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nerdpoe · 9 months

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In the Shadow of Speculation Part 2

Part 1, Ao3

Heavy chapter, please heed the following; Blood tw vivisection tw descriptions of a flashback descriptions of a night terror descriptions of recovery abled verbiage tw self hatred tw (mild) forced parenthood equivalent (but in a ghost culture way)

Danny took a deep breath and used the Ring of Rage.

A glowing portal formed in the air before him, perfectly stable. Cold, bitter wind blew through it, along with the smell of antiseptic.

Wrinkling his nose, Danny stepped through the portal and closed it behind him.

“Oh, greetings Mr. High King! Are you ready for your check-up?” a nurse Yeti said, looking up from her clipboard enthusiastically.

Danny attempted a smile.

“I’m prepared for it, yeah.”

“Wonderful! Your friends are already in the room for moral support!”

Danny paused.

“Who-?”

“The Lady of the Green and the Lord of Innovation, of course!”

Oh thank the Ancients.

Danny nodded his thanks at the nurse and started for his assigned rooms.

Every inch of the hallways, unfamiliar before the Accident, were ingrained in his memories now.

He’d finally walked from his door to that window without help four months after waking up, and he’d been so fucking proud about it too. He’d hid behind that potted plant during his first flashback. He’d climbed out of that window and crawled on the roof just so he could feel the snow on his skin two months into Physical Therapy.

That was the yeti that had taken the brunt of his anger and hurt on his worst days, nodding at him as Danny passed. That was the room he’d pleaded with Dan to take him away from the hospital, that he couldn’t do it anymore, that he just wanted to go home-that was also the room Dan had set his foot down and said that he’d play the bad guy for Danny one last time.

And oh, how Danny had despised him for it.

But it had worked. Danny, with someone who was there for the sole purpose of taking the verbal assaults meant for his Physical Therapists and himself, who was only there to snipe back and deliberately egg Danny on, helped Danny find the energy to push forward.

And Danny still felt awful about that.

Danny passed the table he had eaten his first solid meal at, one month after waking up, and took a left.

There it was.

The door to the rooms that had been his sanctuary and his prison, right up until they hadn’t been needed anymore. The first place he’d seen when he’d woken up, and then been amazed that he’d woken up at all.

With a deep breath, Danny pushed it open.

“Hey man!”

“Danny!”

Danny’s smile was weak, and he was holding back tears in the face of so many memories he hated and adored in equal measure.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming.”

~~~~~~

Dan knew he was asleep. Dan knew he was awake. Dan knew he was somewhere in that awful inbetween.

He was in his parents basement. No, wait. They weren’t his parents. They’d never deserved the title.

He was in the Fenton’s basement.

The world kept glitching out, the colors kept melding together, and the only thing that stood out was the overwhelming feeling of disbelief and terror.

Little him was strapped to a table. Little him was strapped to a table. Little him was-

Stop.

Assess.

What was going on?

Little him was strapped to a table; he was locked in place. He was in his Core form. It was…damaged. It was damaged.

Why?

Who would…?

There was a sliver missing. They’d torn a piece of him off. They’d tried to peel him open. They’d-Little him would be crippled.

If he survived.

But he had survived, hadn’t he?

Little him’s core was strapped to a table, damaged, and there was no resonance coming from it. There were vials upon vials of ecto-blood on the tables.

That was a kidney.

That was a stomach.

There was blood on the floor.

There…there was blood on his shoes.

Dan floated off of it, listening to the dripping sounds it made as it rolled off his soles.

The door opened.

Two monsters walked through, all giant bug eyes and sharp metal knives.

Dan had two options.

He could kill the things that had done this.

Or.

He darted forward to break the straps and shoved Little him’s core next to his own, where it would be safe, where it could recover as it leeched his excess energy off of him.

The world glitched again.

Dan was standing in Jazz’s living room, hand digging into his own chest. Searching.

With a shaking breath, he pulled it out.

He’d only carried Danny’s core next to his own for two years, but he still found himself searching for it in moments of weakness.

He hadn’t been the best Spirit to host Danny’s core, but he’d fought tooth and nail to do it. Vengeance Spirits could not normally house Protective Spirits.

It was why he’d done the whole hero thing after; it would help Little him heal if he did. And when he scared the people he was saving away?

He’d opted to train the little fledgling heroes. He’d make sure they grew up safe, protected from actual villains and, if needed, their own personal ones.

Anything to make sure he didn’t have to see another kid so close to completely shattering into Nothing, he never wanted to see that shit again-

Dan forced himself to move away from the couch and towards the kitchen.

It was pointless to dwell on the past. He did everything he could; if the Twerp wanted to be next to those monsters, that was on him.

So what if he’d fucked up their relationship? At least the kid was alive.

Dan’s hands still shook as he made himself a cup of coffee.

…

Maybe he’d just check in. Just for a bit.

~~~~~~

Dan may have failed steps one through ten.

It had probably started when he’d played surrogate for the Runt, if he was completely honest. There was no way Dan hadn’t absorbed a little bit of his Protective nature.

Point was; Dan genuinely could not remember going to Arkham.

He just sort of…came back to himself while floating ominously above it.

He could see the alarm lights flashing below him. The humans running for their battle-stations.

The inmates being herded deeper into the complex.

Dan felt his eyes grow hotter, felt his claws dig into the flesh of his palms.

They were right there. Right fucking there. All he had to do was phase through the compound and just reach into their chests.

It would be so. Fucking. Easy.

In fact, he even caught a glimpse of Maddie through one of the windows.

Dan snarled, lifting a hand, the ectoplasm pooling in it hotter than anything he’d made before-

-and he was in the kitchen. Mom was trying to make hot dogs, but they kept fighting back. She was laughing at a dumb meme he’d shown her. His homework was covered in mustard from the fight with their food.

“I guess you can tell Mr. Lancer that you ‘mustard’ up every resource you had!” Dad called out as he walked by, and Dan felt so loved-

-Dan dropped the hand.

Maddie was hauled past the window and to safety.

Fuck.

Fuck this place.

Fuck this city.

Fuck everything about this situation.

~~~~~~

Batman grappled his way to the tallest watchtower in Arkham, keeping an eye on Phantom the entire time.

The guard that was already in the tower-a new hire, if he recalled-nervously stepped up to fall in line beside him.

Batman waved him off.

He knew Phantom. He knew that the man wasn’t actually a villain.

A Training Villain wasn’t something Batman had seen younger heroes needing, but when the Ghost in front of him had started play-fighting with the younger heroes to teach them through safe combat, the Bat had been mentally kicking himself.

It was a perfect job to train younger heroes, and Batman couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed the previous iterations by not realizing that.

Robin was still angry that he’d fallen for it, of course he was, but Batman could not deny that Phantom’s strange method of training had been instrumental in helping his youngest work through his rage.

Just like he could not deny that he and Phantom had something in common with Arkham.

It wasn’t hard to assume that the walls held a person responsible for the death of someone in the man’s life.

Phantom had only shown up to Arkham a total of three times.

The first time, he’d just hovered outside of it, holding his hand to his chest. He’d done nothing, and left in an hour.

The second time, two years later, he’d broken two walls and shattered a watchtower, screaming for someone to come out and face him. Robin had been on scene before Batman had time to distract him, convinced it was the same Phantom he was used to dealing with.

Surprisingly, the sight of Robin had been enough to still the beast Phantom had become. He’d toned down, forced Robin into a surprise hug, and then disappeared. Robin had been livid, but Batman had learned something about the Training Villain he didn’t think he wanted to know.

The man knew loss, and Batman was pretty sure he knew it on the same scale Bruce did.

From there, it wasn’t hard to figure out the most likely objects of his wrath.

Phantom was a Ghost. Ghosts had a very, very bad history with the American Government. The Anti-ecto acts had just been revealed to the public by Lois Lane, and the country was tearing itself apart.

The people who had been the most avid supporters had been, currently were, the Dr.s Fenton.

Who were housed in Arkham.

Batman had said nothing. He had gone back to the cave and quietly updated Phantom’s file, and left it at that.

The third time was the present.

Phantom had almost lost his temper. Almost.

But he’d reigned it in.

“Phantom,” Batman started, staring at the figure above him, “I know you can hear me. What’s happened?”

The Ghost stayed where he was for one hundred and twenty seconds, before slowly gliding down to the Bat.

Phantom did not say anything.

He did not have to.

His eyes were anywhere, everywhere, but where he actually was. When he actually was.

Batman quietly hissed through his teeth.

Alright then.

“I’m here if you want to talk, otherwise we can be silent. Just know that at this moment, you are not alone.”

Phantom chose silence for a good seventeen minutes.

Then Phantom opened his mouth.

“I should hate them,” the voice was halting, tired, “I should, I really should. They loved me so much, but they…they tore him apar-“ Phantom’s voice failed him.

Batman said nothing, and gave the Ghost time to collect himself.

While he waited, he compartmentalized what he’d learned. The Fentons had torn apart someone very, very important to Phantom.

And Bruce had an awful feeling that he meant that literally.

“I can’t be here,” Phantom said instead of finishing his previous thought.

Batman nodded.

“You didn’t hurt anyone this time, so go; I see no reason to stop you.”

Phantom didn’t grace Batman with a goodbye, but the Bat swore he felt an invisible hand squeeze his shoulder after the Ghost vanished from sight.

~~~~~~

Danny laid on the examination bed, one hand being held by Sam while Tucker lounged on the bed at Danny’s feet. They were talking about their new companies, how the world was changing, and distracted Danny while Frostbite examined his vivisection scarring.

Danny looked everywhere but Frostbite as the yeti pushed and prodded. He didn’t want to look at his chest if he didn’t have to, but he also didn’t want the embarrassment that was accidentally meeting his doctor’s eyes in the middle of a physical.

“Fantastic news, Young Savior,” Frostbite said, interrupting their idle chatter, “Your core, while still healing, is recovering at a phenomenal rate. Truly, Lady Gotham is good on her word! At this pace, your core should be fully healed in a mere century!”

Danny hated that. He hated that it needed to heal, and he hated that he was going to outlive his friends.

Sam and Tucker leaned a little closer, offering comfort for something that they knew the Ancient before them wouldn’t understand.

“Better news, the physical damage appears to be almost completely healed. The regrown kidney and stomach are showing no signs of failing, and the scarring should be the only nuisance. I recommend the afore-mentioned stretches and lotion to help the scar tissue conform with your movements.”

Danny nodded, sitting up as Frostbite stepped back and removed his hand from inside Danny’s torso.

“I also see no issue with your residual limb, although it does appear you’ve been forgetting to remove the prosthetic often enough to cause some light bruising. Can’t say I don’t understand, but perhaps write a reminder and pin it on your bedroom wall.”

Danny avoided Sam’s flat look.

Tucker just flashed his phone screen at Danny, the words ‘I can make you something really cool with rockets it you let me’ sprawled across the screen.

Danny absorbed Sam’s flat look and mirrored it towards Tucker.

Tucker threw up his hands.

“Ancients forbid I do anything, I guess,” the techie sighed dramatically.

Once Danny pulled himself together and got ready to leave, Tucker threaded an arm around his own.

“So, wanna go ding-dong-ditch Walker?”

Danny paused, then grinned; and for the first time in two weeks, it wasn’t a lie.

~~~~~~

Danny waved back at Sam and Tucker as they went through their own portals. They would definitely have to get together and hit the town on Earth.

Danny walked through his own portal and ran face-first into a mass of muscle.

Dan steadied him as he bounced back.

Danny was immediately hit with conflicting, very confusing emotions.

He was looking at Dan, his enemy. He was looking at his father? No, it was Dan. Wasn’t that the same-?

Danny shook his head. He’d never gotten a straight answer about why his Ghost self’s view on Dan had changed so dramatically; everyone always shied away from the question.

“Can I ask what you’re doing in my apartment?” He asked instead, stepping back and closing the portal.

“Just making sure you’re settling in, Tiny.”

“We’re the same height?”

“Nah, we’re not.”

Danny shoved the absurdity of their interaction in the back of his head and made for his couch.

“Well, whatever you’re doing here, here’s to hoping it involved making dinner,” he groaned, sinking into the cushion and pulling up his left leg to start the tediously cumbersome process of pulling it off, “because per the doctor, I’m supposed to keep the prosthetic off for the rest of today.”

“I was gonna order out. Move, we’re watching Sailor Moon.”

Danny whined pitifully when Dan physically picked him up and moved him to the side.

He fought his instincts, and his instincts won.

He leaned back and allowed Dan to take the prosthetic off, clawed fingers delicate for all that the man snarled under his breath.

He also allowed the man to commandeer the TV; not something he would even allow Jazz to do.

“Why do I let you do these things?” Danny muttered, eyeballing the quasi-villain on his couch as said villain massaged the stump just below his knee.

Dan snorted.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Ugh, no one tells me anything.”

“We’re pacing you,” Dan corrected, blunt for all that the words were careful, “when you’re back on your feet, you’ll get the non-vital details we skimmed.”

Danny didn’t bother arguing; he’d already tried for the better part of the previous year. For some reason, the yetis took Dan’s side, too.

Instead, they fell into a companionable silence, appreciating Sailor Moon. Which was fine by Danny, since he never knew how to behave around Dan. It was only interrupted by the delivery of the Greek food Dan had ordered out.

Danny was on his second Gyro when Dan finally broke the silence.

“So I heard there was a rogue attack outside your apartment,” he said idly, and Danny could feel his eyes on him.

“Yeah.”

“So you got to see the Bats in action?”

“…Yeah.”

Dan leaned in, eyes going critical.

“What needs improvement? Don’t lie; that ‘yeah’ was one that means you weren’t impressed.”

Danny shrugged.

“I dunno, just…they didn’t have someone who’s only job it was was to evacuate the people, or help the injured. It was just offense, no defense.”

Dan snorted and leaned away.

“Kept telling that to Robin, but no; ‘Father this’ and ‘Father that’.” Dan shook his head, chewing thoughtfully on his rack of lamb. “So. What are you gonna do about it?”

Danny blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve seen what they need, and I’m not stupid enough to think you’ll stay out of the game forever. What are you gonna do about it?”

Danny looked down at his Gyro, frowning.

What was he gonna do about it?

He couldn’t fight, not like he used to, not really. But if the Bats were tanking, then…he probably wouldn’t really have to.

“I’ve been in medical facilities for almost a year,” Danny said slowly, ignoring how Dan stiffened next to him, “I think I’ve picked up a few things. Frostbite would probably be thrilled if I asked him to teach me, honestly.”

Dan relaxed, humming thoughtfully around the bone he was chewing on.

“I think…I’ll be a medic.”

@simplestoryteller @gildedphoenix I do not suffer PTSD, and I've never had a life-altering injury. That said, I know people who have, for both of those. I apologize if my descriptions are off. Here's some notes to piece together what this chapter outlines, for those that want the sparknotes as to what Dan is alluding to. From my notes; "Ghosts can carry another ghosts core if that core is injured, to protect and promote healing. Typically, the father or mother figure does it. In this particular instance, Dan did it. We will see in a bit, but for Dan their relationship went from enemies-warden-person I gotta apologize to-person I’ve got to save-the core housed next to mine-son. For Danny, it randomly went from enemies to ‘why do I think dan is my dad more than I think my dad is my dad’." This is where the "forced parenthood" tw comes into play, because Dan felt like he had to do it, and due to instinct Danny subconsciously got dragged along for the ride. Also, if it wasn't clear from the age list on the first chapter and the timeline presented, I'm playing around with Lian and Roy's timeline; Dan's first year he babysat her, and then she died. She came back only four weeks prior to Danny re-entering the human world.

#in the shadow of speculation #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #blood tw #vivisection tw #flashback tw #night terror tw #descriptions of recovery #physical therapy mention #self hatred tw #abled verbiage tw #forced parenthood tw #healing through helping others #past abuse #past torture

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thepeacefulgarden · 6 months

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#letting go #detachment #onward to good things #relationships #career #work #divorce #breakup #moving forward #healing #recovery #mental health #self care #self compassion #self care is not selfish #martyr is not in your job description

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catastrxblues · 25 days

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EVERMORE by taylor swift (feat. bon iver) — “and i was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step. and i couldn’t be sure, i had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be forevermore.”

my #swiftiegiftexchange2024 for @lovesickallovermybed!!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

#HIII HII HII how are you <3333 SO sorry for being slightly to the party but HII #i saw that you are currently recovering from surgery and i‘m wishing you all the best and =a faster recovery 💗💗 i hope you’re okay and #are feeling and getting much better every day 💗💗💗#i’m your anon swiftie and it was really nice to get to know you!! 🫶🏽 you’re super super talented and your gifs are so so STUNNING #it was such an honor to be your anon for this event and i had such a fun time making this !#i was SO excited when i saw that some of your favorite ts songs are evermore and idsb. really really sorry i didn’t have the time to make #something for both because my laptop went dead for sometime and i ended up only having the time to make this 😭#evermore the song is something i hold and cherish deeply in my heart too and it was something that has seen some of the worst of my days #and so i decided to do this song for your gift instead!#i can’t really gif much and couldn’t even try #because my laptop in which i had installed ps in went rip so i decided to make you this #(slightly messy sorryy) scrapbook of my view of the song! i tried to incorporate some of the descriptive lyrics and the objects mentioned i #the song and i hope you like it 😁!#and because i think evermore is also something that IS meant to be incredibly personal to the people that listen to it #i decided to include some photos (+added highlights on every lyric that has ever touched me which is almost everything as you can see 😭)#of some of my journal pages on which i rewrote the entire lyrics (except bon iver’s addition 😅) in ‘21 when the song meant to me the most!#i hope you're having a great dayy love 🫶🏽🫶🏽#SwiftieGiftExchange2024 #taylor swift #tswiftedit #evermore #*my edits #nadine.mp3

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fatuismooches · 4 months

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I love the hypothetical playable Reader and Dottore.... so I wanted to add my own thing to it :D the namecard!!!! It's a little boring but I like to imagine its foxttore with a lil butterfly reader on his nose...

And an outfit/costume for them!!!! Maybe either webttore and reader whos dressed in something matching!! or them from the akademiya... agdfaugsihdhoohdf im going insane im skittering across the floor and eating your carpet - 🐓

OH MY GOSH YES... THE NAMECARD RAHH!! Ahh that's so cute... There's a big Foxttore in the middle and the background also has rows of small Puffttores... :D bonus points if Foxttore is wearing Dottore's lil vial earring!! That'd be super cute! And the butterfly is perched all cutely on his lil nose, taking a rest from the world, while Foxttore just looks at it curiously (it would die for you)... <3

AND YES THE OUTFITS!! Okay veryyy self indulgent or whatever... but I imagine when reader becomes playable they get a redesign and their new outfit is composed of different things from the segments, small and only noticeable if you knew them but still there. Dottore's blue wearing hanging somewhere, a pink bow from Webttore hidden as well, uhh idk something from Zandy as well and maybe a little piece of Alpha's Akademiya uniform... >.< idk i just think it'd be super cute for them to carry a piece of the segments everywhere... yeah.

THE MATCHING OUTFIT IDEAS ARE ENDLESS... you two getting your uniforms modified like Lisa did... 😭❤️ (the idea of you two just randomly chilling in Sumeru with the uniform is KILLING me though. Other scholars approaching you two because they've never seen you around 😭. I think Alpha would be best suited for this because I don't think the other segments have any interest in going back there. 😭) rah just imagine... matching fancy ball outfits... mhm... Dottore having his crow/raven motifs while you have your sparrow/butterfly ones 🥰

#smooches talks #🐓 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #REAL!! maybe the description/name of the card would be #[name]: recovery - there will come a day when they will be able to fly once more.#playable reader <3

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jackgoodfellow · 1 year

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(Fujiko is dreaming of all the ways she is going to use her new boobs for evil. And she should! As a treat!)

[original comic]

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we-were-so-beautiful · 4 months

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3. taxi

oh man, this one FOUGHT me y'all. so much cutting and pasting. I am not even kidding when I say that everything that happens in this chapter was supposed to be part of the last one, and I gave up and cut that one off early because I was sick of trying to finish this part. and now this is my longest chapter yet. you know, out of all three of them. at 1.3k. lol. I am not, how do you say, fast. but I was hoping I'd be able to get a chapter written over christmas, and I'm really proud of myself for finishing it!

Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, cage mention, rampant classism. As always, please tell me if there's anything else I need to tag.

[masterlist] [chapter two] [chapter four]

“Okay I know they’re supposed to be expensive but what can you possibly be charging this much money for.”

“Adoption fees are to offset the cost of room, board and medical care while at the facility,” the employee parrots, without so much as the decency to look ashamed.

“He does not look like he has had literally any of those things while he’s been here. Or possibly in his entire life.”

“Ma’am, if you cannot afford the adoption fee, then you cannot adopt a Pet.”

“Oh, I can afford it,” Vanessa growls, handing over a very shiny credit card before her mouth can get her in enough trouble to stop the employee from taking it. She bites her lip until she tastes copper to keep from saying, I’d just rather put it towards something that isn’t blatantly and obviously going right back into Worldwide Rehabilitative Un-fucking-limited’s pockets despite the fact that this is supposed to be a goddamn government facility.

Harm reduction, she reminds herself. Paying extortionate fees to kill shelters is still harm reduction. It’s the unsavory truth, but it doesn’t make the blood in her mouth taste any sweeter.

“Sign here,” the woman says, handing her credit card back along with a digital pad and stylus, and Vanessa cracks her wrist before she takes them. It’s sore and snapping like a glowstick from the mountain of paperwork she’s already been made to sign since the employee unceremoniously hauled the man on the floor behind her down from his double-high-stacked wire crate. She can’t decide whether to consider it an obscenely large amount, or an obscenely little one for all that it represents.

She can’t think about it too hard. Can’t draw too much of her own attention to the fact that she’s really doing this, or she might just run screaming back out into the grey-tinted autumn afternoon, and then where would this guy be?

She scribbles her name on the touchpad, and just like that… it’s done.

—

“Don’t forget your leash and collar,” the employee reminds her.

“I won’t be using those,” Vanessa says, with all the imperious rich-lady self-assurance she can fake.

“You will if you don’t want to be liable for civil and/or criminal penalties up to and including the permanent forfeiture of your right to Pet ownership,” the woman drones like she’s rattling it off from a handbook, and nobody has the right to own a person but even Vanessa knows better than to argue the system with someone who literally works for it.

She grinds her teeth as she takes the lengths of bulky blue nylon from the woman. She crouches beside the man, who’s bent himself into an odd kneeling fetal position on the cold tile floor. “Sorry,” she whispers as she slides the coarse material around his throat, feeling his pulse beat harsh and rapid underneath. She hopes she’s being quiet enough that the employee won’t hear her talking to him like a person—because he is a person, goddamnit—but she knows better than to trust her own volume. Best if she can get the fuck out of here with him now, before she makes a mistake.

She really doesn’t want to lead this dude crawling down the street like an animal. Doesn’t want to imagine what people will think. But she asks him, “Can you stand?”, and he makes a sound like a choking dog, and so much for both their dignity, she fucking guesses.

“Ugh, fine, whatever, just… come on.”

—

Fuck standing, the guy can barely support himself on all fours. His joints threaten to buckle at every step as Vanessa urges him out onto the chilly sidewalk. Coat of dirt aside, he’s got nothing on him but a pair of boxers as filthy as he is and that godawful blue collar, and when his bare skin meets the frigid pavement his body clenches so hard she can practically hear his teeth slam shut.

She looks at the unwashed man before her, shivering hard enough to rattle his bones in the cold October air. Looks at her thick brown coat. Ugh, she likes this coat, the lining is stitched in in all the right places to keep the texture of the shell from making her want to climb out of her own skin and no amount of dry cleaning in the world is going to convince her to put it on again once it touches… whatever the fuck is all goddamn over this guy. She sighs and shrugs it off.

Fuck fuck fuck it’s cold. She’s shivering herself in just plain blue jeans and her second favorite Cure t-shirt. But a million “if you’re cold, they’re cold!” memes flash through her mind and she grumbles aggrievedly and drapes the wool coat over his massive, gaunt frame. This dude has like a foot on her standing, she remembers when the lapels will barely pull around his shoulders. She’s gonna have to shake Austin down for clothes.

God, it feels beyond fucked up to have a person on a leash, and it doesn’t help that the cheap blue nylon feels plasticky in her hand and she hates the texture. She can’t imagine how much worse it must feel around the throat of the shuddering man before her. She’s taking the damn thing off him as soon as she gets him home, she’ll get him a better one if Roselle can’t find her a loophole and she absolutely fucking has to, but when the fifth or sixth cab passes her by without even slowing down she starts to wonder how the hell she’s going to get him home at all.

—

“You want to go to the corner,” the employee says boredly, not so much as looking up from her newspaper when Vanessa shoulders her way back through the door.

“You what?” Vanessa echoes.

“The corner. Better if you go another block or two, even. Cabs don’t stop in front of the shelter.”

Of course they don’t, Vanessa thinks.

She hipchecks the door back open and returns to the stupid goddamn hitching post they so conveniently provide along the front wall of the shelter, where she’s awkwardly strung up the loop of the stupid blue leash. “Hey, uh, dude? I’m gonna go up the street a bit, okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He barely acknowledges that he’s heard her, curled back up under her coat in that same odd position with his forearms tucked into his chest. “...not that you would,” she adds dubiously, before power-walking away to the next block.

Vanessa hisses through her teeth in the bleak grey air and rubs at her goosebump-riddled arms, but true to the employee’s disaffected word it’s only a matter of minutes this time before a cab driver catches her wave and pulls over. “Thanks,” she says as she tumbles in. “I’m going back to the Heights. Need to pick someone up first, though. Just on the next block.”

The driver looks skeptical, but he rolls down the quiet street all the same—until he clocks the shelter just as Vanessa tells him to stop. “No. Nuh uh. No way. I don’t let Pets in my cab.”

“I’ll double your fare. Up front.”

The driver shakes his head, staring revulsed in the direction of the hitching post. “Not worth all that crud on my seats.” Oh. Great. He’s seen him.

“What if I cover the seats. Newspaper.”

The driver sizes her up with a calculating gaze, one elbow propped on the back of his seat, and somewhere in the middle of wanting to punch him for looking at her she finds herself wishing for once that she’d dressed… richer. Finally, he grouses, “Triple fare. And the meter’s runnin’ while ya cover ‘em.”

“Fine,” Vanessa spits, and sprints out with the door wide open before he has time to change his mind.

She barges into the shelter one last time, hopefully the last fucking time in her life if she has any say in it. Leaning over the counter, with a grin that’s probably a little too smug for her to be proud of, she snatches the newspaper directly out of the apathetic employee’s complicit hands.

taglist: @maracujatangerine @pigeonwhumps @tragedyinblue @marchtothefuckingsea @octopus-reactivated @briars7

#whump #pet whump #rescue whump #recovery whump #bbu #box boy universe #vanessa + juniper #disaster caretaker #imperfectly consistent #tw dehumanization #tw classism #I feel like I'm writing more plot than whump here #like I could be leaning way more into descriptions of what dude's experiencing but I'm just trying to get through all these fucking scenes #the not leaning into whump part is unsurprising but the concerning bit is that I can't actually write plot. at all #so if that's what's supposed to be holding this together then well. uh.#we'll see how that goes I guess lol #oh I almost forgot!#points to whoever catches my wru mention #it's probably not subtle lmao #I just wanted to do something a lil different #ps idk what the fuck happened to my section dividers #but tumblr seems to have retconned it into my previous chapters as well #so it's probably not something I can fix lmao #btw if it wasn't obvious. I've never been to nyc in my life and I have no idea how anything works including taxis #just pretend they invented box boys instead of ride shares I fucking guess #@ my ass writing a novel in the tags instead of writing. you know.#the actual novel

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 2 years

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Image ID:

The words, "late night reminders" written in gold block letters and "for when your brain is being mean to you" written in smaller white block letters underneath. Under that, there are six drawings with text under each one, 3 in each row:

a crescent moon with "you are deserving of love." Beside, there's a cloud with "everyone doesn't hate you." Beside that, there are 3 "z"s indicating sleep with "you are capable of so much." The second row contains stars with "what you are seeking will come to you," a planet with "what others did to you isn't your fault," and the big dipper constellation with "you aren't a failure."

Source

#positivity #mental health #recovery #healing #self love #self care #coping #q #captioned #image id #image description #described #mod misa #i hope the image id is okay #source linked in post

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thinkingjasico · 3 months

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Summary: Since graduating from high school Jason had been making a lot of unwise decisions: Like agreeing to be Nico's fake boyfriend, then traveling to New Rome and hide from his best friend and fake boyfriend that he was having his top surgery.

Relationship: Nico di Angelo/Jason Grace

Words: 48, 660

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Trans Jason Grace, Solangelo break up, No explicit smut and it's just one scene, Domestic Fluff, Touch-Starved Jason Grace, Forced Proximity, Sharing a Bed, Hidden Injury, Scars, Sharing Clothes, Making Valentines Gift, Holding Hands, Descriptions of scars and recovery from top surgery, Yes I think Drew and Nico should be best friends, Jason is basically a puppy and I love him!, Jasico - Freeform, Both of them have POV's, Trans Author

#jasicobingochallenge2024 #fake dating #trans jason grace #domestic fluff #touch-starved #forced proximity #sharing a bed #hidden injury #scars #sharing clothes #making a valentines gift #holding hands #fanfiction #trigger waning for descriptions of scars and recovery from top surgery #jasico #thunderworld #jason grace #nico di angelo #jasico fic

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uncanny-tranny · 10 months

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You ever just have a realization in recovery, and it makes you literally go:

#recovery #described images #image description in alt #i recently made a pretty Big realization about the way i write because i use writing very much wrt processing my past + emotions #and it's like... it should have been obvious! but i just kind of... hid from how obvious it was you know?

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ahaha-ahahaha · 5 months

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I'm gonna be honest I forgot she existed but I'm still thoroughly disappointed with her design. come on hoyo.

reblogs > likes

#sorry if the image description doesnt make sense. i think it does but i have a shitty cold and i also typed all of this with one hand #bc my other is holding a tissue to my nose #wish me a speedy recovery #anyway i thought it was so funny when she just threw childe and the narwhal into what i assume is the abyss #skirk #genshin impact skirk #not my skirk #genshin 4.2 #genshin 4.2 spoilers #skirk redesign #genshin impact #artists on tumblr #digital art

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a-witch-in-endor · 1 year

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What is a prescriptivist?

Linguistic prescriptivism is a framework of understanding language that essentially comes down to: there are rules, idiot.

#and then with increasing frustration as people break the rules:#there are RULES #IDIOT #anyway as a lover of grammar systems I happen to be a big fan of rules in language #but #you know #that's not how language actually works #the rules are just descriptions of the way in which the language is used by its speakers #so I'm in recovery from linguistic prescriptivism

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thepeacefulgarden · 3 days

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ed-recovery-affirmations · 8 months

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Hi ! I don't know if this is a vent, a question or anything else, but I needed it out and I needed to be understood. (I prefer to warn you that I will be talking about weight, not in precise numbers but still, and just negativity):

So, I'm in recovery, after a relapse. For my first time recovering, I ate with no restriction, everything and anything I wanted. I had lost maybe 10kg, and was very close to, well, dying, so I think eveything went really fast, as it needed to, you know. After two months, I had no fear foods or anything anymore, I did not care much about my body. But one day, left alone at home, I don't know why, I weighted myself, to see I was at my normal weight again. And I don't know, I didn't expect it, and I really panicked. I couldn't tell, nobody could, because I am naturally very lean and honestly the weight gain was not very visible (except for the fact that I was more lively and a little less bony).

So I relapsed, for one whole year again I think. I'm very sad about all the time I wasted. But now, each time I want to recover, I'm so afraid. I'm reminded of all the nights after relapsing blaming myself for getting ''like this'', being ''disgusting'', taking picture and pinching my skin and crying and crying so much. I'm afraid this will just be the same cycle over and over again.

The problem is I want to recover, I want my life, but 1, I'm scared of it, as I fear I will relapse and be in pain again, and 2, an eating disorder is very comforting and I find peace in that (I know it is messed up).

For some months, I've been able to eat more and be more relaxed about this by aiming at a lean and a bit muscular body type, in a healthy way. I read nutrition books and I try more and more to include carbs (wich I forbid myself or felt guilty about), protein, ect, and I tell myself I'm doing this for something healthy. I exercice a bit less than I did before and now install rest days, things like this.

But I still can't look at my body. Every time I put on something and it feels different (maybe just an impression, maybe because I've been working out to get toned legs, I don't know), I panic. Just now, I tried on a pant and it suits me but I'm paranoid it's more tight than before.

I tell myself I'm getting muscle, it's normal. I tell myself that my body knows what is is doing and that maybe it is normal that my body won't be exactly the same than is was when I ate nothing, or than my 17 years old body (I'm 19 now). But I still can't wear many things, I still can't walk normally in fear of my legs touching or sleep without a pillow between them. I'm so exhausted of this.

What can I do to let go? I have no idea. I want to be okay again and to simply go on with my life without my thought going aroud only my body and food. Yes, I want to eat healthy (of course with balance), I want to do sports (because I like it and because I know what I want to look and feel like), but I don't know how to let go of this disordered way of thinking about it.

I am moving out of my home in two days, and going to live alone in a flat for my studies. I am scared that, without anyong reassuring me, without imposed meals and help, I will break out and eat nothing, having to start on square one again.

If you can help me, in anyway, if you have an idea of what I could do, please, do tell me, as I am desesperate and scared of how I will manage all of this. (and thank you for reading this massive thing)

Hi anon! I know it took me a few days to get to this, but I hope getting this all out helped you somewhat.

First of all, you don't lose your progress or waste anything when you relapse. I know it feels like it, because you spend so much time trying to get yourself out of a bad place, and put in so much work, and then you have to work hard to get out of the hole all over again. There's a lot of shame, frustration, and hopelessness wrapped up in that, I imagine. But you didn't forget what you learned while you were healing, did you? You can take up the journey again and resume learning. You are worth it, even if you have made mistakes and slipped up as so many of us have before. Beating yourself up and calling yourself disgusting won't help - you cannot hate yourself into a person you will love. Why not instead look at your body when it's suffering and treat it like you would a small child in distress? "You are really struggling! I had better take good care of you now." Same with your emotions when you are hating on yourself and your body. "You are having a very hard time! I'd better take good care of you."

I don't know what to tell you about the body image stuff because I honestly still struggle with it. I'd just continue telling yourself that it's healthy and good to grow and change. That you will not deprive your body of its natural journey out of hatred. Perhaps you can also prepare yourself some nutritious snacks and meals ahead of time, like bulk cooking, and set yourself phone reminders to eat that fit in with your day? Only you can hold yourself accountable to do this.

But it sounds like in order to address the impulse to restrict, you need to address the self-hatred and self-frustration you seem to want to cope with via restriction. If you can't do body positivity, maybe try body neutrality, but there's also the general frustration you frequently have toward yourself. How can you talk kindly to yourself, and guide yourself like you would a small and vulnerable child? You wouldn't speak to the child cruelly, even when the child made a mistake, right? You wouldn't fail to notice all the unique personality traits that make the child who they are. Their interests, hobbies, and unique self-care needs - you would make these things available to the child, wouldn't you? Perhaps you can incorporate these self-care activities into eating and make time to truly enjoy your food and your self-care activity, just unwinding if you're able to get some downtime during that meal and making it into something you look forward to every day, because you are spending quality time with yourself.

Perhaps you can find online or in-person support groups in your area. Do you have a therapist you can check in with about supporting your eating schedule? Who else can be in your support system? What can the people in your life, far and near, do to be supportive of your mental health?

No matter what, don't be too discouraged by struggles. That one meal you stress during because instead of getting to sit with yourself, you have to get work done while you eat today. The surprise invitation to go out and eat with friends when you haven't practiced that. The urge to relapse (so many of us feel it!)

Oh, and take yourself shopping if you need to. Go thrifting if money's tight, but allow yourself to buy new clothes that make you feel good if the old ones are triggering you. Remember, weight naturally fluctuates and if you lose or gain some you can get more clothes. It's so hard for me to let go of old clothes that no longer fit me, but giving yourself permission to get clothes that feel good for you is SO liberating even if it's really, really hard.

I hope this helps!

#ed cw #restriction cw #body image #ana cw #body description #weight mention #long post #advice #self care #healing #recovery is not linear

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