Tommy yawned. It was the middle of the day, and he was currently just sitting in another coffee shop with his very ethically working phone. Yes, it was bad that he wasn't ordering from his own shop, but can you blame him? Tubbo and Ranboo would probably go looking for him there first. And he just wasn't prepared for an apology.
Either way, they weren't on his mind right now. They were both far away in the back of his brain where he couldn't hear or see them.
Scrolling through TikTok he watched edits of thousands of heroes come up. Philza, Ghost, Blade, Ghost, Ghost, Philza, Blade and so on. Every now and then other heroes such as Captain or Buck would pop up. Though the main three were of Philza, Ghost and Blade.
Popping a bottle open, Tommy sipped his coke. The cooling flavors burst into his mouth, carbonation surrounding his teeth in a flurry of watery color.
Leaning back, the child searched up 'Racoon' inside his search bar.
He gasped; his screen filled to the brim of him jumping across rooftops in little clips.
Excitedly he started scrolling through and through. Watching every single edit of him to the full length and always commenting on it.
Tommy knew that he was a popular vigilante now.
But he didn't know he had a whole ass fanbase.
"You a Racoon fan or something?", somebody toned in from behind him.
He looked up, staring into chocolate eyes and cardboard box colored hair.
"Oh uhm...yeah I supposed so. I'm not really into that sort of 'hero-villain' sort of stuff though.", he lied through his teeth. Scratching his head nonchalantly he gave him a grin with one corner of his lip.
Don't be suspicious.
His brain kept on droning. The guy had one of those classic fedora hats on and a black suit. To be honest, he looked like Ranboo on crack.
"Huh...you aren't Thomas Innit, are you?"
Tommy blinked; nobody knew his full name.
Other than Quackity and Tub-
Oh.
Fuck.
Did his dumbass roommates send in a report for him since he was supposedly 'missing' currently?
No, no, they aren't that dumb. I mean, if they did they had to have some sort of legal document saying that they had custody of him. At least, that's how he (and the author) thought missing reports worked.
Though maybe they-, I mean, he was just stupid.
"Uhm..."
He thought about his answer for a second.
"...no?"
The respond sounded more like a question.
The other brit wrote something down in a notebook he pulled probably out of his pocket.
Was this guy a detective or something?
"Ok, alright. So, I got the wrong person? You're not Thomas Innit?"
"Nope. My name isn't even close to Thomas nor Innit.", another grin etched on his face. He had just completely gotten away with lying to a random guy. Good job Tommy.
"What is it then?"
Fuck x2.
"It's...It's...Wilbur.", he was such a genius. Nobody knew Wilbur, and it was such a common name too, right?
"Wilbur...?"
Oh, damn he was asking for his last name.
"Yes, my name is Wilbur...Spoon."
"Spoon? Like the thing you drink soup with?"
What the fuck was that for a question. Of course, what else would you do with a spoon other than drink soup?
"Yeah. Might I ask what your name is? Since you're being such a bitch about knowing what my parents called me at birth, why don't I get to know what you're called."
This guy was annoying the fuck out of him.
"I have a nametag on-"
Tommy glanced down, noticing a very prevalent 'Hello, my name is...' tag stickered right onto his chest.
"Jorge?"
"No, you-, sorry, it's George. Not Jorge."
Huh, what a basic name. Jorge was way better of a name than just George.
"Alright Jorge. And why do you keep asking me all these questions?"
George looked very confused, "I've only asked you like one..., never mind, I am asking you if you're Thomas Innit because that man is currently missing."
Brown haired man pressed a paper into his face, labeled as, 'Missing man, Thomas Innit'.
"What for a picture did they choose of me, I mean, him?!"
He stared in horror at the photograph. It was him when he was fourteen smiling with teeth at the camera and a shirt which said, 'I get all the biscuits'.
"You look identical to him, and your name is unbelievably stupid. I believe I will be taking you over to the police station.", George whipped out a badge.
Fuck x3.
"Well, Géörgé. I don't want to. Now kindly fuck off before I throw my pink drink at you."
Tommy was just so smart, threatening a police officer is the best thing to do.
"Now I have even more of a reason to take you to the station, you're a missing person and you threatened to assault me."
George reached out to grab Tommy and very gruffly dragged him out of the coffee shop.
"YOU LET GO OF ME YOU DUMB-"
Bam
The car door slammed closed, and he was stuck in the co-pilot seat with Géörgé.
____________
A/N +IMPORTANT NEWS
Po is back. Back again.
That's right men and blue triangles. I'm back.
Lmao anyways I just wrote a math exam so yeah :p.
Per request I wrote something fun, something not so angsty, something where there's no violence and only a ton of swearing. Enjoy a dip of the toes for the upcoming chapters.
Should I let Beeduo and Tommy fight again?
Now to the important part....
I'm currently in the starting phase of a new fic.
It's a Karlnap fic since I loved the aspect of sad time traveling so...
I'm already hyping it up. It'll be called 'It's U' (y'know the cavetown song) and the song will have a lot to do with the plot. It won't be crack and instead something serious.
Ps. it will end sad and it well end with both not having a happy ending D;
Bye bye my little biscuits~ <333
-Po (A.K.A should be working on her spanish project but is instead taking like 2 hours to write this because I didn't have any ideas)
YOU ARE READING
TommyInnit's somewhat deadly tea bags
Hayran KurguTommyInnit, also known as Racoon, is your average vigilante. With a (very) low bank account he helps out selling tea and backed goods in the day, but at night has a way more dangerous job. While juggling tea bag selling, vigilante work AND surviving...
