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gummybearstastelikesadness · 1 month

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When Danny enters the Fenton portal for the very first time, he still trips and shocks himself but at the same time damages the inside of the portal enough that it can’t sustain itself past the point of changing Danny’s molecules.

The electricity and damage done to both Danny and the portal isn’t something Danny, Sam, and Tucker can cover up and his parents find out immediately. They’re more concerned about their son then the portal (they have the blueprints for the portal and can rebuild it later but can’t replace their son if something happened to him) and go through a lot of things emotions regarding the existence of ghost human hybrids.

Danny’s new biology could easily be passed as meta human traits. Unfortunately President Lex Luther had just recently passed laws against meta humans. Meaning they can’t risk people find out about Danny’s new powers, at all. The Fentons decide that Danny should live with one of Maddie or Jacks relatives off grid until he can control his new abilities better.

luckily Jacks sister, Martha, and her husband have experience with a super powered child and after their son moved to the city could probably use a hand on their farm. All Jack needed to do was call.

#dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #jack fenton #martha kent #Danny wondering why his parents have so many relatives he never really sees #All the relatives that never forgot when Jack and Maddie hosted Thanksgiving Dinner before Danny or Jazz were born #bonding with your estranged relatives over turkey battling related trauma #Martha hasn’t let Jack visit the farm after he made the tractor sentient back in 87 #Danny discovering Superman is his farm boy turned reporter cousin and can never take any of the metropolis villains seriously anymore #Martha and Jon thinking they have a break from raising a super powered teenage: Danny showing up phased halfway through their front porch #unrelated but I’m not sure how much sense this actually makes (I’ve had a high grade fever all week and know I’ve been out of it)

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fatphobiabusters · 6 months

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Fat people deserve to enjoy feasting holidays just as much as thin people.

Fat people, eat what you want today. Allow yourself a second plate. Take home leftovers. Don't force yourself to be last in line for food. Shut down diet and weight talk. Tell the people who try to start it that it makes you uncomfortable. Wear what you like to dinner. Enjoy dessert. Do not tell yourself to "make up" for this meal tomorrow.

You are inherently allowed and deserve to eat food because you are a living, breathing human being, and no one can take that away from you. Anyone who says otherwise about you and your right to nourish yourself is valuing thinness over your literal survival needs. Their opinion is trash and should be thrown out with the rest of the garbage.

Stay strong today. The diet culture and fatphobic talk will be in full force, but you are stronger, and your needs are more important than the bigoted opinions of judgemental friends or family members.

You've got this.

-Mod Worthy

#fatphobia #trauma healing #fat liberation #fat positive #internalized fatphobia #thanksgiving #winter holidays #diet culture #Mod Worthy

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thepeacefulgarden · 1 year

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This Thanksgiving, remember...

You are allowed to take shortcuts.

You are allowed to do less.

You are allowed to ask for help from your family, friends, or partner.

You are allowed to (graciously) accept any help they give you.

You are allowed to leave the table when Uncle Bob gets up on his soapbox.

You are allowed to have seconds.

You are allowed to have fats and carbs.

You are allowed to have dessert.

You are allowed to have an imperfect holiday.

You are allowed to skip Thanksgiving with the fam and practice self care.

You are allowed to spend Thanksgiving with people other than your family of origin.

You are allowed to grieve, and to make space for that grief.

You are allowed to have dinner catered, instead of making it yourself.

You are allowed to use prepared foods instead of making everything from scratch.

You are allowed to make it a potluck instead of doing everything yourself.

You are allowed to boycott Thanksgiving on principle if you wish.

You are allowed to express gratitude in ways meaningful to you.

You are allowed to attempt to steer conversations in more appropriate directions.

You are allowed to change the subject.

You are allowed to drink, or to skip the alcohol, as you see fit.

You are allowed to not answer nosy or judgy questions.

You are allowed to set boundaries with your family and friends.

You are allowed to have big feelings, and to make space for those feelings.

You are allowed to leave early.

You are allowed to take care of your mental health.

You are allowed to honor your family in ways meaningful to you.

You are allowed to spend Thanksgiving by yourself.

You are allowed to go no-contact or low-contact with your family of origin.

You are allowed to let it be just another day.

You are allowed to feel things other than gratitude, alongside it or otherwise.

You are allowed to absolve yourself of the responsibility for educating or enlightening Uncle Bob or Aunt Karen.

You are allowed to not participate in family drama.

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twoheadedfather · 6 months

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whoever invented holidays where it's expected for family to gather in one place for like 6 hours for dinner hates abused children i'm so mad rn

#thanksgiving dinner /neg #i hate thanksgiving btw just as a concept #dinner ending with my mom and sister having a scream match while i mediated them. okay #childhood trauma #trauma #childhood abuse #toxic parents #toxic mom #toxic dad #FUCK THANKSGIVING

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dykeomania · 6 months

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it honestly makes me pretty emotional when i think about how comfortable i am with my sexuality because like as someone who grew up with a mom who has highly unproductive, southern baptist christian ideologies, the luxury of comfortably embracing my sexuality was never afforded to me growing up. even in high school, i was really sneaky about it. i’ve listened to my mom call my sister slurs, i’ve seen her threaten to kick her out many times, and i remember being like 11 and terrified of telling her that i lowkey was in fact looking up “girls kissing” on our half a core processor family desktop. and now it’s just like, when i zoom out of my life, im very blessed to look and see that i’m an independent, extremely gay woman who is able to comfortably kiss girls at parties, talk about lesbian relationships with my friends, plan on going to lesbian bars and gay bars and what may have you, all of it. i can’t even articulate the amount of times i hurt myself growing up trying to convince myself that i liked men, and i liked exposing myself to them and i liked how they made me feel — i felt disgusting, and tbh that really put a damper on how i understood myself, sexually. so on some sappy shit, like, i don’t think i ever truly became myself and got over a lot of that until i kissed another woman. to this day i don’t talk to my mom about my sexuality and really she doesn’t need to know who i’m fucking but she picks up on it and she still tells me that there’s time to repent. and you know what, there probably still is but i think 75+ years worth of pussy and soft touches and smelling a girl’s shampoo when her face is in the crook of my neck after a sexual experience that actually made sense, is worth whatever the hell comes after

#shrug #religious trauma is crazy but i’m chilling fr #mia what are you talking about #i’m thinking about this because i go home for thanksgiving and my mom has to face the realization that her daughter is getting gayer #and despite everything else that is such a massive disappointment to her #but honestly #she is definitely not my target audience to impress

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

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With his back straight, steps measured and calm, Draco walked up the walk toward his house. Everything was carefully tamped down, carefully tucked away where no one could see it or guess at it. He wore the perfect mask, a mask he'd honed over the years and had been able to employ since he was young, the perfect defense against his parents, his strongest shield.

He entered his house and stood there in the entryway for just a moment, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. His composure was still held tightly, knowing that the moment it cracked he wouldn't be able to withstand the torrents of his emotions. That much had been proven time and again.

So he slowly, methodically went through the motions of checking the post he'd missed in the two days he was away, hanging up his cloak, changing into comfortable clothes, and unpacking his suitcase. Then he went to the kitchen and started making supper, a stew that could simmer on the stove and a hearty grain bread. A meal that would warm him from the inside out.

As he was shaping the loaves the door opened and the wind blew Harry in. He grinned at Draco, curls riotous around his face and shoulders, bronze skin tinted rosy from the chill in the air. "Hey you," he said, like seeing Draco was the best part of his day.

"Hi," he choked out.

Harry's eyes were soft, full of compassion and tenderness as he looked at Draco. He took his jacket off and sent it to the closet, "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Draco shook his head, putting the bread into the oven to avoid having to meet the other man's eyes, not ready to let go of the control he'd held onto so tightly for two days.

"Can I hug you?" he asked.

After a heartbeat, Draco shook his head again. "No," he whispered. "Sorry," he added softly, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater and pulling them down over his hands.

"Why are you sorry?" Harry prompted softly, stepping into the kitchen and putting the kettle on.

He took a deep breath and let Harry start peeling back the layers, entered into the process of acknowledging his emotions. "You wanted to offer me comfort," he said. "I can't accept it right now but I don't want you to stop."

Harry hummed softly.

Draco continued, "And I am irrationally afraid that you will stop."

"I won't stop," Harry replied steadily. "It's not irrational for you to feel that way," he added, seamlessly acknowledging the trauma Draco had experienced and his willingness to meet him in his struggle. "I love you."

His heart twisted in his chest, leaving him aching and breathless at the easy way those words fell from the other man's lips. Like they cost him nothing to give them to Draco, like he expected nothing in return. "I can't," he whispered, eyes stinging.

"Can't what, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "shit, Harry." Tears slipped from his eyes and down his cheeks, "Sorry. I don't mean to be a mess. I don't mean to keep pushing you away. I don't-"

"Hey," he said, interrupting Draco's words and ducking his head so that he could look in Draco's eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, you're not pushing me away. Having boundaries and not being ready for something doesn't push me away. I don't mind sitting in the mess with you."

"You shouldn't have to," he blurted, frustrated by his inability to control his emotions, by his need to talk it out instead of just processing it himself or just acknowledging that his parents are arseholes and their opinions don't matter. "Fuck," he bit out, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I should just be able to move on. To not care about-"

"It's okay," Harry said softly, voice low and easy. "It's okay for that to be hard. It's okay for you to want to be loved and treated with gentleness." He stood as the kettle started to whistle and began making tea. "I am happy to listen to you and to help you process."

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around his waist. "I hate that you always get all of the worst bits of me," he whispered. Because if anyone deserved Draco's very best, it was Harry; his sweet, lovely Harry who loved him with more heart and tenderness than Draco had ever known was possible. Harry deserved all of Draco's goodness, all of the best bits ought to go to him, not all of the struggling, ragged, despairing bits.

"They aren't the worst bits," he said, handing a cup of peppermint tea to Draco before he settled back into his stool on the other side of the island with his own cup. "But even if they were, I'm glad to have them. I want all of the bits of you." He said it so earnestly, so painfully honestly, that Draco had no choice but to believe him.

It seemed like too much, like something that was completely undeserved and unwarranted. It seemed impossible that anyone could want all of the parts of him, could want to allow him space for all of the feelings and emotions he was hosting.

It seemed impossible that anyone could actually love him when the people who had made him and raised him only wanted him to be the cut out they'd designed for him. But as he looked at the other man's face, open and earnest as he waited for Draco to say more, the dam burst.

And Draco shattered.

Tears spilled from his eyes as his breath caught in his chest, pain radiating from the very core of his being through his chest and abdomen. "Harry," he whispered, reaching for him across the island.

Harry was around the island, letting Draco pull him close, in an instant. His arms wrapped around him and he held Draco up, "Hey. I see you," he whispered into Draco's hair. "You are good."

He let out a gasping sort of sob, "I'll never be enough for them," he said. "Never. It doesn't matter what I do, they'll never," he broke off as a sob forced its way out of his chest. "I try so hard," he whispered, "I can't-" he broke off again, not even sure what the end of that sentence was meant to be.

"I know," Harry replied, cradling him close with unbearable tenderness.

All of their words, their admonitions, their lectures, and guidance flooded through him, weakening all of the places in his life that he'd worked so hard to fortify after leaving home. The work that he'd done always felt like it came to nothing when he was with them, "I'm always too emotional, too lazy, too ugly, too stupid, too imperfect-"

"It's not true," the other man replied fiercely. "None of that is true, love."

"And I want to believe that," he said. He wanted to believe that more than anything. "Merlin, I want to believe that so much but I just-" he broke off, unsure of how to finish his thought.

"It's hard when that's not what they say," Harry finished for him when Draco lost the ending of his sentence. "I know," he murmured, holding Draco a little tighter still. "You are good, and kind, and clever, and fucking gorgeous. And you may be imperfect, but we all are."

He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly, then he did it again as Harry slowly stroked his hand up and down his back soothingly. He wanted to apologize but he knew that Harry would just make him explain why and then tell him that he didn't want or need that. He wanted to tell him he'd do better, be better but knew that Harry would just tell him that he wanted him as he was. That he loved him. And he didn't want to make Harry feel like he had to say all of those lovely, kind things when Draco was so ugly and broken. He didn't want to be more of a burden than he already was.

"I wish you'd let me come with you," Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

Draco huffed a laugh, "They'd tear you apart," he said. "I'd never ask that of you."

"I'd like to see them try," he said. "I just don't like that you're so alone," he continued. "I don't like that there's no one to stand up for you or at the very least tell you how spectacular you are in the quiet moments in between."

He sniffled a little and let himself imagine what it would be like not to be alone when he went to his parents'. "Thanks," he murmured. "I don't know if I'm ready to tell them about us yet," he added a little nervously, he loved Harry beyond measure and he didn't want the other man to think his hesitancy was a reflection on him.

"I'm not trying to rush you," Harry assured, "I just hate what happens to you every time you see them."

He closed his eyes and relaxed against Harry, letting the torrent of emotions batter his rib cage while Harry held him up. "I love you," he whispered.

Harry hummed and kissed the top of his head again, "I love you too. So much."

They stood together in the kitchen, Harry's arms around him, for a long time until Draco's stomach started growling and the timer for the bread in the oven went off. Dinner was quiet, but a part of Harry's body was always touching Draco; his foot against his shin, fingers tangling together, an ankle wrapped around Draco's: a constant reminder of his love and support.

And the rest of the night was similar, quiet and calm interspersed with Draco's stories of what had happened, lines and phrases that had been said to him, the re-telling cathartic even as it made him cry. Harry listened with rapt attention, focused on what Draco had to say, offering kindness and love, gently telling him what was actually true and washing away the lies.

They climbed into bed at the end of the day and Harry pulled Draco close, wrapping around his body and cradling Draco against his chest. And Draco let out a sigh, pulling Harry's arm just a little further around him and bringing his hand up to his lips, "Thank you," he murmured.

"My pleasure," Harry murmured into the back of his neck, "truly delighted to get to be with you and love you."

"It's a lot," he whispered.

"It's really not."

He huffed, "it feels like it is," he said as a tear slipped down his cheek.

"That's fair," Harry said softly, "but you don't feel like a lot to me. This doesn't feel like a lot. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

Draco closed his eyes and let out a slow breath and tried to let himself believe those words. Loving Harry was the easiest thing he'd ever done, so maybe, just maybe, he could believe that was true for Harry too.

#part of the author's unofficial trauma response collection (laughing and crying simultaneously but mostly crying)#was anyone else's thanksgiving complete shit?#drarry #dealing with ongoing emotional trauma #love #soft #harry is a good boyfriend #fluff

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