Chapter Text
the buzzing of a broken fan was all the background noise tommy had. he sat at the front desk and doodled in his sketchbook absentmindedly. the crude doodle was of a curly haired brunette wearing an obnoxious yellow shirt with blue pants. tommy felt pretty fucking proud of himself as he slipped the peice of paper into one of his coworkers mailbox.
a loud ‘ding’ was heard from the glass doors as they opened. two teens walked in talking loudly to each other, causing tommy to look over and make his way back from the mail trip he made.
“no tubbo, you got grounded rightfully! just because you’re upset your sister didnt approve of your bomb attempt doesn’t mean i should be dragged into your act of rebellion.” the tallest boy spoke as he ran a hand through is dule split hair.
huh, tommy thought the colors were pretty neat- not that he’d say that.
“but beloved! we said we’d go through hell and back together!” the shorter one, tubbo tommy presumed, shot back. he wiped a fake tear from his eye as they approached the desk tommy sat at. the taller one sighed heavily and muttered something the blond didn't catch- but with one swift elbow to the side it seemed the other did.
tommy quirked an eyebrow at them and sat down in his chair. yes his chair, wilbur stopped stealing it after the blow horn incident. he shivered at the memory. tommy shook off the thought and smiled at them with his famous customer friendly smile.
“you look ill boss man, you good?”
“what the fuck tubbo you don’t just say that to someone!”
“shut up ranboo- anyway, can we get a tattoo?”
tommy blinked once, twice, then started cackling. tubbo gave a mischievous grin as the other, now named ranboo, groaned. tommy calmed down after another minute and took a couple deep breaths in before turning back to them.
“sure big man, you can get a tattoo. what do you guys want and when would you like to schedule an appointment?” tommy snickered again as he tapped away on the keyboard in front of him- attempting to seem mature and open up the two artists schedules. it was quiet for a moment and he looked up over the screen.
“we have to schedule an appointment?” came a dumbfounded reply from tubbo. the brown haird boy scrunched his face in disappointment. “cant we just do it really quick and pay?” ranboo was silently watching the interaction with a pained expression on his face.
“uh, yeah. you have to schedule first, yknow- so the dude is ready for you?”
it was silent again, then the door flew open.
“tommy what the FUCK?” an angry curly haired brunette borderline screamed, as he shoved in front of the other two and slammed a sweater onto the counter. the blond smirked at him.
“ayup wilbitch, hows it hanging? nice sweater.”
“nice sweater!” wilbur mocked with a high pitched voice, his hands waving in the air. he leveled the younger with a glare. “what the fuck did you do to my sweater? that was one of my favorites you brat!” his face was red and he seemed to be struggling to breath normally.
tommy stared at him with a blank face for a few seconds before screaming loudly.
this caused a few things to happen.
tubbo and ranboo took a few steps back, debating if this was worth whatever murder scene was about to happen here.
wilbur lunged over the desk to grab tommy by the back of his shirt, yelling at him to shut up.
and finally the back door slammed open as an older blond looked around frantically and a pink haired guy had a gun out and swung around.
the older blond quickly realized what was happing and sighed. “wilbur let him- tommy shut up- wilbur let him go damn it!” he didnt even seem angry, just disappointed. the two boys separated immediately and looked down guilty. well tommy didnt but if anyone asked he was guilty, totally, completely.
“wilbur started it!” tommy quickly pointed a finger at the other.
“what the fuck? no i didnt!” wilbur sputtered out and grabbed his sweater to show. “the fucker stained my sweater with squiggly lines phli!” he unraveled the cloth to show a once soft blue sweater ruined with black lines smudge around. tommy started cackling again and stumbled while trying to go over to the pink haired fella.
“techno, phil- and you two-“ ranboo and tubbo shared an unsure glance. “look at my artwork! it's a cow!”
“its a monstrosity tommy.” can a low monotonous voice from the pink haired male, techno. the guy squinted his eyes in attempted to see the so called cow but failed in doing so.
phil sighed again and rubbed his forehead. “toms what did we talk about practicing on wilbur’s clothing? you have proper material here mate.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i don't want to call puffy again.”
tommy squawked and quickly grabbed the sweater, much to wilbur’s dismay. and shuffled over to the other teens standing there and showed off his creation. “what do you guys think? pretty pog right?” he smiled at them.
“tommy right?” tubbo started and got a nod. “i think that you should totally continue doing this.” his mischievous smile returned, eyes glimmered with an unknown emotion. “i love it.”
ranboo stood there baffled. “what the fu-“ tommy cut him off.
“SEE! its amazing! you guys just don't have an eye for talent.” he nodded to himself and he walked over to the window by the front doors and dragged out the spinny chair. he opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out some tape before leaving it open and walking back to the chair.
“tommy what are you doing?” phil asked, only to be ignored.
the boy climbed into the chair and slowly stood up with the tape and sweater in his hands. the chair shook a bit under the pressure and tommy tried to balance himself by placing a hand on the window. after a few seconds of stilling himself- he continued on with his mission. he pulled out a large strip of tape and started to hang up the sweater.
everyone stared with varying expressions. techno pulled out his phone and started to scroll to his foster moms number and click the call button. he quietly held the phone to his ear and waited for her to pick up.
ring one and no answer.
tommy smiled in victory at his handy work and pushed both hands off the glass.
ring two and no answer.
the chair started to wobble again and tommy stuck out his hands to stop from falling.
ring three and no answer.
his attempt of regaining balance seemed to be failing, he wobbled even more now.
ring four and no answer.
he grunted in frustration and scrunched his brows and he went to place his hands down on the head rest.
ring five and no answer.
he leans too far forward and theres a loud creaking noise before-
ring six- “hello, techno?” a voice answers.
CRACK!
the head rest snaps and a screech is heard while a blur of red and yellow slam onto the floor. the windows shake, and the tap loosens.
“hey, tommy is being stuipd again.” was all the male said, a sigh was heard on the other side. he hung up the phone.
the sweater falls and lands on tommys sprawled out, groaning form.
everyone was quiet again.
“so does this mean we still need to make an appointment?” tubbo broke the peaceful silence and looked around. phil turned to the boy and grimaced.
“you need to be 18 or i need your guardians consent.”
“fuck.”