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#or maybe not trauma

kingofdandelions · 10 months

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Heavy, beuatiful bracelets

I have always had two bracelets on my wrists They are a bit heavy, and a bit sharp I think that’s how they’re supposed to be

My mom and dad also have bracelets Shiny, colorful, beautiful bracelets just like my own They don’t ever mention the bracelets being too sharp or heavy They seem to like the bracelets a lot

I think I’m supposed to like my bracelets

Even tho their weight makes my arms sore And their shiny edges dig into my wrists Not all the time though Probably not enough times to complain about

I tried taking off my bracelets one day I hid my arms in long sleeves and put the bracelets in my pockets Only for a minute tho I liked that minute

I took my bracelets off at when I hung out with my friends I don’t think anyone noticed Nobody asked why I didn’t want the bracelets on It was nice

I took my bracelets off at school I wore long sleeves that day

Would anybody care?

It took my bracelets off at school again Nobody cared

Why am I supposed to wear bracelets if I feel more happy without them? Why am I supposed to wear bracelets if I feel safer without them Why do I feel bad for taking them off, when they’ve hurt me so much?

Now I only wear the bracelets at home At home where everyone has bracelets At home where I realize how much my hands hurt At home where I wish the bracelets never existed in the first place At home where I’m supposed to feel home

I threw my bracelets in the trash today Now I can see two red scars that I never noticed before

I think they’ll heal

#OHHH BOI #im poetrying my best #i might have made myself cry while writing this or i was crying and then started writing this #either way crying #anyways have a poem based on religious trauma #or maybe not trauma #cus i don't think the stuff i've gone through is that serios #maybe im wrong tho and im just too used to it to know #who knows #i guess you could aply the poem to other things than religious trauma too so thats nice #this is my uhhhhhh 5th attempt on poetry i think #and i think it turned out well #yeah i think its a neat piece of writitng #im allowed to compliment myself and so are you :D #wrote this and then started rereading hfwu cus i wanted to angst a bit about transphobic family and religius stuff #rereading hfwu was basically like “yup yup yup there be some religious stuff”#“oh fuck that dysphoric moment punched me in the gut by being a liiiiiiitle bit too real”#*slight envy cus benji had a supporting dad*-*immediate guilt for my jealosy cus his dad fucking died*#*immediate guilt for my jealosy cus his dad fucking died*#go read or reread hfwu right now it fukings ownnssss #what was this about again?#oh yeah poetry #yeah so poetry is fun #like you can be crying at 02:40 am cus your not really passing so dysphoria has been higher than it has been for a lot of months #and your dad doesn't accept you as trans but also still loves you and just wants you to have a nice life without “destroying your body”#so you can't even hate him cus he is a funny and nice dad who loves you but also he just said #“trans people are people with problems who change things about them to stop the problems but changing your body doesnt remove the problems-#“so they keep their problems but hey at least they have a beard now!”#and your mom suggested an all girls mormon camp #and instead of just crying you can actually take your suffering put in into a google doc and get ego boosted by it actually being kinda goo

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ruporas · 1 year

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please be true

[ID: Digital Trigun Stampede fanart of Vash and Wolfwood cradling each other. Vash is facing the viewer with his face buried in Wolfwood's shoulder, one hand grabbing at Wolfwood's neck and the other grabbing his arm. Wolfwood is facing away from the viewer and is slightly leaned away, one arm wrapping around to Vash's back, but his hand is hovering, not touching. The background is black with white and red confetti-like and petal-like shapes falling around them. ID END] ID CREDIT

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun stampede #petals and confetti do look similar...#ive been seeing a lot of suggestions that vash might lose those memories permanently and considering how he started off amnesiac about july #in trimax it'd make sense... for some reason i have a drilled in part of my brain that the trauma of losing people (specifically rem)#literally in his arms might haunt him forever #if not the memory of it - maybe the instincts of it?#no matter how tightly he holds onto them they could just as easily disappear as they did before.#5.7.23 - thank you gnomebud for the id!#ruporas art

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punkstylerecovery · 1 year

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“It could’ve been worse.” It could’ve been BETTER. It could’e been EASIER. It could’ve been lovely. It could’ve been beautiful, it could’ve been fun. It could have been simple, it could’ve made you HAPPY.

You can drown in two feet of water just as simply as you can in an ocean. Stop downplaying what happened and neglecting your feelings. Kill that idea with fire. Or at least acknowledge that what happened was bad without immediately trying to justify or dismiss it.

#trauma #trauma recovery #punkstyle #<- that's my tag #if you can't do this yet #try changing the sentence #'x was bad but it could've been worse'#NO #try 'x was bad AND it could've been worse'#it's a slight change #but it makes a difference #trust me #and maybe #one day #you'll get to the point you can drop off that part altogether #this isn't something that you can change in one day #but it's something you can work on #exercise it #like a muscle

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carlyraejepsans · 2 years

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listen. i know it sounds fucking insane coming from me but if you haven't already i need you to log onto twitter and vote for sans in the finals of the tumblr sexyman poll

sure reigensweep is hilarious. but this is more than that. this is SO much more than that i need you to see my vision. twink supreme was funny. it was the introduction. dilf supreme solidified it, but now? this meme can't physically keep going forever. it's not a matter of "if" he loses it's matter of WHEN. specifically, when it'd be funnier. and i NEED YOU to imagine how fucking HYSTERICAL it would be if reigen lost the only competition he actually had the credentials for TO SANS FUCKING UNDERTALE.

it's the perfect 3 arc structure to the perfect joke. i need you to imagine a world where that happens. i need you to imagine the memes. the art people would make. the fanart *I* could make. I'm begging you to see the bigger picture. don't let reigensweep run itself into oblivion. it could go down today, but it would go down in HISTORY. don't let the perfect setup be destroyed by commitment to the bit.

#also i promised twitter i would draw sexy sans so if this didn't convince you maybe me inflicting myself psychic trauma will incentive you #undertale #there are less than 7h less. reigen is winning by a 5% margin. WE CAN DO THIS.#i need you to understand that i am destroying over a year of my personal work of returning sans to his someguy origins #this is actively detrimental to my mission. but it's MORE IMPORTANT. IT'S TAKES THE HIGHER PRIORITY #sans #SANSSWEEP

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bizabumblebee · 5 months

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Based on a recent dorm experience I had LMAO

This was supposed to be a shitpost sketch and then I just… went off??? For some reason??? And spent 16 HOURS on it??? This is what happens when you use art to procrastinate smh.

Bonus (Not based on real events):

Original w/o text

#tf2 #my art #tw drugs #implied but still #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #should I tag ships??? it’s not intended to be romantic but maybe I’ll do it anyway #speeding bullet #jaegerbombs #bush medicine #swordvan #hop scotch #blunt trauma #haha blunt

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unclewaynemunson · 7 months

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Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #(and let them have the most boring vanilla sex forever i guess)#can you tell i'm in my soft steddie era?#I JUST NEED THEM TO BE SOFT GODDAMNIT #maybe it's my own yearning but LET THEM BE SOFT #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet #tw alcohol

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noxcheshire · 11 days

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HOT TAKE

But I like the idea of the phantom world being reincarnated into very unexpected people.

Like I still love the idea of Danny being Martha or Thomas.

Or Dani being another clone, or her being Damian, and Sam being Poison Ivy and or Martha, etc.

But I also like the unhinged nonsense of Sam being a clone in the dc world — ideally Kon, and Dani (or Dan) being Bruce, while Vlad is gasp Thomas Wayne.

HEAR ME OUT

JUST HEAR ME OUT

I just think the idea of Danny finding out that in an alternate world he married a nicer and age appropriate Vlad and had the son the guy has been demanding for so long in their world is hilarious.

The absolute mental breakdown that boy will go through: this is my son, and I love him, look at him go being a hero and kicking ass, but holy fucking Ancients above I fucked VLAD —

And on the other hand, can you imagine Bruce’s reaction? To his alternate mom being a sassy teenage boy, his alternate dad being an older guy ‘preying’ on this kid that absolutely HATES the guy, and being an absolute creep while his alt self **gestures to your choosing** is either a tiny girl menace or the biggest and meanest growling ghost that is BARELY tolerating being in the same space as the living.

But they also hate his alternate dad and would punch him into next week with Mom! Danny.

This man will being going THROUGH IT.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #dp x dc prompt #batman #I’m kinda leaning into Tucker being Starfire #I just think he deserves to blast green powers #and also be the hottest girl he’s ever seen #I’m thinking maybe Jack Fenton is Dick Greyson #still debating on the others BUT DO YOU SEE MY VISION?#DO YOU SEE WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN?#GIVE THE ENTIRE DP SIDE OF THEIR UNIVERSE TRAUMA by seeing what they could be in an alternate world of themselves #Danny is going through it too #Vlad is not seeing the picture outside of the absolute joy he has at finally having a son that is just like Danny but without the clones #Vlad: finally! I have a son! And he has your blood Daniel!#Bruce: oh my god my dad is a creep #Sam judging Kon’s everything: you’re on thin fucking ice #she likes his fit but will fist fight him over what he eats and how he acts with his crush #Either Tim is Paulina or Valarie #Sam is judging Kon’s choices

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ninyard · 14 days

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it’s kind of wonderful to watch Jeremy handle Jean’s trauma because the foxes are so used to each other being fucked up and problematic that when blood spills out of Neil’s locker and he says that he doesn’t want to talk about it they go okay fucked up but sure. Jeremy is so insistent with Jean’s issues and thinks that he just needs to talk about it and pushes and pushes and just begs him to tell him what’s going on. Because that’s the world of trauma he’s used to. He’s used to a problem shared is a problem halfed and being a shoulder to cry on that when Jean says “I’m traumatised” he thinks, “talking about it will make you feel better.”

He handles Jeans trauma with this messy heavy hand and he means so well but his version of trauma, his perspective on trauma is so far removed from the trauma the foxes or the ravens are used to. Every single minute detail Jean reveals is shocking and insane and fucked up and he’s barely scraping the surface. How do you tell someone who thinks you can talk through your problems that you’re afraid of water because you were waterboarded, or that you are so used to your body being used that it’s no longer that Jean feels as if he deserves his abuse, it’s no longer that he thinks his punishments were normal. They are facts. They are core unmoving beliefs so ingrained in him they are set into his skin like the tattoo on his cheek. They’re going nowhere. Jeremy will never understand that, and every thing Jean tells him disturbs him more than the last. He’s so empathetic and compassionate - I think if Jean told him the truth, it would destroy him. It would destroy his spirit, his belief in others, his faith in kindness. It would make him angry. It would make it impossible not to annihilate the Ravens for what they did in the dirtiest, meanest way possible.

And I cannot wait to watch that all happen.

#obviously we don’t know jer’s history yet #and maybe there’s more there #but the reaction from everyone to Jean tells me their experience with trauma is simply #nowhere near Jeans experience #tsc #tsc spoilers #Jean Moreau #Jeremy Knox #the sunshine court #jerejean

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samkerrworshipper · 16 days

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the monsters gone

part 3 of beautiful girl series -> part 1 -> part 2

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as moms)

warnings: drug addiction, drug abuse, talks of illicit substances, depression, intrusive thoughts, would not advise for people in a bad mental headspace

You wanted her to leave, or you were desperate for a fix and well aware that it wasn’t going to happen until she was gone and you could retreat up to your room like normal.

You scratched at the incision on your forearm, it was hidden underneath your hoodie but you could feel it all the same, it made you feel guilty.

You’d never felt guilty for taking drugs, why would you? It was your choice, your body, your brain that you were fucking with. Yet for some reason, the little mark that you knew was sitting right on top of your vein was making you feel guilty. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt oddly like the start of something, you weren’t sure what though, whatever it was though, it didn’t feel good.

When the door clicked open around 2 o’clock you felt far more at peace, watching your mom hobble through the door with Lia following her. Jordan stood up almost immediately and if the room hadn’t already been awkward then the awkwardness found a whole new definition as the two women looked at each other.

“Hey Jord, thanks for hanging around, you’re looking good.”

Your mom looked relieved to see Jordan, your ma on the other side looked slightly terrified as she eyed up the two women.

“It wasn’t an issue, you know I love spending time with my chick.”

Leah smiled, looking down at you on the couch, you buried your head in your phone, ignoring her gaze.

“Whether she admits it or not she likes seeing you as well.”

Your ma laughed awkwardly, it took everything in you to not burst out laughing at all of the tension between the two of them.

“Look I’ll be heading off, gotta me back in Birmingham for game review tonight but can we talk for a minute though Le?”

Your mom’s head cocked to the side, a look of curiosity evident on her face.

“Yeah sure, come with me.”

Lia watches them with the same look of curiosity as you, your eyes meeting as the trail back from the doorway to Leah’s office that they both step into.

“They’re talking about me.”

Lia doesn’t bother trying to ignore you or deny what you’re saying, she nodes her head.

“Probably, that’s what most parents do.”

It’s a absentminded answer, and for a second your aware that maybe Lia is in on whatever is happening, that she knows exactly what is going on behind the door. If anything important came from the phone call earlier you know Lia would be the first to know, she was like the third parent you never asked for nor wanted, but somehow ended up with.

“Ma thinks that Mom’s parenting is shit.”

Lia cocks her head, she’s harder to read then your moms, more calculated, more clean, less obviously emotional.

“She just disagrees with some of the things that your mother does, so do I. Nobody else is in her shoes though, she makes the decisions that are necessary and best for you.”

Lia sounds convinced of her words, even though you doubt them.

“Ma doesn’t think so.”

Lia bit down on her bottom lip, finishing with tucking her kit bag away so she could focus her attention on you.

“She worries about you.”

You did your best to suppress the eye roll, it didn’t work.

“She worries that mom is too nice and isn’t strict enough.”

Sometimes you thought that your mom compensated for the void between the two of you by letting you do whatever you wanted, other times you were reminded by your grandma that she’d told Leah she needed to go easy on you and that not everyone could be as perfect as Leah Williamson.

“Your mom knows what you need better than anybody else.”

The conversation paused, the two of you flinching at the sound of yelling from the other side of the door, you couldn’t make out what was being said, both of them were yelling though.

“Set the table for lunch for me, kiddo?”

You couldn’t pull your eyes from the door, you hadn’t hear your moms yell in a long time, it took you back to when they were breaking up, when they tried to act like they weren’t, when they saved the fighting and yelling for when you’d been tucked into bed and they’d thought you were asleep.

“Kiddo, table.”

You stood up from the couch, your eyes staying stuck to the door, even as you pulled cutlery from the drawer and laid it out with the placemats on the table. Eventually, the yelling ceased, and the room was over come with a silence like no other, only being broken by the door opening and your two moms walking out, both of them looking far more content considering that it had sounded like they were screaming at each other, not thirty seconds ago.

“Bubba, Jord is going to head off, if you want to say bye.”

Jordan’s arms opened up to you and as mad and confused as you were, you weren’t going to deny her. You walked around the table, leaning into her hug, wrapping your arms around her the same way she did for you, letting her hold on for a little bit longer.

“I’ll be back when I can chicky, I love you so much.”

You wanted to tell her she was lying, that they were all lying, they didn’t fucking love you, it was so fucking obvious. But for the sake of keeping the peace you didn’t.

“I love you too Ma.”

Jordan let go of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The same way she had when they’d adopted you when you were eight, the same way she had after your first game when you were 12, the same way she had when you were 14 and you’d been top of your form and given an award, the same way she had when she’d left for good when you were 16. It was the same kiss, yet everything about it was different, the meaning, the purpose, the intention, it was all different.

You watched as she walked out the door, the same as every time, you listened to the sound of her car starting and the sound of gravel underneath her tires as she pulled out and onto the road.

Once you were sure she was gone you turned around, sliding into a seat at the table, across from your mother, staring at her.

“What were you guys talking about?”

Leah looked at you, poker face as good as ever.

“Football, some other stuff.”

It was a obvious lie, both you and Lia knew it.

“You were talking about me, what about me?” Leah rolled her eyes at you.

“It was a conversation between your Ma and I, not for your ears.”

You didn’t bat an eye as Lia set lunch down in front of you, to fixated on your mother.

“You don’t yell over nothing, what were you talking about.”

Leah pushed her tongue out against her lips.

“Your ma had some concerns about you, that’s it, I told her she had nothing to worry about and that we were doing just fine.”

You knew that even if you didn’t want to admit it, Jordan probably had some valid points, your mom seemed unphased though.

“That’s it?”

Leah looked at you, and you could tell that she was holding something back.

“She told me that you’d told her you smoked weed last night and that you were vomiting this morning.”

You tried to keep your face from changing, keeping the confident exterior even if you were slightly scared on the inside.

“I got drunk, I had some fun, it was no biggy.”

Leah’s eyebrow rose in the trademark question.

“It’s a biggy to me because you told all you were doing was vaping and a little bit of drinking, you said you’d be honest with me and it’s clear you haven’t been.”

You hesitated for a second, the air thickening around you as suddenly the tension was between you and your mother.

“I was just having some fun mom, I didn’t do anything stupid, I was safe, just like you asked.”

Leah’s face shrivelled up as you used her words against her.

“You were out with friends I’ve never met, at a house on the opposite side of town that I’ve never been too, Jord said you looked like you’d been on a three day bender and I told her that I didn’t believe her but now you’re here admitting it.”

You reached into your pocket for your vape, desperate for something to take the edge of the conversation off, to make you feel calmer.

You pulled it out and Leah’s face immediately pointed inwards.

“How many times do I have to say no vape at the table?”

You frowned, shoving it back in your pocket.

“It was just a bit of weed mom, it’s what kids my age do.”

Leah shook her head.

“It wasn’t just a bit of weed, I’ve been smelling it on your clothes for weeks and trying to tell myself I was being delusional because you’d told me you were just on the vape, that you had no interest in drugs and yet you were lying to me, you have been for a while bubba and I don’t know how to feel about it to be honest. I thought we were closer than most parents and kids, I thought we had boundaries and that I was giving you enough space, and now I don’t know what to think.”

You pursed your lips, struggling to find words.

“And if you’re lying to me about weed then what else is there? What else is there you aren’t telling me because there has to be more. I let you drop football, I relaxed on the school because I know you were struggling but this doesn’t work if you aren’t honest with me.”

You really didn’t know what to say, your mind was in a million different places, the container underneath your bed, the joints on your windowsill hidden behind the curtains, the three vapes in your bedside table, the drug dealer numbers in your phone, what had happened last night, the meth track mark on your arm.

“Nothing, it was just some weed, I just wanted something to take the edge off, it was no big deal.”

Leah’s eyes closed for a second and you knew this was all about to get a lot harder.

“Except it was a big deal because you’ve been doing it behind my backs for weeks, I’ve tried to be understanding bubba, I have, I know it’s been tough for you with me and Jords breakup, you’ve had a really hard year, I let the vaping slide, I let your attendance drop at school, but drugs bub, it’s no joke.”

You took a deep breath.

“It’s just some weed, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Leah wants to say that if you’re this relaxed about being caught doing weed then she doesn’t want to know what else you’re hiding from her that would make you less relaxed, but she keeps it to herself, or for this moment at least.

“I want you to bring me whatever you have of it, I won’t have you smoking illicit and illegal substances underneath my roof.”

You figured there were worse things that could happen, she could find your stash, she could take your vape, she could ground you or make you go to school.

“Okay.”

Your mom nodded, happy she had at least won a small battle.

“After lunch.”

You nod again in agreeance, looking down at the caesar salad in front of you and stabbing your fork down onto it, picking up the different pieces of lettuce and chicken scattered throughout.

You make it through half the meal before you grab your bowl and pick it up, walking into the kitchen to do you washing up, your mom follows behind you, her bowl empty.

You take the dish from her, cleaning it out and stacking both of them in the dishwasher, knowing whats to come now.

You slow yourself down on the stairs giving her the time to follow behind you as she dragged her bad leg up every individual stair.

Leah had been putting in hours everyday for her rehab, it was her main focus, over everything else.

Eventually the two of you made it to the top of the stairs, and eventually to your bedroom door.

You hesitated before opening it, you couldn’t remember the last time Leah had been inside it, way before her acl, ever since she’d gotten injured she’d been avoiding the staircase.

You opened the door, hand pausing on the cold metal doorknob for a split second before pushing it open.

Your room was still freezing, you didn’t miss how your mother shivered from the breeze that hit her face immediately, coming straight from the open window.

“Jesus kiddo, you trying to replicate antarctica in here? You know I pay good money for heating, right?”

It’s a lighthearted joke, yet somehow it hurts for you, you don’t know how or why, you just know that it does.

“I like it cold.”

Leah looks at you, both brows furrowed inwards.

“Alright then polar bear.”

You try not to flinch away when her hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, it’s something she’s done to you since you were a kid, it feels wrong now though.

“Let’s just get this over and done with.”

You walk over to your windowsill, reaching behind the curtain and reaching for the bag of joints that you have stashed behind the material. Leah frowns as you walk back over to her, shoving the bag into her hands before she can even ask.

“This is all of them?”

She looks completely unconvinced, you probably would be too, most kids don’t give up their drugs willingly.

“Yes.”

Leah looks at you, eye to eye, like she’s trying to reach into your soul, or read your mind.

“Bubba, this is your chance, I’m giving you an opportunity to be straight with me, and whatever you tell me or give me I won’t be mad about. I might want to sit down and question your decisions, but I won’t be mad. Teenagers are stupid, they make mistakes, they try new things, I get it. Be honest with me bubba, please.”

You didn’t really know what Leah was insinuating, but it was clear that she knew there was a bigger picture here.

“That’s it mom.”

You had to tear your eyes away from her, you couldn’t handle the way that she was looking at you, the mix of disappointment, resentment and worry mixed into her blue irises.

“Bubba, don’t make me search your room, don’t make me have to ground you, don’t make me have to call Jord and get her to turn the car around to help me out.”

You brought your eyes back to Leah’s.

“That’s it mom, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

You were lying through your teeth and the fact you couldn’t look eye to eye with Leah would have been enough of a warning sign of that.

“Drugs bubba, that’s what I’m talking about, you’re lying straight to my fucking face right now, I don’t know what about or why but you are.”

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t going to admit it, you couldn’t, but you needed to say something. Fuck, you were so fucked.

You tried to spin it in your head, tried to think about how you could make this work out. You were caught, you were done, this was bad.

Your eyes darted to below your bed, rookie fucking mistake.

Leah caught your line of sight, and you knew as soon as she did that it was all about to go to fucking shit, that you were done for.

“Lia.”

Your mom’s voice was urgent, a yell that had the swiss woman bounding up the stairs in a matter of seconds.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were so fucking fucked.

You were frozen in your spot, your mom’s eyes looking at you like she’d just been stabbed in the heart.

“Bubba, you can get whatever you are hiding from me or I will get Lia to tear this whole room a part, I’m not fucking around.”

You felt torn down the middle, your brain couldn’t think, you felt the same sickness sink in from this morning, instead of it being withdrawals from drugs though it was the realisation that your whole life was about to be turned upside down.

You tried to think, tried to think about how you could spin this, make it a little bit better than it really was.

Lia looked more uncomfortable then possible, you wished a blackhole would randomly pop up and swallow all three of you.

Something hit you, it wasn’t a full resolution but it was better than what you currently had going for you.

You walked over to your bed, with unsteadier legs then last night when you were so drunk the world was spinning, crouching down when you got to the edge, feeling for the familiar container that held all of your deepest darkest secrets, or at least that’s how it felt.

It took you back to a time when you’d made Leah check under your bed everynight for the monsters under your bed, now though she was looking for the monsters in your head, the monsters that had turned her little perfect girl into whatever you were now.

Your hand eventually met the hard plastic, you pulled it out, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you stood up and sat down on the edge of your bed.

Leah took a couple steps closer to you, standing directly in front of you.

“Look, it’s not mine, I only did it twice, my friends bought it over, I swear.”

Half of it was true.

“Open the box, bubba.”

You felt your throat tighten, you felt like you were going to vomit, or pass out, or have a heart attack.

“Mom, I didn’t want to, I don’t even like it, I just did it because my friends were, I swear.”

It was also another half truth.

“Bubba, open the box.”

You bit down even harder on the inside of your cheek, reaching for the edge of the plastic box and opening it, revealing the two baggies of white powder inside of it.

Leah’s face fell, in a way that you’d never seen, you’d seen her disappointed before, this wasn’t it, it was something else entirely and you weren’t sure what.

“Bubba.”

Your mom was a overly emotional person, you couldn’t handle her crying right now though, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t deal with her pretending she gave a shit when this was the first time in months that it felt like she cared, and it was all because of Jordan, not on her own volition.

“I swear mom, I swear, it’s not mine, I promise.”

It wasn’t a lie, it hadn’t started out as yours, you’re friends had left it behind after a weekend hangout and had never asked for it back, so it technically wasn’t yours, technically.

“Bubba, what is it?”

Leah reached for the box, picking up the two bags, the bags that you felt like held your whole life together.

“Cocaine, it’s just a little bit of coke, my friends were using it before parties, I didn’t like it, it made me feel dizzy and it hurt my head.”

The cocaine bit was a lie, but the fact you didn’t like cocaine wasn’t, it was the kind of stimulant which put you into over drive, the high lasted no where near as long and it made you feel like you weren’t making sense.

You were hoping she would believe the cocaine, inevitably, cocaine was a pissy drug. Leah would have been at thousands of parties were cocaine was handed around, hell, you were fairly certain your mother had taken plenty of it. Cocaine was less addictive, good cocaine was also stupidly expensive, the value of it was fucked. Meth was cheap but a thousand times more addictive, cocaine was a better like.

“Lia, get rid of it.”

Your mom handed the bag of joints over to Lia, as well as the bags of drugs, shoving them into her hands like they were burning her hands. “I don’t even know what to say to you bubba.”

Your mom looked genuinely at a loss for words, her eyes kept darting between your eyes and your hands, which were shaking in front of you.

“Mom, I promise, it was only a one time thing, really, I was just keeping it for my friends.”

As soon as the tears started spilling down Leah’s face you knew it was about to get bad.

She walked over to your desk, pulling the chair out from it and dragged it across the room until it was directly in front of you, your mother taking a seat.

Her hands came out to rest on your knees, they were shaking like yours, not as badly but still shaking, though for different reasons you assumed.

“You told me the weed was a one time thing, that was a lie. I don’t know what to believe anymore, you’ve put me in a impossible situation, bubba. On one hand, I want to believe you. I want to believe the kid I raised, on the other hand you haven’t given me reason to. You broke my trust, you lied to me, you broke the house rules. I don’t ask a lot of you, I let you get away with more than your ma would let you, and I was fine with it because you were showing me you were a good kid, but now I honestly don’t know what to think. You told me it was just the vapes, I thought you were using a little bit to much nicotine and now it turns out that you’re smoking pot and doing drugs. You’ve been hiding and lying and I just don’t get why. Why bubba? Tell me why.”

Big tears were dripping from your mothers eyes, big, wet, fat tears pooling in her icey blue eyes.

“I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry mom, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry. I love you, I didn’t mean it, it was just some fun, it was a one time thing, I promise.”

Leah pursed her lips, the same way you were, the sleeve of her shirt was pressed to her face, picking up the tears that were dripping down her jaw.

“I’m going to go and call your ma, this is a discussion we need to be having together, I need her here for this.”

Little did they know how bad it really was.

Leah stood up, you thought she would just leave, heading back down to make a call to your ma that would inevitably change your life, instead, she sat down next to you, her arms opening up.

You leaned into her side, letting her wrap both of her arms around you.

“I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry.”

It was the only thing you could think of saying, the only thing that sounded right coming off the tip of your tongue.

“I love you so much my beautiful girl, we’ll figure this out, your ma and I, we’re all going to figure this out.”

Leah held onto you for a little bit longer, her arms tightening onto you like you were holding her down to earth, like she would float away if she didn’t.

Eventually she let go, her face was puffy and red, her sleeves were red and she sounded all sniffly.

“I’m going to go and phone Jord, we’re going to sort it all out, we’ll figure this out, okay? We’re both here for you, we both love you so much, you’re our little girl.”

You found it weird how easy it slipped off of her tongue, you wondered if she actually believed that she meant it, you wondered if when your mother said it that she meant it without really meaning it. There were words but there were no actions to support those words, just empty syllables and letters all formed together in a intricate lie.

You watched as Leah limped her way out of your room, her bad leg trailing behind her good one, rule number one of parenting a child you now know is drug addicted, never leave them alone in a room they can escape from when you’ve just confronted them.

#woso #woso community #sammykworshipper thoughts #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs x reader #jordan and leah #jordan nobbs #wobbs breakup #its painful #trauma dumping #tears were shed #woso imagine #woso angst #sammykworshipperfics #pain sweet pain #fluff is coming #maybe

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lets-go-hurt-someone · 27 days

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Am I the only one who actually prefers the Araj confession from Astarion? I see so many people wax poetic about the “nice, simple plan” scene and how much better it is that I want to wax poetic a little about my favourite.

The first time I played BG3, I didn’t know anything about Astarion’s background and I thought he was a jerk. When I first ran into Araj at Moonrise, I was surprised that he wasn’t interested in biting her, but he gave his reasons and I was like, damn, okay, that sucks but I’m not gonna force him to do anything. He said no, so it’s a no. Then I moved on, and genuinely thought nothing of it.

When he hit me with the Araj confession at camp, when he explained how he felt in front of her and how easy it would have been to just grin and bear it and do as he was told, I started crying. Sometimes I struggle to even put into words the emotions it brought up — not the smallest of which was the realisation that I had had more respect for this video game character that I didn’t even like at the time than a lot of people had ever had for me, a real fucking human being.

So I love absolutely everything about that scene, from the writing to the performance to all the different ways it can play out. I know the other confession is more cute and sweet and romantic, but the Araj one held up a mirror to me and genuinely made me confront myself and change how I approach intimacy. Which is kind of an embarrassing thing to say about a video game romance scene but here I am saying it.

Because if this fucking rude ass pixel boy (affectionate) can learn to be honest about his needs and limits and have them respected, then so can I, goddamnit. And that will always be so much more profound to me than a nice, simple plan that fell apart.

#maybe I just prefer ugly crying to the cute scene idk #I’ve talked about this before but it just hits me in waves sometimes #the way this game has made me feel so seen and valid for trauma I had written off as character development is wild #it’s so much cheaper than therapy but I probably need to go back to therapy lolol #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #tw: sa

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mylimoji · 19 days

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people going 'oh yoo joonghyuk is introverted and has so many anger issues, he would have made his streams worth looking at only for his looks and maybe his skills' You Don't Understand. i haven't read round of zero arc for a while, but what if that man, who isn't broken by endless regressions, is actually a pretty good entertainer? it's even canon that he constantly drops sick one liners and is pretty good with the public when he wants to be. what if he was genuinely fun person to follow on twitch. what if that man was entertaining. what if he was quirky and fun. what if he was The Jerma of the orv world. please see my vision

#orv #yoo joonghyuk #al.txt #post epilogue yjh healing from her trauma and through the power of love finding the energy to actually be fun #and quirky and hm. maybe even relaxing enough to pull pranks on people.#ough i'm making myself cry now

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