TordTom [Eddsworld] Oneshots

🍄Leave Me Alone, Commie🍄

Contains triggering subjects (maybe??) and uncensored swearing. You have been warned!

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All phrases in Norwegian are labeled with a small number after them, and can be found translated into English at the bottom of this chapter! OuO

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Oh yeah nothing like throwing your insecurities into a gay ass oneshot as a form of venting 😎👊

Sorry for taking nearly a century to upload on this story again, I've been dealing with alot of school-related pressure and I've been buried under a big ol' artblock/writersblock 👀💦

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No POV.

The boy's eyelids hung half-lidded over his voided eyes, his appearance giving away his fatigue.

He sat up slowly, cracking his back with a groan of discomfort. He ruffled his drooping hair, throwing the layers of blankets off of his body with a grunt.

Glancing at his digital clock, he rubbed his eyes, realizing it was nearly 12:00AM. The warm smell of food wafted from the kitchen, where he assumed Edd was making breakfast for the group.

He contemplated leaving his room to go eat with them, but as he heard a muffled fit of laughter break out, he decided he should let them continue their good morning, because his communist roommate would only cause him problems, and then play the victim long enough to convince Edd and Matt that Tom was simply a bad roommate.

Tom didn't even remember the last time he spent a day in this household without being blamed for another's (usually Tord's) actions.

The boy always kept his mouth shut when his roommates scolded him in fear of being kicked out of their house. Yes, he could easily afford his own place (Tom is a fairly successful online music artist/he makes money off of his songs), but he'd be all alone. Edd and Matt were really all he had, due to his parents being deceased, his other childhood friends no longer remembering him, and him having no knowledge of any of his other relatives.

He sighed, listening to them banter through the door. Edd and Tord were probably starting a bloodbath over the last piece of bacon. Tom sighed, knowing they certainly didn't save anything for him.

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Toes tracing the linoleum flooring, Tom ran a comb through his messy swathe of spikes. He couldn't remember the last time he pampered himself like this - well, if you consider brushing your hair, washing your face and showering 'pampering'.

He hadn't left his room in weeks, just leaving once every 4am and 11pm to brush his teeth (he may be considerably lazy, but he's still sensible enough to fight off cavities) and perhaps grab a small portion of food.

He hated being around others, always scared that today will be the day he gets in a fight again. Edd and Matt stayed slightly more distant from him, seeming to favor one another (and Tord) more than the blue Brit. Poor guy.

Tom, instead of interacting with others as a well-functioning human being should, stayed tucked away in his room all day, either asleep or practicing Susan.

Er, he did practice Susan, at least. He ran out of motivation to do anything, eventually deciding to take a break from the musical arts and retire his beloved bass to it's leather case until inspiration struck him again.

He hadn't realized how long he'd been standing there, brushing his hair until a small snap grabbed his attention.

Pulling his hand back, he looked at the broken comb, dangling off the edge of his palm.