Type: Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Tommyinnit, Wilbur
Words: 2000

Summary:

He’d ask his mom if he could just quickly tweet something funny about him being grounded but really, isn’t a break from Tommy what everyone wants? Even his own fans used to find him annoying. Maybe everyone’s happy he’s gone.

So he doesn’t ask.

Also on my ao3/tumblr: c4pricornc4ts (requests open! no ocs, nsfw, I will consider x readers)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tommy is tilting his head back in one of the uncomfortable leather seats outside the principal's office yet again this semester. He’s holding an already very bloody tissue up to his nose and swinging his legs while waiting for his mom to be interrupted in the middle of work yet again to come and take him home.

He really tried not to get in another fight after how mad his mom was last time, but there were these asshole upperclassmen who just really deserved it for how often they bullied Tubbo.

He knew his mom would be livid, and he was completely right. He eyes her warily as she steps in the office and starts switching between apologizing profusely to the principal and lecturing him. The principal just hands her a paper to sign and tells them both very seriously that if he gets in one more fight he’s expelled.

Tommy’s up getting another tissue when she all but drags him out the office door by his coat.

“It’s really not that big of a deal!” He whines as she checks him over, before letting him get in the car.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel and sighs, gripping it tightly. “Not a big deal? Tom you can’t just get in fights with people! You heard your principal, one more and you’re out.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just let them be assholes?” He snapped at her, though he sounded less angry and more nasally from the tissue blocking his nose.

“Go tell a goddamn teacher! I’m starting to think you like getting your nose broken.”

“They don’t do shit!”

His mom turns to him, he looks away. “Your grades are dropping, you’ve been in a total of three fights just this semester and now you’re snapping at me? What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m sorry mom.” He mumbles. He does feel kind of bad about it all. But mostly he just wants the  conversation to end.

“You’ve really left me no choice here you know.” She takes his phone out of his backpack. “No phone for a week, and no streaming either. I’m unplugging the wifi. TommyInnit needs to do some self reflection.”

“Oh come on now, a whole week? It’s just a bloody nose it’s not like anybody died!” This was completely unfair. Streaming was his job, and how on earth will his friends know where he went?

“You’ll thank me when you’re not repeating sophomore year.” She starts the car, focusing on the road now. Tommy makes no move to speak to her again not wanting to make anything worse.

After he’s caught up on his school work it’s almost 8pm. He goes to sit in front of his computer, excited to just hang out with whoever was online and deflates in his seat when all he can do is play that stupid no internet dinosaur game.

Even though it’s a stupid game he still plays it for at least an hour before giving up and just getting ready for bed. At least he had school tomorrow to keep him distracted.

School goes by quickly, he complains to his friends about being grounded and over exaggerates the fight he was in and all his teachers give him looks when they see his bruised face but smile when he turns it in on time.

He opens his front door and starts to head upstairs, preparing to stream before just leaning against the wall and sighing when he remembers his punishment. He has no homework though so really what was he supposed to do?

Blue eyes look at the cookie mix left on the counter and Tommy makes a plan. He changes out of his school uniform and makes sure to give his mom a pointed look before running back to the kitchen.

He reads the back of the box, leaning against the counter; 2 eggs, ½ cup of water, and ⅓ cup of olive oil. It sounds easy enough. The only trouble he has is trying to crack the eggs without getting any shells in the bowl. He thinks about when he met up with his friends and how Wilbur and Phil made it a competition to see which of the two could crack an egg with one hand the cleanest.

Tommy stares at the unmixed bowl, his hands covered in baking ingredients, wondering if any of his online friends missed him. They always seem relieved he’s not around when they stream and Tommy tries to remember they’re talking about his character, but it hurts. There’s only so many times he can hear his pseudo family call him annoying and a problem before it starts to feel more personal.

It hurt, he always played it off so well on stream but after streams where they were particularly rude to him he always just felt drained.

He’d ask his mom if he could just quickly tweet something funny about him being grounded but really, isn’t a break from Tommy what everyone wants? Even his own fans used to find him annoying. Maybe everyone’s happy he’s gone.

So he doesn’t ask.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to finish his baking project. He really just wants to lie down and sleep for the week. But he does, though it feels a lot less exciting than it did at first.

He takes the cookies out of the oven with his bare hands yelling about how that’s his least favorite part before turning around and coming face to face with his very confused mom holding an oven mitt.

He runs his hands under some cold water and takes a few cookies up to his room, leaving the rest out. He closes the door and plays some minecraft in single player for a while, walking into the house he and Tubbo had built together when his friend had visited.

Tubbo doesn’t hate him, he liked Tubbo.

It’s only his fourth day of no internet and Tommy is incredibly bored. He had done just about everything he could think of to do. He feels bad for kids who grew up like this because honestly, how did they do it?

He supposes it’s different when you don’t rely on the internet for your job, or if you just never knew it was a thing. If he was born before the internet maybe he would write that book he always wanted to write.

Tommy is staring at a book on knitting and fumbling around the two needles, trying to make his weekend at least somewhat productive. The tv in the living room is turned down and Tommy curls up on the end of the couch with a roll of green yarn.

He begins to get the hang of the whole knitting thing after three very messy rows when his mom messes up his hair, causing him to look up with a glare.

“We’re going out, don’t you try to get on anything or it’ll be two weeks!”

“I have ascended past the need for electronics, as you can see.” He laughs and keeps trying to tie off the fourth row.

The door clicks shut and Tommy tosses the yarn aside and sits up. Sighing hard enough to blow his hair out of his face before flopping back down on the couch dramatically.

He throws an arm over his eyes and resolves to just lie down for a bit, not bothering to even fix the knitting book which had landed open on the floor next to him.

He just let’s the colors flickering from the tv wash over him for a while when the doorbell rings. He ignores it, as his parents didn’t tell him anyone would be coming by. Hoping it was just the mail.

The person at the door starts knocking after a few moments, so Tommy begrudgingly gets up to answer.

He really wasn’t expecting Wilbur to be standing in his front yard, checking his phone. He looked troubled, as if he was worrying it was the wrong house or something. Tommy takes a deep breath and goes to find out what Wilbur wanted.

“Tommy! Where’ve you been? Everyone’s been so worried I decided to make a trip here.” Wilbur just let’s himself in, walking right past Tommy and into the kitchen.
“Oh, just busy with school y’know?” He knows it’s a weak excuse, but it’s worth a shot.

“Too busy to just send a message to someone?” Of course that didn’t work on Wilbur. Philza or Tubbo would’ve accepted that excuse in a heartbeat. But not Wilbur.

“I thought no one would care. It’s only a week.” He opens the fridge, trying to act nonchalant about the situation.

“Only a week? Tommy, you usually text us everyday! Of course we’re gonna notice.”

“Notice? Yes. Care? No.” He mumbles bitterly. Freezing up right after, hand still on the fridge handle.

“Of course we care! Wha- Why would you think we didn’t-” Tommy feels a bit bad, Wilbur sounds genuinely hurt by it. But Tommy wasn’t done.

“You all always talk about how annoying I am, for-fucking-give me for giving you and everyone else a break.” He turns towards the older, and tries to stop his eyes from watering. Trying to tell himself he’s mad, not upset.

“It’s all jokes Tommy, you know we don’t actually feel that way about you.” Wilbur pushes off the counter and takes a tentative step towards Tommy. Who makes sure Wilbur notices him step back.

“What’s so funny about it? I go from school where everyone seems to hate me just to talk to more people who act like they hate me. And I’m really, really tired of it.” He falters by the end of the statement, realizing that maybe he is more than just mad.

He knows he’s crying, his shoulders shake and his face feels hot as he looks anywhere but at Wilbur’s face. Was it so bad of him to just want people in his corner for once? Is he really such an annoyance that someone had to drive all the way to his house because he didn’t just find a way to contact any of them?

“Oh, Tommy.” Wilbur murmurs, his voice sounds soft. And Tommy leans into his shoulder for support. He should probably just sit down, but he really just wants some comfort right now. Even if the one who made him so upset is the one he gets it from.

Wilbur pulls him in, enveloping him in an actual hug. And Tommy can’t deny it does make him feel a bit better.

“I’m being ridiculous, I'm sorry. I-I know you guys don’t mean it. It just- It hurts.” He’s crying again, and he really hopes Wilbur doesn’t make him stop hiding his face.

“You’re not being ridiculous, we should’ve looked out for you better. I just assumed you were okay with it, but I never even asked you. I’m the one who’s sorry. So you take your sorry back.”

“Sorry for being sorry.” He jokes softly, laughing about it too.

Wilbur holds him for a bit longer, and he tries to wipe his face before stepping back.

“I’ll talk to Techno and Philza if that’s okay. I never want you to feel like I wouldn’t care if you left, I’m sure they wouldn’t want you too either.”

“That’s- thanks, Wilbur.”

Wilbur claps his hands together excitedly. “Now, tell me what TommyInnit does when there’s no internet to waste his time on.”

“Wilbur you won’t believe it but I got to the point of boredom where you learn to knit. To knit, Wilbur!” He’s dragging Wilbur by the arm into the living room to show him the barely finished hat he’d started. And laughing when Wilbur fusses at him for leaving the book sprawled on the floor like it was. The moment earlier was completely forgotten.

And if Wilbur made a tweet that night, well he’d delete it before Tommy got his phone back so really, no one gets hurt here.

Wilbur Soot (@WilburSoot)
Tommy’s grounded and won’t have his phone for the next few days, quick comment nice paragraphs under his latest tweet to confuse him haha, the best prank I think.