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It took a week since The Clip had started circulating around the internet, many members of the Dream SMP addressing it, four days on Twitter trending and remote silence from Tommy for him to finally say something about it.
The Clip had been posted onto TikTok originally, from a shitposting account who had been there at the time. It blew up within the hour, had multiple debunking videos trying to figure out if it was photoshopped, and rapidly climbed the trending list.
It started with the person filming their shoes, with raised voices audible in the background. The camera shuddered and then panned up to show two people standing outside a cafe - one with blonde hair and one black, the latter shouting, the other trying to calm him. It looked to be dusk, with the sunset casting pink hues onto the scene.
As they crossed the road to get closer the words became audible - “sorry, but I don’t understand what you want me to-”
“I want you to fucking listen! Your content is just absolute bullshit. All that you do is annoy people and make people sympathise for you when you get what you fucking deserve.” A small crowd was gathering, faces blurred, none of them making a movie towards the pair.
The taller one, who was revealed to be TommyInnit as the lense focused, tried for a smile. “I can agree that bit has been used a lot in the last couple of years, but I can’t just dismiss it, because that’s one of the building blocks that I’ve used to- shit!”
You could see it before you could hear it - the man brought his hand back and swung, straight for Tommy’s face. The youtuber’s eyes latched onto it and widened as he made an attempt to dodge, but ended up taking a hit straight across the cheekbone. He stumbled backwards with the force and fell, staring up in shock.
The person behind the camera cursed and ran forwards, shaking the frame. Nobody was really sure what the man would’ve done if the people who had previously taken notice didn’t rush forwards immediately and restrain him.
(They couldn’t have done that a few minutes earlier?)
Apparently called from the commotion outside, an even taller man dashed out of the cafe, two keep-cups in hand. He ran to Tommy’s side and placed them on the ground, helping his friend sit up. “Tom, what-”
He twisted to glance over his shoulder, seeing the other man and quickly putting two and two together. He quickly rose and stormed towards him, a few more people restraining him before Tommy shouted at him- and he stilled. He went back to his friend and checked over him once more.
That was it. That was the entire video - Wilbur trying to fight the guy who had punched Tommy. Half of the internet thought of it as wholesome, but the rest were just fucking angry that somebody had just walked up to Tommy and started attacking him.
Basically, the whole fandom was thrown into turmoil until Tommy finally addressed it… and a long time after that.
Tommy had been on his phone, leaning against the cafe. This place was one of the few cafes that continued to have a persons limit, even after the COVID restrictions were lifted. To be completely honest, it was the first time in a long while that he’d been outside without a mask, and he was fucking thriving (despite being recognised four times).
He’d waited outside so as not to fill up the whole place, which to be fair had been a good idea at the time. (Now? Could he ever really feel safe when he was alone and outside? Holy shit, is this what women feel all the time?)
Anyhow. He’d heard someone walking up the street - more like storming, really - and had ignored it, too wrapped up in his redditing to give a shit. Until they shouted his name.
“TommyInnit!” jeered the voice.
He tried for a smile, caught off-guard. “Hi, mate.” He stepped away from the wall, wondering why he’d randomly started channelling Philza Minecraft. Maybe it was a defence mechanism. “Do you want a-”
“Your videos are dogshit.”
“Ah.” Of course. Tommy fought off the side of him that wanted to laugh, realising from past experience that it would only rile him up. He pressed a few buttons on his phone. “What in particular don’t you like?”
The man looked slightly taken aback. He’d obviously expected Tommy to respond to his insult in kind, so that he’d have a reason to attack him. “They- they’re just awful.”
“Is there anything you think I can do to improve?” Tommy flipped around the phone for a moment to show that he’d opened a notes app. “I’ll write it down; I’d be really glad to have constructive criticism.”
“You- your thumbnails. They have your stupid face in them, I don’t like it.”
Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t like that my face is in them, or-”
“No, I don’t like your face.”
“Oh.” He turned off his phone, trying for an apologetic smile. “Well, I suppose I could get plastic surgery if you really believe that I-”
The man snarled, suddenly seeming more enraged than before. Tommy took a small step back instinctively. “You don’t need to rub it in that you’re rich, we get it. You took the easy road in life, and you don’t understand suffering like the rest of us, and for some reason you’re still ahead.”
Tommy held up his hands placatingly, noticing the man’s clenched fists. That’s how his old bul- high school acquaintance had acted when he was really mad.
As he realised that this conversation had gone too far, his heart picked up speed further. He felt a small headache begin to pound against the inside of his skull and cursed mentally, hoping beyond hope that his low blood pressure could hold on for a few fucking minutes.
He attempted to console, “Look, man, I’m really sorry, but I don’t understand what you want me to-”
“I want you to fucking listen!” the person snapped, and fuck that made him panic. “Your content is just absolute bullshit. All that you do is annoy people and make everybody pity you when you get what you fucking deserve.”
Again, Tommy attempted to arrange his face into a calming smile. Despite his years of acting at school, it almost definitely didn’t work. “I can agree that the whole ‘annoying’ joke has been used a lot in the last couple of years, but I can’t just dismiss it, because that’s one of the building blocks that I’ve used to- shit!”
The man pulled back his fist and swung, an inhuman snarl on his face. For a second, Tommy had no clue what to do, his mind freezing in panic. Then his body supplied the reflex of Move, idiot, and he managed to duck to the side-
The fist caught him in the cheek and made him stumble backwards. He probably could’ve remained standing if he tried, but the deja vu of his worst experiences in high school came right back to him, and he fell stupidly onto his butt.
He was glad that there were more people around this time, who surged forwards and restrained the man.
He was not glad, however, that Wilbur came out at that exact moment. The older man dashed to Tommy’s side, placing down the reusable cups so that he could cradle his friend’s face. He saw the redness, eyes blown wide with fear and anger. “Tom, what-”
Wilbur glanced and seemed to take in the sight for the first time. Instantly putting two and two together, he stood and stormed towards the fucking bitch- ahem, the man from beforehand.
A few more people came out from the crowd and stopped him.
Ignoring his rising headache, Tommy scrambled to his feet and called out in warning, “Wilbur you fucking arse, you can’t just go around punching people on the streets! The internet would have a field day, and there’s no fucking way you’re getting cancelled on my behalf.”
Wilbur didn’t look back but did pause in struggling against the three people that were holding him back. “I have a good reason.”
Tommy scoffed. “Yes, Twitter is well-known for being reasonable. You aren’t getting cancelled because of me.” he repeated firmly, tucking his fists into a ball in a failed attempt to stop them from trembling.
Tension obvious in his posture, Wilbur hesitated. Through the fog of anger in his mind, he recognised the tremor in the blonde’s voice and forced his body to relax. Using short, clipped movements, he pulled his arms out of the people’s grasp and gave them curt nods, not bothering with any sort of apology or explanation.
He picked up the two drinks that he’d placed down on the way, glancing at the names on the lids and holding the regular chai latte out to Tommy. The adrenalin in his veins faded enough for him to say,
“Fuck, Tom, are you alright?”
Tommy wrapped one hand around the drink and rubbed the other down his face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need an ice pack or some shit, I’ve had worse.”
Wilbur clenched his jaw. “Believe it or not, that doesn’t make me feel any better.” He looked over his best friend again, some remaining fury melting from his stance as he pulled Tommy into a hug. “What a fucking arse, should I get his number or something so we can - I dunno, sue him or some shit?”
Tommy just shook his head, voice heartbreakingly quiet as he mumbled, “Can we go home?”
Softening, Wilbur kept his arm around Tommy’s shoulder and steered him away. He shot a glare at the person who tried to start a conversation and they backed off. They’d walked fifteen minutes to get to that specific cafe, and he figured Tommy didn’t want to go the distance again, so he pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Phil to pick us up, yeah?”
Tommy nodded, wrapping his arms around Wilbur’s waist. It unbalanced his walking, but he gave negative shits. “Old man hardly ever drives unless we’re forcing him to be our chauffeur,” he muttered.
Wilbur smiled. “True.” He held the phone up to his ear as they walked, hearing it ring four times before he was given a basic greeting. “Hey, Phil, can you come pick us up? We’ll be at the gas station in a minute or so.”
In their lounge room, Phil frowned, standing up. “Sure, mate. What’s going on?”
“I’ll fill you in when you get here, Tommy’s kind of shaken up.”
“Shit.” Phil’s frown deepened as he grabbed the keys, slipping his feet into the sturdy uggies they each had a pair of. “Sure, I’ll be there pretty quick.”
“Great, see you.” The call ended abruptly.
“Techno, I’m gonna go pick up the others,” Phil called over his shoulder. “Back in a few, yeah?”
“M’kay,” Techno returned. It was unusual for the two to come back early from one of their evening strolls, but it wouldn’t be the first time either of them had started complaining about their sore legs.
Honestly, if you have weak legs, don’t go on a walk. Although, that was usually when Tommy dragged Wilbur out of the house for the first time in forever, so it could be forgiven.
Lost in his musings, Techno forgot that they were being picked up until the doorbell rang.
He groaned, knowing that they would wait for him before anybody even reached for their keys, and dragged himself from his chair. His walk to the door was slow and casual, but he stopped suddenly in the lounge room when he heard jangling. They were... letting themselves in? He sped up, concerned.
Speeding up a little bit, he came into view of the front door as it opened. Wilbur had a protective arm around Tommy, Phil looked angrier than he’d ever been, and when Tommy looked up-
“Please tell me you walked into a wall or something.” Techno said, voice dead and emotionless. The calm before the storm.
Making eye contact, Tommy gave a small shake of the head, and Techno felt a flame of rage sparking up inside of him. He looked so small, curling in on himself under Wilbur’s arm - it wasn’t right.
Tommy was meant to be bright, always running and never walking, being a bit of an arse but they chose to stick with him. Besides, it was always worth it for the moments when he’d laugh, the moments when he’d smile genuinely, the moments when he’d check before giving you a hug.
Then there was the times when his maturity hit you out of nowhere, when his eyes crinkled in understanding, when a firm perseverance entered his voice. There were the times when he spoke about his hardships with a smile, when he was content with sitting next to you in silence, when he just listened to your ranting and never tried that silver lining bullshit.
There were the times when he was fragile and trembling, when the pressure got to his head, when his mind repeated the insecurities that arseholes from school once used against him.
There were the evenings when he would be vulnerable, quietly telling the stories without a hint of malice towards the people who had hurt him. When everyone would wonder how he was alive when he showed such forgiveness, and then answered their own questions with the burning protectiveness that they nurtured.
This kid had obviously been punched by someone. That just left one question: What motherfucker decided to punch his friend?
Techno recoiled slightly at the sudden bite of fury inside of him. It took him a moment to breathe deeply, unsure how he hadn’t blurted out words already. When he spoke, it was calmly, knowing that letting out his inner turmoil wouldn’t help. “Wilbur, I hope you beat that fucker up. Go sit on the couch, I’ll grab an ice pack.”
Tommy glanced up in shock, as though he’d expected a thorough grilling, but gave a small smile in appreciation. They’d quickly figured out that anger was a trigger for him when he was already on edge, whether it was directed towards him or not.
Time seemed to flash by as he entered the kitchen, and then he was sitting next to Tommy as he wrapped a tea towel around the Mr Giggles ice pack that they had for some reason. Wilbur sat with his legs up behind Tommy’s back, an arm wrapped around his shoulder possessively.
“You wanna tell me what happened, or just watch Shrek or something?” he asked carefully.
Tommy sat up reluctantly from where he was curled into Wilbur’s side, reaching out slowly and taking the offered pack. He pressed it gingerly against his cheekbone. “Not much to tell. Someone recognised me, got mad and decked me.”
Techno’s eyebrows furrowed. He’d seen a couple of fights in his time, enough that he was familiar with how they went. “Did you goad ‘em?”
With a small shrug, Tommy leant back into Wilbur, who gladly wrapped his arms around the boy. “Nah, I kind of just… talked with him. My normal strat is to talk until they’re confused and then fucking leave, but I was waiting for Wil.”
“I wish you’d let me at him,” Wilbur grumbled. “I would’ve fucking hurt that shithead.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, shifting the ice pack so that it didn’t poke out his eye. “That’s why I didn’t.”
It was a valiant attempt at their normal teasing, but the tremor in his voice was all too noticeable.
In the silence that followed his words, Phil entered from the corridor that led to their bedrooms, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Catch,” he called, knowing full well that it wouldn’t happen as he threw a small bundle at Tommy.
The youngest, of course, didn’t move in time, and it whopped him in the face before falling in his lap. He gave a shout of indignance, but very quickly recognised it as Phil’s prized comfort hoodie. He dropped the ice pack in favour of pulling the soft material over his head, unable to hold back a grin.
The merch swamped him, text on the front crackled and faded - this was an old jumper from Phil’s first merch drop ever. Tommy picked back up the ice pack, vibrating with excitement. “Fuck yeah, Philza hoodie.”
Phil rolled his eyes, lowering himself into the armchair next to the couch that the other three sat on. They settled again into silence, somehow tense and comfortable at the same time.
Tommy broke it with a sigh. “Can we watch a movie?” he asked, voice painfully quiet.
Techno looked him over once again, noticing how his fingers twisted around the hoodie string and nodding. It was wrong. Tommy shouldn’t ever be small. “Emperor's New Groove?” he suggested, aware that it was an obvious attempt to pull them away from darker topics.
After receiving a few hums of agreement and shrug in response, Techno got up and grabbed the remote to put on the movie.
His attention wasn’t on the movie but on Tommy, feeling comforted every time the boy laughed. That boiling anger from before fully ebbed away, leaving him more tired than anything.
They wouldn’t mind if he took a nap, right?
It wasn’t like it was possible for the other three to gradually nod off and for the four of them to sleep scattered around their lounge room as the television played through multiple movies and Phil got up to a buzzing phone and woke others carefully while saying softly, ‘you might wanna see this’, right?
HA, of fucking course it’s fucking possible, you fucking wanker bitch. Fuck. Shit. Wanker. Penis. Dickhead. Prick. Arsehole. Bitch. Go die in a ditch, bitch.
(That’s quite catchy, actually.)
Go die in a hole, arse...hole.
(Fuck. That one didn’t work as well.)
Go die in a well… bell?
(It’s never gonna work again is it?.)
But that’s beside the point.
Phil woke up slowly, stretching and groaning from his uncomfortable position on the armchair. He felt a continuous buzzing against his side and groaned again, fumbling around for his phone and grabbing it clumsily.
11:56, the time read.
And he had dozens upon dozens of messages.
Phil muttered a curse of surprise, quickly opening his phone. Discord was already open, so he immediately clicked on the Dream SMP server, which had been spamming him for apparently twenty minutes.
As he scrolled through, he swore again, louder. This brought the attention of Techno, who rubbed his eyes blearily. His gaze fell on the sleeping pair beside him, then on Phil’s obvious panic, and he was instantly awake.
“What- what happened?” he managed through a yawn. (Okay, maybe it wasn’t instant.)
Phil looked up at him. “Check the SMP discord. Someone filmed the thing with Tommy, yesterday.”
Noticing the urgency with which words were spoken, Techno patted around for his phone before remembering that it was on the kitchen counter, and he stood hurriedly. Shoving aside his light-headedness, he stalked out and took his phone, mumbling a curse before calling, “It’s dead.”
“C’mere, then. I’ll show you.”
As he entered the lounge room he saw Wilbur stir, throwing an arm over Tommy and trying not to disturb him and he managed to sit. He failed, and Tommy woke too.
“Fuck’s happening?” Tommy mumbled, glancing around the room in confusion. His eyes caught on the ice pack of the ground and he froze, then nodded almost unnoticeably. His attention switched to Phil.
Wilbur gently pushed Tommy off him, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What he said.”
Phil sighed. “Someone got a video of that fucker yesterday, put it up on TikTok. It’s all over the internet.”
“Oh, shit.” Wilbur hissed. Techno looked faintly queasy, planting his hands on the back of Phil’s chair to stabilise himself.
Tommy’s reaction was the most concerning. He did barely anything, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. “The whole SMP caught wind of it?” he guessed, voice monotone.
“There’s twenty-three of them in a Discord call,” Phil confirmed softly. “Do you want me to-?” he gestured at nothing, unsure exactly what he was asking.
Tommy peeled open his eyes fully for the first time. “Tell them I’ll be with ‘em in a sec,” he responded emotionlessly. “I’ll go take a shower, someone make me a pot of black tea before I have a fucking breakdown.”
Wilbur nodded. “It’ll be here when you get back, Tom.” he spoke with a smile. To his relief, it was returned weakly.
“Cheers, Wil.” It was clear he was talking about more than the tea.
There was another stretch of quiet after he left. Phil stood on shaky legs, putting a hand on Techno’s arm. “I’ll join the call on my PC, feel free to tag along.”
Techno followed like a lost dog as he left to his streaming room, booting up the computer. It took a few moments, but soon a whirring sound filled the air.
“Sounds like an airplane taking off,” Techno remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
Phil shot him a smile for the effort, settling into his chair. “Grab something to sit on, mate. We’re about to get fucking attacked.”
Minx had been the first person to see it. She was sitting alone in the morning, just vibing and going through Tiktok, when something came up on her For You page. ‘TommyInnit gets punched by an angry fan (not clickbait! I can’t believe I saw this!)’
The first thought that flew through her head was, This has gotta be bullshit. I’m calling it.
She opened it anyway, you know? Just in case. Or maybe because of the bad feeling that was building in her chest. But probably just in case, yeah?
Holy fuck. That was not just in case. She replayed the video, straining her ears to listen to the voice. It was definitely Tommy, with his voice firm, and the slightest quivers of uncertainty to those who knew him well.
The internet hadn’t heard his off-stream ‘chill mode’ enough to be able to replicate it so perfectly, and he was somehow standing up straight and hunching at the same time. There was no conceivable context in which he would’ve spoken those words with that tone outside of the scenario that the video put him in.
This had to be real.
This could not be real.
With the anxiety adding fuel to her immediate fury, Minx’s hands shook slightly as she forwarded the video to the Dream SMP server (of which she was an honorary member) with an @everyone. She entered a VC alone, head in her hands, just breathing.
It took three minutes for someone to see it, and then Jack joined the call, letting loose a wild string of curses.
“Do you know if it’s real?” Jack demanded, pulling on a hat to hide his bedhair.
“I have no fookin’ idea, that’s why I sent it to the fookin’ group!” Minx retorted, despite there being nothing to retort.
“What the fucking shitting piss bitch-” Jack swore madly.
“-you’re really not helping-” Minx hissed, fingernails digging into her palms.
“Okay, sorry.” Jack tried to breathe deeply, realising the sheer panic of the other member of the call and attempting to soothe them both. “We shouldn’t worry too much about it. We’ll talk to them when they wake up, Tommy’s normal schedule gets him up around twelve, yeah? That’s two hours. We can wait.”
“I don’t want to, though.” Minx complained, knowing full well that she was being whiny. Before their conversation could continue, there was another sound of someone joining.
“Sorry, Minx, I’d like you to explain what the fuck you just put in the chat.” Tubbo said coldly.
Minx scoffed as Tubbo’s camera loaded. “I don’t fucking know, but I’m just as upset as you, Tubbo.”
“Can confirm.” Jack’s voice was more murderous than it had ever been during lore. That obvious emotion was what calmed Tubbo down a bit, and he nodded, jaw still clenched.
“Great. So, do you know if that video’s real?”
“No clue-”
“Wish I did,” Jack explained.
“-or I might just go over there-”
Ignoring Minx, he continued calmly, “But we haven’t gotten confirmation either way. It definitely sounds like him, though.”
“-fucking rip his face off.”
“Agreed, Minx.” Tubbo grumbled, massaging his temples wearily.
There was a chime as George entered the call, and over and over again, until it was eleven and the Americans started pouring in. In a matter of hours, they sat in a call with the largest gathering of Dream SMP members since that lore stream when Techno fought everyone on the server (and won).
Award for the most notable entrance had to be Schlatt, as he joined the call with his camera on and smiled terrifyingly. You could just picture him bashing down the door to the room where the protagonists were desperately scrambling to organise their last standing. The call went silent as they realised he was there and monologued,
“I saw something very strange in the chat when I woke up this morning. I’m just wondering if someone would deign to explain to me what the fuck is going on.”
It took a lengthy pause before Charlie went over the little information they had so far.
Second place was easily Dream, who had nothing but a navy blue face mask when turning on his camera. It was the most of his face that many of them had ever seen and shocked them all into momentary quiet.
Third most notable would be Ranboo, who came very close to swearing numerous times throughout the conversation. “I just can’t believe some ar- some stupid guy would do that unprovoked.” “What a di- jerk.” “Motherffffffrrricker.”
All of it built up until Phil finally joined the call, and a hush fell over them. Phil’s camera loaded and he shot them a sheepish grin, and then they exploded with sound.
He held up his hand to try and shut them the fuck up, and they complied until it was just Minx’s swearing that could be heard.
Phil sighed, a smile playing on his face. “Thank you, Minx, for the demonstration.”
Minx fell silent with a final “fuck you” under her breath.
“Alright, cutting to the chase, Tommy got punched yesterday arvo. He’s in the shower now, he’ll come on the call in a sec, and when he does you can’t mention his clinginess or he’ll be embarrassed and end up making himself touch-starved. Questions?”
The call burst back into noise.
Tommy stood in the shower, eyes tightly shut, breathing through his mouth as hot water cascaded down his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he made a note to check his face before he left the bathroom - he’d intentionally avoided his reflection in order to postpone reality.
Wow, that was a really angsty term for not wanting to see how bruised he was.
However, he had very quickly gone through the motions of washing his hair, and now had nothing else to procrastinate with, so he just stood and let his muscles loosen. It wouldn’t do to have tight neck muscles while discussing how he’d been clarted in front of the entire fucking internet.
Oh fuck, he was clarted in front of the whole internet.
Heaving a sigh, Tommy turned and fumbled around, trying to shut off the shower with his eyes still closed. It took only a few dozen attempts before he managed and reached up, grabbing his towel off the shower glass and drying off his face.
He procrastinated as much as he could while tugging on clothes, just a pair of jeans, a plain white shirt and his Sunday Club jumper, before finally turning and facing his reflection in the mirror.
His hair was still dripping water over his face, almost straight because of the weight that dragged it down. His eyes were a darkish-blue in comparison to the jumper’s turquoise, open wide and unflinching. He forced his gaze towards his cheek, raising a hand to press lightly against the bruising.
“Not my worst, honestly,” he mumbled, barely wincing at the moment of pain. There was a small bloom of popped vessels that was surrounded by a dark purple hue, turning into a green-ish blue as it got further away.
He considered applying foundation to the area but dismissed the idea out of hand. It’d be better to let them see for themselves.
Shit, he should really go talk to them.
Shit, it must’ve been half an hour since he woke up.
Fuck, he was obviously stalling.
Tommy gave a drawn-out sigh, grabbing a messy pile of fabric off the sink. On his way out, he passed the ironing cupboard and dropped his washing into the basket. He scrubbed his hair with his towel as he walked to the kitchen, and he was greeted with the welcome sight of Wilbur and a pot of tea.
“It’s been brewing for two minutes now,” Wilbur tried to smile assuringly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was obviously looking over the bruise, taking it in for the first time, and his jaw clenched almost unnoticeably.
In a weak attempt to calm him down, Tommy walked up to Wilbur and knocked his forehead into the man’s shoulder. Wilbur smiled despite himself, not hesitating to wrap his arms around his friend.
There was a pause as they soaked in the presence of each other. “They’re wrong, you know?” he whispered into his hair. “All those guys online. They’ve got no fucking clue what they’re talking about, none of them know you like we do.”
Tommy couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You’re such a sap.”
They stood there for a moment longer, just embracing, before Wilbur kissed the top of Tommy’s head and pushed him away. “C’mon, let’s go talk to these guys.”
“M’kay.” Tommy mumbled, dumping his towel onto the tea tray that Wilbur had used. He walked out into the corridor, trusting that Wilbur would bring out the tea.
Hey, he was traumatised. He could order the others around however much he liked.
As Tommy knocked on the door, he heard Phil call out before opening it and ducking his head in sheepishly. “Hi, shower’s over.”
Techno responded under his breath, “I can see that,” but his voice was just as strained as Phil’s smile.
Tommy sighed and walked forwards, taking the chair that Techno offered him with a short nod and placing a headphone in his ear. He opened his mouth to speak, realised he had nothing to say, and waved shyly.
A bunch of shocked faces stared back at him.
Unsurprisingly, it was Tubbo who first spoke up, “I swear I’ll fucking kill that bitch.”
A dozen voices piped up in agreement, but Tommy was the only one who protested, “You can’t just kill someone because they’re a shithead.”
“Watch me,” called a voice from behind him. Tommy didn’t have to turn around to know that Wilbur was probably leaning on the door frame like the dramatic arse he is.
“I’m pretty sure that’d land you in jail,” Tommy reminded him, as though that’d deter any of them.
“Tommy, we have more than twenty accomplices.” Ranboo pointed out. “We can make a believeable alibi easily, and there’s probably someone on the police who’s kid is a hardcore fan.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, ignoring the concerning amount of thought his friend had put into this. “I’m glad none of you are actually considering this, because there’s definitely a chance you’d get away with it.” At the guilty silence that followed, Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. “Right guys?”
Still silent.
“Right?”
“So anyways, Tommy-” Jack cut in, “Just out of curiosity, do you have the address of that guy?”
“Wha- no, Jack, of course I don’t have his fucking address, why would I-”
“I can find out,” Techno butted in.
“I could probably go and have a chat with him,” Phil offered. “They wouldn’t consider me as very threatening, so I could convince them to come and meet with us in a more private area.”
“Guys!” Tommy waved his hands around madly. “You can’t just fucking kill a guy, dude.”
“We won’t kill him,” Puffy assured.
“Okay, good-”
“We’ll just cause intense bodily harm.” Her smile was downright the scariest thing he’d seen all day.
“No-” Tommy groaned, running a hand down his face. “Like, I know you guys are joking-”
“Oh, are we?” Dream asked, eyes wide with fake innocence. “Shit, I didn’t know.”
Tommy shut him up with a glare, but there was humour in his smile. “I know you’re joking, but like- genuinely. Can we please try to move on from the dude?”
That earned him a lot of confused faces and multiple people whining in complaint. “No, listen, I have a good reason. Uhh… okay, I don’t have a great reason, but forgiving is good!” For some reason, it was these words that wiped the light atmosphere from the call. Tommy mourned it silently.
George leaned towards his camera, displaying a seriousness that nobody had thought possible from him. “Tommy, as much as it’s great that you’re literally the sweetest person alive, I really don’t see why I shouldn’t break my record of never getting in a fist fight.”
“Because-” Tommy flailed his hands around for a moment, trying to think of a way to explain, before tapping them on the table thoughtfully. “Okay, here’s an analogy. Let’s compare the guy who punched me to… Jack and Niki in canon.”
The two in mention flinched. “You know, let’s actually not do that-” Jack began as he ran a hand over his cap. He would’ve ran it through his hair, but… well.
“I have the irresistible urge to punch myself,” Niki grumbled, grimacing at the mere thought of being similar to that bastard. “Also to rewrite the lore immediately.”
“No- you’re nothing like him, I just need a way to explain it.” Tommy reassured them. “Your characters in lore have basically the same opinion that he had, the whole ‘wow you’re so annoying stop causing so much conflict’ and all that shit.”
“Which neither the characters nor the arsehole would’ve thought if they’d tried to have a conversation with you before going straight for aggression,” Skeppy interjected, a scowl on his face. Almost everyone in the call nodded or hummed in agreement. (A few dramatic motherfuckers did both, *cough* Sapnap.)
“I mean-” Tommy rolled his eyes, a small but grateful smile on his face. “Thank you, but shut the fuck up and let me talk.” A few of them had the grace to look mildly apologetic, so he continued.
“If I had fuckin’ - gone off at those two, had a villain arc and blown shit up or something, they wouldn’t have spontaneously had a change of heart and fallen to their knees, begging for mercy.” He glanced around at all of the faces listening intently, struck by a fuckton of anxiety out of nowhere.
He swallowed, told himself to suck it up, and resumed. “They would’ve gone around the server bragging, ‘We knew he was a wrongun’ and you never listened.’ They would’ve shown off their scars like trophies and pretty soon the whole server would be against me. Nobody would listen to me saying ‘they started it’ when there’s clear proof of the harm that I inflicted.”
Techno made a sound of disagreement in the back of his throat, looking thoughtful, and snapping back to the present when everyone’s attention slid over to him.
“But that doesn’t really apply here,” Techno started hesitantly, hearing their unasked questions. “Not to ruin the analogy, but in this case there’s plenty of proof that you didn’t start any conflict. Also, none of us are gonna turn against you for one bad decision.”
Tommy scoffed, expression bitter in a way that honestly worried Techno more than anything else. “I’m pretty sure Schlatt can testify that our crazy fucking fandom would disagree on both points.”
Schlatt at first looked caught off-guard at being addressed, having stayed silent for the call so far, but cleared his throat. “Hate to say it, but the kid’s got a point. You can’t do anything without somebody out there disagreeing, and all this shit has reached pretty far beyond just our viewers.”
Everybody fell silent in the aftermath of his words, and the tenseness grated against Tommy’s senses. He forced himself to breathe.
Again, Tubbo broke through the quiet. His light tone was a far cry from the previous talking. “Yeah. Tommy, never do that whole ‘mature’ thing again. It scares me.”
Tommy gave a bark of laughter at the unexpected words, eternally glad that Tubbo had relieved the heaviness of the call. He knew that it hadn’t been an accident, that his friend had read his discomfort and decided to speak up.
“Alright, that way of thinking clearly doesn’t work.” Tommy acknowledged, casting around for another way to explain it. “How about…”
His whole face lit up, and he didn’t notice the breaths that many people released upon seeing him drop the seriousness. “Have you ever considered how much of a flex forgiveness is?”
Shocked laughter rang through the call from those people still unmuted.
“No, think about it!” Tommy insisted, smiling. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to make people happy. “Imagine someone comes up to you, just fucking begging for forgiveness and apologising for whatever they’ve done, and you just dismiss them like, ‘Oh, that thing? Pfft, that didn’t affect me at all, I’d almost forgotten about it to be honest.’
“They’d just kinda be like, ‘O-oh. Okay then. Umm.’ It’d throw ‘em right off their tracks. I’ve actually done that to someone before, his expression was fucking hilarious.”
He glanced to the side to see Phil’s expression, then his eyes slid a little further to the side, and he groaned. “Shit, I forgot about my tea.”
Wilbur gasped in mock-offense (it wasn’t hard to see how glad he was to move on from the topic previous). “You motherfucker, I made you that tea.”
“Fuck off, it’s not as big of an achievement as you make it out to be.” Tommy complained, wishing he had something to throw at him.
“My own blood, sweat and tears went into its creation-”
Tommy wrinkled his nose up in disgust. “Ew. If that’s what the tea’s made of, I’m glad I didn’t drink it.”
Wilbur rolled his eyes, moving forward to ruffle his hair. “I can go heat it up if you like,” he offered, like the gracious gentleman he pretends to be.
“Nah, I’ll just grab a coffee later.” Tommy sighed. “The routine’s already well and truly broken.”
Phil frowned. “Yeah, are you gonna go back to that cafe? Surely people have figured out where it is, from the video.”
Tommy looked at him for a moment and then groaned dramatically, going boneless in his chair. “For Fuck’s sake.” (Yes, that was worthy of capitalisation. Just picture his anguish.)
He jumped as something wet brushed his hand, scowling at the laughter of his friends and looking down to Noah. “Aww, hey mate. I know, I’m acting so distressed, is it freaking you out?” he asked solemnly, as though speaking to one of his friends.
(Does that imply that she isn’t one of his friends?)
Tommy asked solemnly, because he was speaking to one of his friends, and anyone who disagrees shall be fucking slaughtered. Noah responded by resting her head on his knee, and he smiled. A few coos reached his ears from Phil’s computer, and he flipped them off without looking.
He didn’t pay attention to the light steps of feet on carpet as Techno approached from behind him, using Tommy’s head as an armrest. “One important question to ask Tommy: What should we say when we’re addressing this? People are gonna be asking left and right when anybody streams.”
Tommy looked up from Noah, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Honestly?” he started hesitantly, before shooting the computer a grin. “Go fucking wild.”
[Forty minute video - “MCYT STREAMERS ADDRESS ‘THE CLIP’, credit: @lauren_.505.” 2 million views, 227k likes, 3.7k dislikes]
The video opens with the clip from ten minutes into Wilbur’s stream, as he was the first person to address it.
“Okay, I know you all want me to talk about that fuckin- that clip, so I will.” he stared dead into the camera, face impassive except for the slight clench of his jaw. “I’m really fucking mad that happened. Like, I know,” he waved his hands in the air. “It’s to be expected, right? With that many subscribers, it makes sense for Tommy to be fuckin- heckled on the street, and physical violence isn’t too big of a step from that, right?
“Wrong, you fucking arse.” His glare got stronger. “This is really fucking shitty, and to be completely fucking honest with you, this shit is only the last cherry on top of a whole bunch of problems that have been building up surrounding this fucking community.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “I get it, not everyone who watches us is like this, but shit.” he laughed, cold and sharp and lore-sounding, somehow. “There’s such a toxic air surrounding us, and a lot of it thrives on Twitter, with cancel culture.”
Wilbur’s (justified) rant went on for five minutes, covering the topics of streamers not being puppets, the terrifying amounts of hate and the mental health aspects, and a lot of things that related to The Clip.
He ended by collapsing back into his chair and running a hand through his hair. “So, yeah. Fuck that, man.” He laughed, this time genuine. “Fuck, that took a lot out of me. Basically, something needs to change, and it sure as fuck isn’t us.”
The next clip was from the end of the same stream, as there was a knock heard on the door. “Oh- fuck, I’m just ending stream!” he called out.
“I know, you useless shit, I’ve been in chat.” Tommy’s voice called, and the door creaked open. Tommy stepped into the camera’s range and shot said stream a grin. “Have you seen Twitter?”
“I-” Wilbur looked up to him (physically, kind of mentally too if he's honest [which he wasn’t]) with a confused smile. “No, I haven’t unblocked it in a couple weeks. Why, what are they doing?” his voice suddenly took on a protective tone, but Tommy waved it away with a laugh.
“Nothing bad, I promise.” he reassured. “Just thought you’d want to know that ‘#cancelcancelculture’ is trending number seven, and its climbing the ranks really fucking quickly.” His grin became a little softer, but he didn’t let himself fully drop his persona.
Wilbur looked at the phone, up at Tommy, back to the screen, and then burst out laughing. The blonde followed suit a moment later, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
He stayed for a couple of minutes to chat with Wilbur, and when he inevitably looked over at chat, he found them spamming about the bruise he sported. Tommy winced before letting a grin take over his face. He leaned forwards, resting his hands on the desk.
“Chat, I just got fuckin- sucker punched. You saw the video, what did you expect?” He rolled his eyes, desperately trying to press back the urge to hide his face. Tommy gave a final smile, cuffed the back of Wilbur’s head, and left him to wrap up the stream.
The next part of the video starred the one and only JustaMinx, and this one involved much less ‘society’ talk and much more cussing out.
She didn’t ease her way into it, didn’t try to give context, just shouted, “I’ve said this before, I’ll say it again, how fucking dare anyone- anybody out on this stupid fucking internet - hurt Tommyinnit. It's bullshit. It’s fucking bullshit, and anyone who disagrees can go fuck themselves, because honestly-”
Her shouting and swearing melted into a few clips from Dream’s most recent video, in which he addressed a lot of things around stan culture and hating on other streamers. He never directly mentioned Tommy, but there was no doubt that he was a part of it, and his passive aggressive comments couldn’t have been clearer.
The most notable quote could be linked to the Twitter account that the internet had uncovered, belonging to the man - unsurprisingly, they were a passionate Dream fan.
“I’d just like to say again, because this isn’t the first time that we’ve had this kind of issue-” Dream muttered under his breath, “-fucking somehow - that you do not speak for your streamers. Okay? Like Wilbur said. We aren’t puppets, we aren’t dumb fucking marrionettes that you can tug around on strings, and I’ll shout it to the world. Stop expecting us to agree to the dumb shit that you arseholes say.”
His section of the compilation ended with, “I don’t know when liking one streamer and hating on another became synonymous, but it needs to stop.”
Techno’s segment was more light-hearted, poking fun and going on tangents, but still had a serious moment. The protectiveness was clear in his voice when he threatened, “You need to stay away from Dream SMP streamers, and Tommy especially. Because no matter how shitty our fandom can be - there goes my monetization - we’ve all become very attached to one another. If that guy walked into a room full of us, he’d leave on a stretcher.”
Pause. “In a video game, of course. What kind of lunatic do you take me for? Wink, nudge, wink, nudge.”
Jack and Niki actually addressed it together, good on them, where Niki attempted to get Jack to act as the man so that she could punch him. He was terrified, and rightly so, with their segment ending up short and full of rage.
Speaking of Tubbo, there’s another duo who spoke together, in a half-hour stream where the conversation comprised mainly of torture methods. Ranboo, for once in his life, decided not to be the voice of reason, and instead encouraged Tubbo’s musings about the many ways you could chop a man’s dick off without legal repercussions.
“But, like, if you stabbed him with a red hot poker, the wound would be cauterised as it was made. No harm, no foul, right Ran?” Tubbo grinned.
Puffy, Phil and Sam all had very similar vibes, mainly consisting of guilt-tripping and talking about how sweet Tommy is. It was almost like a debating club, where they took all of the points that had been raised and shut them down, leaving no room for argument.
“Tommy’s loud and annoying?” Puffy scoffed. “Yeah, that’s a facade. He’ll jokingly insult you while making you laugh and doing something to help, which means that you don’t notice how well he dealt with any kind of negativity until he sends you a message on Discord asking if you’re okay. That kid is sunshine personified. Did you know that his favourite emoticon is ‘colon d’? I bet you didn’t, because you don’t actually know him. Stop pretending to have a valid point.”
“People make fun of Tommy’s thumbnails and titles a lot,” Sam mused, “Especially us, to be honest. But we know that the way we do it won’t hurt him, because they’re actually really effective. Tommy spent so much time learning about the algorithm and figuring out how to do shit well, and we can’t just insult him for that, ‘cause he’s such a smart kid. Honestly, I don’t know where he got those brains from, but his parents should be really proud. I know the SMP are.”
Phil’s talk felt quite similar to being chided by parents, as he spoke about violence not being the answer and all that responsible shit. “I mean, I’m not forcing you to like Tommy’s content, because not everybody can have the same taste. But if you don’t like it, there’s this advanced method on youtube which I like to call ‘don’t watch it, you dumb fuck’.” He laughed, the classic cackling that always sounded a bit confused. “Whatever you do, definitely don’t go straight to punching mode. Not without provocation.
“And even when he was provoked - as in, he got sucker punched, as I’m sure you’re aware - Tommy stopped Wil from beating the guy! When a whole bunch of us were on a call making sure he was okay, he just kept trying to find ways to make us forgive the guy who hurt him. Like- dude!”
He laughed again, this time with a little more malice. “Does that sound like someone who’s ‘immature’ and ‘full of himself’?”
Those three in particular were often compared to ‘parental affection’, and with the pure fondness towards Tommy in their tone, it wasn’t hard to see where the internet got that from.
Schlatt’s most recent video was completely normal, except for at the end where he spoke with a black screen. “I had this video ready before the whole shit-fest went down, but I just want to throw in my two cents. Tommy does not deserve half of the hate that’s thrown his way, and I know that he’s almost definitely trying to look on the bright side of this situation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left a comment on this video saying ‘holy shit guys I can’t believe Jschlatt is on my side’ and, man.”
He sighed. “Think whatever you want about me, and my videos, and all of the drama surrounding me, because some of that shit is actually justified. However, I don’t know how you can be cruel to that ray of wholesomeness without hating yourself for it.”
[Sure enough, the pinned comment on Schlatt’s video was ‘omigosh guys I can’t believe Jschlatt just called me a ray of wholesomeness’, with a response of ‘holy shit I feel so old around you kids’. It was sweet.]
Karl and Quackity had a passive-aggressive tweet conversation, and the amount of pointed comments alone could’ve killed a fully-grown boar. Sapnap then read out the thread on his stream, adding onto it effortlessly with an underlying air of fury in his tone.
George’s talking about it was very awkward, as many have come to expect with George, but it's the thought that counts. Purpled did a bedwars stream where he often claimed that enemies he faced were that guy - before beating them off the map.
Bad and Skeppy did a stream chill together where the topic was brought up, and when Skeppy teased, “How bad was this, actually? Like, swear-word worthy, would you think?”
The response was a completely deadpan, “It’s a really crappy situation.”
Skeppy choked on his saliva. “Bad! I can’t believe you would-”
“What? No, like, that guy’s a jerk.”
“Bad, I know you’re upset, but you need to watch your fucking language.”
“Hey!”
That’s not all of them. There isn’t enough time to share every single story (and this book hasn’t even touched on the fans’ responses), but here’s a few more.
Punz offered to bounty hunt for Tommy at half price, Fundy declared that he was bringing back the Butcher’s Army, Foolish made a wooden statue of That Guy and set fire to it, so many people showed their support, and the whole internet was buzzing with excitement.
After two weeks of this, Tommy finally streamed again. With the title, ‘BIG MAN IS BACK AND HILARIUOS AS EVER’, he played the Fairy Fountain remix, popped open and can of coke, and bellowed, “What is up, chat?”
He went through the normal opening, reading out the chat, joking and laughing. The only point in which he spoke about The Clip was when somebody pointed out the remains of a shiner of his left cheek.
Tommy rolled his eyes, still grinning and bouncing around. “Alright, I’m not getting out without saying something.”
With a sickly-sweet smile, he stared into the camera and flipped the bird with both hands. “Fuck you,” he kept (smiling?) baring his teeth as he glared daggers, and it was easily the funniest and most terrifying expression he’d ever made. “You can use this screenshot.”
And that was that. The stream continued, the multitude of Dream SMP members who were mods in his chat banned anybody who was remotely unkind, and the world kept on spinning.
After all of the shit, it could spin with a little less toxicity and a little more kindness.
Plus, somebody posted a video of That Guy getting a rotten tomato thrown at him, so maybe there’s hope for humanity after all.