile, he knows the video will only be like ten minutes long, but that's not gonna stop him from posting it.
when he joins the call again, wilbur and dream are both poking fun at him, giggling at how flustered tommy got when wilbur started to sing to him. tommy huffs, but replies, “it was so sweet and wholesome and lovely of wilbur it was fuckin’ sickening. i had to get out of there as fast as possible.”
he tries to pretend he just insulted wilbur instead of making the man’s heart go soft.
okay. so what? he smiled fifteen times — even more than that — within a span of ten minutes because he's soft for his friends. he'd usually never do anything like that because tommy’s picked up a persona that doesn't do soft and mushy. tommy’s sappy behind the camera, sure, but never after he hits record. it's something new today.
wilbur and tommy are in a call together after twitter explodes at tommy’s new video. it gets on trending as TOMMY’S NEW MOD VIDEO. everyone seems to say they were all shot directly in the heart with how soft the entire thing was.
not that tommy’s going to admit it to wilbur or one of his other friends, but he definitely watches the video whenever a kid from school picks on him. he just pulls up the video on the walk home from college and ends up having a grin splitting his face when he steps inside his house.
“anyways,” tommy groans. “you guys ruined my brand. my poor, poor reputation.”
wilbur clicks his tongue disapprovingly, as if tommy is completely and utterly wrong.
“you were always known for being a sweetheart,” wilbur smiles at him through the screen, “everyone knows that.” the man’s smile falters and his eyes blink at tommy tiredly. “i wish i could hug you.”
“me too,” tommy murmurs. “miss you, to be honest.”
“you always miss me,” he laughs softly. “and i always miss you.”
“it's missing wilbur hours.” tommy quotes.
“no, no, it's missing tommy hours.”
“i’m always missing me.” tommy smirks confidently. “i am my own comfort streamer, i comfort myself. it's not sapnap or phil. it's you — me.”
wilbur blinks in shock. “did you just say i’m your comfort streamer.”
“no.”
“you did!”
“ shut up!”
tommy doesn't regret filming the video. he may say he does, but he doesn't. not for the world, because he got so much confirmation of love from every one of his friends. techno texted a few words after that left him almost in tears, and ranboo himself stuck tommy in a call and complimented him until tommy smiled.
he doesn't regret filming the video. not for the world.