#also i just wanted to add: the reason Tom's mom is bald has nothing to do with any sort of illness or genetic disorder | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoinkschief · 8 months

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Hello Jay, I would like to hear your headcanons about Tom and his mom 👀👀👀 Go on, speak into the mic 🎤

AAA HI NEIL I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

Taps mic 🎤 ahem

Buckle in cause this got absurdly long I did not expect to get this long omll

So I guess I'll begin when he was younger,, when his mother and father first got married they were just going into their 30s, and while weren't actually trying for a kid they did end up having one: Tom

Barbara (Tom's mom) was ecstatic at having a kid whereas Peter (Tom's dad) was terrified, he knows he has anger issues and is very aware of how he's gotten easily frustrated with children in the past and doesn't want to get angry towards his soon to be son (though Barbs has been a dear with helping him and his anger, truly he'd be in jail by now if not for her)

Fast forward a bit, Tom's born and while Peter isn't magically cured of any anger issues, Tom is just the sweetest little guy and he, genuinely throughout his fatherhood, has not once gotten angry at his son. Gotten angry a good few things, but his son and wife weren't in that list

Tom is also born completely nonverbal (this is a little reference to how 2004 he's drawn without a mouth,,, I know that all the characters are at this time because mmm animation but in most fanart of 2004 only Tom is the one kept without a mouth because that and his one eye gives him creechur vibes I love it so I incorporated it like this) due to his autism, and he did get formally diagnosed early on due to this

It's a bit of a struggle trying to figure out what he's saying but he's a quick learner for how to read and write so if he can't get what he's trying to say through hand motions or actions he'll go and write it down (at least when he gets around 5yo, the years before were hard and they had to learn a weird, Tom version of sign language,, to clarify not actual sign language just learning what motions of his mean what)

One interaction I think about a lot with Tom and his mother is in Tom's youth when he's, maybe, 4? And he sees his mom shave her hair for the first time. Tom didn't like the sudden change as she looked like a different person and was having trouble understanding why it was gone

It took Barb a while to fully understand what he meant, why he was crying and whatnot, but finally able to sit him down in her lap he started making a lot of motions towards his own hair and then Barb's, and the interaction goes something like this:

"Are you talking about my hair?" Barbara quietly concerns, gesturing to her now bald head.

Tom made small grunts with wide eyes, rocking in his mother's lap incessantly.

"Okay, okay," She nodded holding her son's hand gently in her own- less so holding and more resting them in her own. "It's gone, baby."

Tom didn't seem to like that answer, shaking his head no with his hand reaching up to grab and tug at his his in distress. His eyes were screwed shut, why would his mom do that? But Barbara was quick to respond with carefully holding her son's hands again, their fingers interlaced as he squeezed on her hands instead in his temper.

"You don't like that it's gone?" She tilted her head to the side, bringing Tom's hands away from his face and towards her chest.

He shook his head no with an upset grunt, swinging his hands (and by proxy his mother's) side to side to drive the point further.

"Ohh,, pumpkin," Barbara gave Tom a sad smile, resting their hands in her lap as she gave him a small, reassuring squeeze.

"It’ll be alright-”

Tom hated that answer more, giving a frustrated noise as his eyes started welling with tears.

“Honey,” Barbara frowned at the tears coming out of her child’s eyes, it hurt to see him so upset, gently running her thumb along his cheeks to swipe them away. “I’m still mama, I’m still you mom.”

She led Tom’s hand over her heart, letting him feel the steady beating of it. The constant and steady pattern of thumping seemed to entrance him for a moment until his mild rocking and distressed noises slowly came to a halt.

“See? It’s still me, baby.” She cooed, running her thumb along the back of her son’s hand. “My hair is gone, but I’m here.”

“Sometimes, in life,” Barbara began, setting Tom’s hands down in his lap again now that he was calmer. “things change, and we can’t control it. Like my hair, you couldn’t control that, could you?”

Tom looked up from watching his hand feel the steady movement of her heart pumping, looking up at his mother’s face. He still looked displeased and upset, but less so, even going as far as to reach for where her hair used to be, trying to grab at the air around her head like it was still there. Fruitless.

She held his hand again, pressing it against her cheek with a broad smile, one she gave him often. He couldn’t keep his resentment for long, giving his own goofy smile back with a giggle. The way her gap tooth showed when she smiled that big was forever burned into his memory, only disappearing from her face so that she could kiss the palm of her son’s hand.

Tom shook his head, frowning at the thought but keeping a wide eyed expression to his mother as she continued her lesson. She smiled to him once again.

“Well, that happens a lot in life.” She sighed, cupping Tom’s cheek in her hand. “And no one likes it, you’re not alone for thinking that. But what you can control is how you deal with the change. Like how you showed me how upset you were, so now we’re talking about it. Do you feel better about it now?”

Tom took a moment, eyes casted down as he thought on it. He gave a small nod as he looked back up at her.

“Good.” She beamed. “And from now on, I’ll do my best to let you know beforehand when I make a change like that, alright?” She kissed Tom’s forehead, causing the child to give a small giggle. That was her favorite noise.

Now, Tom was always a Mama's Boy (not in a derogatory way, he just loved his mom a whole hell of a lot) but even moreso after his father died. They both were grieving and so it caused them to cling closer together because of it, to the point that had it not been for his friend (at the time only Matt, but later Edd too as this was before Tord was introduced to the friend group) he probably would've completely self isolated

They do a ton of things together as Tom gets over and they both eventually heal from Peter's death, baking, sewing, shopping, watch movies, anything they can do when they have the chance to hang out together

They were so close in fact that Barbara was genuinely the first person he came out to for being nonbinary (He/They pronoun user :) ) and of course she loved him unconditionally, but he didn't even tell Matt, Edd or Tord (now in Highschool and having been introduced to delinquent) that yet

However, later in his highschool years, around late Junior year (11th grade) or early Senior year (12th grade) of highschool his mother dies as well. Not from a freak bear with a gun attack though, instead from Pneumonia, which is something she tends to get a lot and always had in her youth, and while it usually isn't fatal and there is treatment and whatnot and she definitely took as much as help as she could, this time just hit different it seemed.

This really fucked with Tom during some of his most important years of his life and caused him to go into a BIG depressive episode for a long long time

Side note that I guess also kinda applies: Had it not been for Tord being just as stubborn of a jackass as Tom, he would've completely self isolated. Edd and Matt helped a lot in his youth but he also had his mom to encourage him, but now with his immediate family all gone he didn't see much of a reason to interact with people. And where Edd and Matt lack in persuasion, Tord more than makes up for in the lack of giving a fuck and would literally drag Tom outside even if he was kicking and screaming. This is mostly because Tord is second only to Tom himself in how durable he is, like a brick shithouse (built like one, too) and not afraid to make Tom hate him if it meant getting him better in the long run (a running theme I have for their relationship :) they're less so "GRR I HATE YOU I HOPE YOU DIE /GEN" and more of like have this weird understanding with eachother where like "I'll literally kill you if you touch me but I'd kill anyone you touched you" type beat, unafraid to get the other to hate them for the greater good because they have the understanding that they wouldn't do something so wildly stupid for no reason. Yes that plays into The End and the future events of WTFuture)

I love them so much oh my god you have zero idea

Anyway, TL;DR

Tom and his mom are extremely close and helped each other get through the worst of times while Tom continues to learn the lesson of "everything changes, it's out of your control, and you can only control how you proceed with it"

#jay talk #jay answers #also i just wanted to add: the reason Tom's mom is bald has nothing to do with any sort of illness or genetic disorder #she just was like “fuck it” and decided she wanted to shave it off #i know that sounds weird but i try to incorporate it in the way she dresses too #i chose this because one: [insert bowling ball joke here]#and two: to show her openness as a character and that's got nothing to obscure who she is #not wearing layers. usually not wearing long sleeves unless it's cold. same thing with pants and they're usually skinny if she does #character design is my passion and psychoanalysis is my game I'm sorry you have to deal with it lol #i really need to draw her more i love Mrs. Barbara Inkwell #and thank you Neil for asking this #I'm bursting at the seams /pos #and I'm trying to get back into the writer grind 💪💪 so this helps lol #sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask lol got my creative mojo back so I'm grabbing it by the reigns and multitasking #to the best of my ability without burning myself out that is #i guess i'll add the ew tags cause this is like a headcanon rant so #eddsworld #ew #ew tom #tom #ew tom's mom #tom's mom #ew oc ?#barabara #barbara inkwell #peter was mentioned #fun fact: he took barb's last name cause he despised his own last name :)#also her name's inkwell and that's sick as fuck #eddsworld headcanons

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martakepite · 5 years

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My Mom Has No Hair

My mom has no hair. The thought sinks in. She says she’s fine, but I hear the fear in her voice traveling 2000-something kilometers from her mouth to my ear. My lips start to shake and eyes fill up with tears, but I can’t cry. Not while she’s still on the line. I will chew off my own arm, before I let her hear me crying. I have to be strong. We both need to be strong.

I finish the call and my tears can’t stay locked away any longer. It’s go time for these babies.

But, as I start to cry, my Chinese neighbor walks in the shared kitchen, where I just tried to eat my dinner. Or my sandwich, to be precise. Of course, now the appetite has gone, as well as my ability to hide the tears. She has already seen too much. Should I kill her? - a thought slips into my mind. She will tell everyone. Or worse! She will try and talk to me! Go away, go away, go away… - I keep repeating in my head in hopes that she might hear me and actually get the hint.

The luck is with me, she’s leaving to her room. Right before she shyly asks: “Are you okay?”

Damn it! Should have killed her! “Yeah, I’m fine,” I smile back instead.

Just as she walks out of the kitchen and I think I can cry my eyes out all by myself, now the Chinese guy, Tom, walks in. He doesn’t seem too bothered by my tears, which I’m trying my best to hide. I pray that he would just microwave his meal and go into his room, but, no, of course, not. He sits right next to me and chews away at whatever that red, sad thing in his plastic tray is.

I quickly finish my tea and leave the kitchen. I’m not in the mood to deal with any of these people tonight.

I run into my room, hoping that Hivda, my Turkish roommate, won’t ask any questions, quickly find the pack of cigarettes that Monika gave me and go outside.

My mom has no hair, is all I keep hearing in my head. I try to turn the music louder, but it doesn’t help. The tears roll down my cheeks, but the fucking elevator can’t reach my floor soon enough. I’m standing there, waiting for that box to come up and take me down, and I have almost quit the idea of going for a smoke. Are you crazy?! Do you want to get a cancer?! Well, that’s a stupid thought. Quite ironic… Well, you know… Because my mom has no hair.

Finally, the elevator doors open and I jump in. People walk in and out, and the elevator takes forever to get to the ground floor. I slide right between the people just so I can get out of the stupid box as fast as possible. I manage to do it without anyone noticing me or trying to talk to me again. My first success so far.

I speed up and walk outside in the cold air. It’s funny how you can’t really feel the cold against your skin, when you’re so overtaken by something. I go through the bushes to the smoker’s spot. Fuck, there are also people there. God forbid, they will try to talk to me. I swear, I will throw a cigarette at their faces, if they do.

I choose my spot right between two very chatty groups of students. I take out one of the white cigarettes and with trembling fingers click it. These cigarettes are now illegal in the UK. I’m a somewhat criminal now.

For the last time I consider not smoking, because I might soon develop a bad habit. But then I already have the lighter turning on the flame and I inhale the first smoke. I don’t want to praise this stupid habit, but it was the only thing that helped. Everything stopped. Including me and my tears.

My mom has no hair, the thought sank in.

I kept inhaling the minty smokes and looked around the Marylebone Road. So many cars, everyone is rushing somewhere, but that’s nothing unusual for London. Here there is no peace. People are always rushing. Life here is always rushing. Find me a peaceful Londoner and I will show you a good liar. I have been here for exactly three weeks now and I am more than certain that you can’t be peaceful in this city. Only if for the reason that you’re constantly surrounded by the rush, stress and loud noises. And that’s not peace.

Shiny lights from the cars, lanterns and traffic lights all blur into a huge pile of colors. I only manage to snap out of the blur and see things again the way they truly are when a double-decker stops right in front of me. “Chase after your dreams,” says a sign on the double-decker. Fuck off, I growl at it in my head. And, little to my surprise, it actually does go away. Instead I’m left looking bluntly at the Madame Tussaud’s museum.

My mom has no hair, I hear my thoughts again. She’s bald like Gandhi.Suddenly a sarcastic smile appears on my face as a huge smoke dragon leaves my lips. I chuckle sadly, I bet my mom would find this funny as well.

I finish my cigarette and finally start to hear the song that was playing in my earphones all this time. It’s “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” by Oasis. Of course, it’s this song. Of course, Oasis. I mean, I am in England, of all the places, and I was just crying. I’m a walking, talking, breathing cliche. What a poor excuse of a human I am!

My mom has no hair, I repeat, this time on purpose, in my head. But she has a wig. And, like, three more chemo therapies ahead of her. And the surgery. And then she will have more medical therapies. And then she will live happily, and HEALTHY, ever after.

I get back to my dorm, wait for the elevator, get in the box and start my way up. I won’t smoke again, I announce in my head. Unless it’s an emotional emergency, a voice in the back of my head adds. I walk into the room smelling of cigarettes and tear stains still are visible on my face, but Hivda asks no questions and minds her business. I like her. She’s a good roommate. She probably thinks I’m crying about a boy, because I haven’t told her anything about my mom. Haven’t told a lot of people. Don’t really know how to talk about my mom having a cancer and losing all of her beautiful, blonde locks. Don’t really feel like bothering others with this type of sad stories. However, Hivda probably will find out sooner or later. I mean, it’s gonna get a lot worse from here on now, before it will get better. The million dollar question here is - how long will I be able to hide my tears and reason for them from her and others.

#prose #thoughts #cancer #mom #mother #london #uk #latvia #latvian #writer #author

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